#now the white album cd next..... gulp

[ribcagebonemeal]

MMT AND BEATLES FOR SALE CDS ARRIVED TODAY!!! had a very awesome listening party for both albums, and as always, my opinions on the songs changed greatly. i basically like every song on beatles for sale AND mmt atp. ohhhh beatles for sale is a huge fav along with sgt. pepper rn, don't know if that's a hot take or not.

my faves are flying and every little thing and i'll follow the sun and your mother should know and blue jay way and honey dont and i dont want to spoil the party and and

[ambroziadelphine]

Emo Boy (Choso Kamo x Reader) Chapter 1

Masterlink

It was only a few days later before I saw Choso again, though I was in the studio booth making some sound demonstration recordings for some new Guitars we just got in. A new acoustic in a dark oak and a few electric guitars all in different colors as I played the sample pieces for each type. I had headphones on with my eyes closed, having memorized these same notes long ago when I started here, when a knock on the window startled me. I looked over to see Angie waving me out, Choso standing by her nervously as he seemed to glance around. I smiled and set the guitar down as I walked out, almost hesitating as I opened the door to be hit with a warm and comforting sense, grinning at the brunette.

"So, you came back." I said, his cheeks turning pink as he nodded.

"I uh, was wondering if you had any more band recommendations? Maybe that Sleeping With Sirens one?" He asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. I noticed he was in vastly different clothes, from the baggy white pants and sleeves with the long purple vest thingy to simple black jeans and a grey T-shirt with a baggy hoodie on. 

"I work in a music store, of course I'll have recommendations." I said making him chuckle before I lead him over to where all the alternative and indie punk rock was, grabbing one of the sleeping with sirens albums plus 2 more I think he'd like. System of the Down and Linkin Park, classic's, so if he hasn't heard of them, I'll show him their glory. "Madness or Let's Cheers To This are my favorite albums from Sleeping With Sirens. Then System of the Down and Linkin Park are classics in rock music, so I'd definitely say they're worth listening to. Toxicity is great, but I prefer Steal This Album; I think all Linkin Park is good so just start with Hybrid Theory since it has some of the more mainstream songs in it." I said as he looked at the albums, turning them over to read the songs listed.

"If you want, I can let you listen to them in the Studio booth to see which ones you want." I said, his eyes snapping up to mine with a caught off guard look making me chuckle. "It's not almost close like last time you were here, feel free to hang around as long as you want." I said as he gulped and nodded.

"Where.. where is the Studio room?" He asked and I chuckled, leading him to the room I was in only moments ago, flipping through the discs we had for this specific purpose of playing in here. We couldn't just open a brand new disc when we have so many others for our radio shack all ready to use. "It's a lot quieter in here." He commented making me look back at him and chuckle.

"Soundproof walls and glass. The owner, Roxy likes playing live music for the radio or over the speakers sometimes. It's also where we record all sound samples for the instruments, though we only have guitars and bass's as of now." I said as he came up behind me, I gestured to the couch and chair against the wall. "You can sit down if you want. It's soundproof in here so we won't be disturbing anyone in the store." I told him as I held out the CD's to him.

"What do you want to start with first?" I asked him and he kind of shrugged.

"Sleeping with Sirens? I actually really liked King For A Day.." He said, trailing off as he looked away making me snicker in amusement.

"It's one of their most popular songs, anyone who knows the band even a little knows that song." I said as I put the disk in to play the music, Kick Me starting to play and I couldn't help the grin from stretching out across my face.

And that's basically how I spent the next 2 hours, just listening to music with Choso as we briefly talked. I learned he was the oldest of 9 which had my eyes popping out of my skull almost, only having my little sister that I took care of at home; he was pretty reserved when I'd ask him a question, his answers vague but I didn't mind. I told him about Olivia, my sister and how I played Guitar and Violin, he asked to hear me play and I couldn't say no after seeing the way he smiled, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world that I could play an instrument. God, he was too cute. It was almost too soon when there was a knock on the window and Angie was stood there again with the two men from earlier, the grey haired one giving a large grin as he waved making me chuckle.

"You're friends?" I asked him as I got up.

"Uh.. actually, he's.. my father.." He said making me look at him in surprise.

"What fucking age did he have you? Oldest of Ten? Jesus, your poor mother." I chuckled, shaking my head as he gave me a slight grimace.

"He's.. a lot, older then he looks." He said and I raised an eyebrow at the way his tone portrayed the sentence before I opened the door.

"He said he was here to get you're new friend." Angie said, wiggling her eyebrows subtly before she walked off.

"Hello, I don't believe we properly met last time I was here." Choso's father said, holding out a hand which I took, smiling slightly before turning to surprise as he kissed the back of my hand. "I'm Geto Suguru." He said as I pulled my hand back, subtly wiping it on my jeans as I looked at him, an outline of a deep violet stringing out from him as I internally sighed. He's either lying or has ill intent. Hard to figure out which one right now though.

"I'm Zoey Uma, its nice to meet you." I said turning to the grey haired man. "And you are?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as he chuckled, he practically screamed ill intent but it was only polite to greet him as well.

"I'm Mahito." He said and I nodded.

"Well, Choso, are you ready to leave?" Geto asked, I felt him stiffen as he stood behind me and I couldn't help but glance at him in slight concern as Choso just nodded, his expression stoic and bored now.

"Just let me get these and we can go." He said, his voice cold towards the man he called his father to me only moments ago. He turned to me and I smiled, leading him to the counter and scanning the items, giving him my staff discount for 50% off since I couldn't give him another freebie. It was only me and my sister, so of course I needed to use it on someone eventually. He looked at the total then furrowed his brows, looking at the prices on the CD's then back up at me. "I think you're scanner is wrong." He said making me chuckle, shaking my head.

"Nope. I did however give you a discount since you've been such good company to me today." I said, his face turning flush as he looked at me in surprise.

"O-oh, uh, thank you." He said, paying for the items before I grabbed his receipt, writing something on the back before handing it to him.

"Text me sometime." I told him, his face flushing darker as he looked at the paper that now had my phone number on it. "Hanging out with you here is great and all, but my manager will not be happy if I slack off because of a guy coming around all the time." I chuckled, his hand scratching his neck as he looked at me sheepishly.

"Got it." He said as he looked down for a moment when he looked behind him to his father and Mahito, the former giving a look I didn't quite catch when he turned back around. "I guess I'll see you later." He said, giving me a small smile as I nodded.

"I look forward to it." I said, giving him a small wink before he left with the other two, Ange coming over with a knowing grin on her face.

"So.. who's the two tall dark and mysterious men that've come to visit you?" She asked and I rolled my eyes, sighing at her words, not noticing her lack of mention of Mahito.

"Well, the first one is Choso. He came in a few nights ago before close with those two. The other is apparently, get this, his father." I said, her eyes widening as she stared at the door the men had walked out of.

"Damn girl, save some of the hot men for the rest of us." She teased as I nudged her.

"Hey, I've only got my eyes on Choso. His father is all yours." I said before smirking. "Be warned, apparently Choso is the oldest of 9." I said, her eyes bugging out like mine did.

"9?!" She exclaimed, a few costumers turning to look at us making a sheepish look come over her face. "9?" She repeated, quieter this time as she leaned closer.

"Oh, you're breeding kink is so fucked." She said, her voice low as I gapped at her and smacked her arm.

"Angie! I just met the guy!" I said as she rolled her eyes.

"So, you're saying you wouldn't sleep with him if he asked?" She questioned, a raised eyebrow as I blushed and looked away. "I knew it." She said and I couldn't help but huff at her.

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

The next few weeks were pretty much the same, though we were texting now. He said he and his family got busy so he wasn't able to meet up with me outside of my working hours, but he did make an effort to stop by at least every few days, even if just for a quick chat. I will say, I was beginning to grow very smitten with him, his dark eyes and calm but awkward personality endearing to me. Not to mention he was very very cute. I always looked forward to his texts or seeing him again when I'd go to work, and it seemed today, he had finally gotten some free time, texting to ask when my shift ended and telling me he'd meet me outside. I was just finishing closing up, locking the front door when I felt a hand on my shoulder making me jump, yelping slightly before I put a hand on my heart, turning to see Choso there with a smile on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He said, the familiar words making me chuckle as I sighed.

"It's alright, I just wasn't expecting you to be right behind me." I said as I looked up at him and smiled. He seemed nervous as he shifted on his feet and I couldn't help but put an hand on his arm. "You okay, Choso?" I asked him in concern, his eyes finding mine as he gave a small smile.

"Yea, I'm okay." He said, but I didn't believe him, not when his aura turned dark and straggly from lying.

"Alright, I'll believe you for now." I said, staring at him for a moment before smiling at him again. "So, what did you want to do? I've got no plans or people to deal with, so I'm all yours." I said, my tone teasing as my words made his face flush.

"I, uh.. I'm not sure." He said and I chuckled, taking his hand.

"Then I guess, we could go back to my place if you want. I have my motorcycle here and I've always got a spare helmet incase Angie or Jessie needed a ride home." I said, leading him to were the motorbike stood.

"I've.. never rode on one of those." He said and I look at him with a grin.

"Good thing I'll be driving then."

[vannahfanfics]

Stereo Hearts

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro

Hello, everyone! It is my pleasure to present my story for the @kmjr-mini-bang! A super big thanks to my partner @chiztec​ who drew an absolutely stunning piece to accompany my story, as well as Amii and nish, who were kind enough to beta my story. I hope you all enjoy the finished product! 

Denki sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He laid on his bed, thumbs twiddling as his hands were clasped over his stomach. His worried gaze could have bored holes into the ceiling if he had the right Quirk. He felt a little silly, fretting so relentlessly over something as simple as a high school graduation. For most students, it was a time of excitement, a chapter of transition in their lives as they went bungling on into adulthood. Denki was eagerly looking forward to getting out there and showing the world what Chargebolt could do. Adulthood wasn’t exactly what he was worried about. 

He hadn’t told Kyoka that he loved her yet. 

“Jeez, that sounds right out of some corny chick flick,” he groaned and rubbed his palms over his eyes. He grimaced as nervous sweat smeared across his face. He flopped his arms back down against the bed with another forlorn exhale, eyes lidded as he envisioned the beautiful, talented girl he’d fallen head-over-heels for their first year. Everything had seemed to get in the way of professing his feelings for her, and also, he felt a little… unworthy. He was a great big massive dork, not nearly cool enough to even be seen with someone as pretty and sophisticated as Kyoka. 

He’d probably short-circuit and go into “yay” mode when tried to confess to her. 

Groaning, he rolled onto his side to grab his phone off the charger. It wasn’t like he was sleeping anyway. As he unlocked it, his thumb came to rest over the screen, and his golden eyes stared at the time burning in white numbers in the center of the display. The time was inching closer to midnight. Soon, it would officially be the day of his graduation. The realization sent a sinking feeling spiraling into the pit of his stomach. 

He was running out of time. Everyone made well-intentioned promises to keep in touch after high school, but everyone knew that almost never panned out. You went on, to college or to a career, you got insanely busy, and next thing you know you haven’t talked to anyone you know in years and made new friendships. Denki swallowed thickly, mindlessly bringing up his favorite picture of Kyoka in his gallery. She was smiling brightly, so hard her eyes were scrunched up into little half-moons. She’d made that face for Denki when he’d surprised her for her birthday with an expensive album she’d been eyeing since its release. When she’d smiled at him like that, he’d almost electrocuted everyone in the room because he’d been so damn in love. 

He was still so damn in love. 

He pulled up Kyoka’s contact information. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Would she even be awake right now? He wondered with a tiny sigh. Probably not. It was the middle of the night. Still, he found himself texting out a message.

Hey, are you awake? 

He rolled back over and set the phone down on his chest to stare up at the ceiling again. He fully expected his message to go unanswered, so he began losing himself in the confusing stream of “what ifs” and regretting every moment he never chose to tell Kyoka how he felt. He was so lost in thought that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the message alert rang through his quiet bedroom. He fumbled with his sweaty hands to pull up Kyoka’s response. 

Yeah, I’m awake. What’s up? 

A sappy smile bloomed on his lips, and he rolled over, snuggling into his mattress while typing out his reply. 

Just thinking. What about you? 

Three dots popped up on the message screen, quickly followed by a simple, Same. 

Denki ruminated on his thoughts for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He didn’t even really know what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to do. He wasn’t enough of an ass to confess to Kyoka over text, no… It had to be more special than that, something that she was deserving of. 

A cheesy grin slowly appeared on his face as he recounted a conversation he’d overheard—  Kyoka talking to Mina about her favorite romance movie tropes. Believe it or not, Kyoka secretly adored them and often requested them for the girls’ movie nights. He’d always stored that information in the back of his mind, just in case it would ever become useful… 

Yeah… he thought deviously. He threw off his covers and scrambled over to his closet to throw on something halfway-decent. He couldn’t profess his undying love in a pair of All Might pajama pants, after all. He inspected himself in the mirror after wiggling into a pair of skinny jeans and a band tee-shirt that Kyoka had bought for his last birthday. He licked the palm of his hand to slick down the flyaways in his blond hair, turned his face left and right, and then gave his reflection finger-guns. 

“You got this. You’re a stud. Ladies love ya!” He grinned encouragingly. He held the expression until his face hurt, trying to will the confidence into existence. Then, he flopped his arms and hung his head in defeat. “She’s probably gonna laugh,” he snorted. “But,” he added, peeking through his bangs at the mirror. “I still gotta try!” 

Before his courage could fail him, Denki snatched up the vintage stereo sitting on his desk— another birthday present from Kyoka— and scurried out of the room, hopping on one foot down the hall trying to slip on his Converse. He slowly tip-toed past Tenya’s dorm clutching his stereo to his chest; their class representative had a nose for trouble, especially Denki’s shenanigans, and had caught the blond many a night trying to sneak away and get up to no good. It seemed that luck was on Denki’s side this evening, as he made it to the stairwell without inciting a peep for the tall bespectacled boy’s room. He breathed a sigh of relief and gathered himself for a moment before proceeding downstairs. 

He treaded carefully, having long since memorized the creaky spots in the wood in his many misadventures. The tip of his tongue peeked out of his lips as he used the sparse moonlight to guide his steps down to the first floor. It was slow going, but the even best-laid plans were ruined by haste. He could feel his cell phone vibrating in his back pocket, probably Kyoka wondering why he suddenly stopped texting her. 

All in due time, my dear Kyoka! <3

When Denki reached the first-floor landing, he cautiously peered out into the gloom. It wouldn’t be the first time he surprised another student who had fallen asleep in the lounge, or worse, Mr. Aizawa, who had relocated to the common room to stay up late grading assignments. Thankfully, Lady Luck was generous and granted him passage through his second trial; the lounge was empty. 

Denki stole away through the darkness, like a thief in the night, to the back door. He grimaced as it creaked loudly and looked over his shoulder. After an agonizing half-minute of silence, no one emerged from the dark to scold him, so he elected that the coast was clear. He slipped outside, and the warm wind immediately enveloped him, clouding him with a cologne of night-blooming flowers and dew. He stared out into the side alley, the concrete path that led him to the space just beneath Kyoka’s balcony— and began to doubt. 

I’m really going out on a limb here, he gulped and clutched the stereo to his chest until the metal creaked. His absolute worst nightmare wasn’t Kyoka rejecting him… but laughing at him. He tried to tell himself that Kyoka would never do something so callous, but he worried all the same. It was such a frightening thing, putting yourself out there. The mind tried to worm its way out of it whenever possible. 

But it’s now or never! Even if she laughs at me… If I don’t do this now, I’ll regret not doing it for the rest of my life! 

Denki was going to go out on this limb, even if it broke underneath him and he plummeted headlong into bitter heartbreak. He could always put himself back together again. Resolute, he tromped down the small alleyway to the rows of balconies jutting out from the dorm. 

He counted under his breath until he found Kyoka’s sliding glass doors and fluttering curtains. He set the stereo down by his feet and finally pulled out his phone to discover a series of confused messages from Kyoka. 

Hello? You text me first, and then don’t answer me? What’s up with that? 

He smiled, sensing that playful bite in her tone that he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with. 

Come out onto your balcony, he answered. Before he could stow his cellphone, it buzzed with a quick reply. 

What? Why? 

Just do it! He insisted in mild panic. He’d failed to consider that Kyoka would just tell him to shove off and go to bed. As nervous sweat condensed on his forehead, he heard the faint click of the door. He jerked in shock, inadvertently dropping his phone face-down on the concrete. He cringed, already imagining the crack spiderwebbing across the glass screen.

“Denki?” he heard Kyoka call suspiciously as he ducked down to hit the power button on the stereo. It automatically started up a CD of Kyoka’s favorite songs that he’d burned on the off-chance that he would need it. Just as she came to the edge of the balcony, he straightened up and swept his hand through his hair, smiling bashfully. Her eyes widened, refracting the moonlight as her ears drank in the pretty tune streaming from the stereo’s large speakers. “Denki?” she repeated perplexedly. “What are you doing?” 

He nudged down the volume with his toe while a blush rose to his cheeks. 

“Look, I know this is corny as hell, and you probably don’t appreciate being called out at three in the morning, but I’m kinda desperate here,” he admitted, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck and chuckling. “You know how I told you I was thinking? I was thinking about you. How your smile lights up my whole life, and when you sing it sounds like an angel walking this Earth, and how damn lucky I feel to have shared these last three years with you. How cute you are when you laugh, and gush about romance movies when you think nobody notices, and how badass you are that it leaves me breathless.” 

As he rambled on and on about everything he absolutely adored about her, Kyoka’s face glowed like a pink opal in the moonlight and her wide eyes glimmered like gems. By this time, the noise had attracted the other girls from their dorm rooms, and they sleepily peered out at Denki pouring out his heart and soul to their startled classmate. His cheeks darkened with embarrassment, but he’d already said so much; there was no going back now. 

“I was thinking about how stupidly in love I am with you, and how if I don’t tell you now that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. So I love you, Kyoka, and I’d be really stoked if you’d go out with me.” 

A ripple of gasps rang out from the girls’ mouths, and they all looked expectantly at Kyoka. The girl gulped audibly and pawed at her dark hair, which was sticking up in odd places and tousled with sleep. Her earjacks nervously writhed above her shoulders and her eyes cast down as she considered Denki’s confession. All the while, he stood there holding his breath, waiting and listening to the love song serenade the silence. 

He was beginning to feel a bit faint and like he was going to start sparking when her eyes finally flickered up to meet his own. 

“I’d be really stoked to go out with you, too.” 

The girls erupted into cheers and squeals, jumping up and down while clapping their hands. Kyoka blushed under their ecstatic congratulations. Their whoops and hollers attracted the boys from across their halls, meandering out onto the girls’ balconies to investigate what all the fuss was about. Denki shrunk under all the attention, twiddling his fingers and turning as red as a tomato. 

“Aw, congratulations, you two!” Izuku called with a big smile. 

“It’s about damn time,” Katsuki grumped from beside Eijirou and Ochako. “I was getting sick and damn tired about him mooning over her like a lovesick sap.” 

“Hey, bro! Don’t you have a nicer way to say congrats?” the redhead scolded, making Katsuki snarl. 

“Denki Kaminari!” came the expected chastising. Denki flinched and grinned apologetically at Tenya, who was gestating emphatically on Tooru’s balcony with his nightcap flapping. “What is the meaning of this? I understand the romanticism, but it is the eve of our graduation ceremony! It is imperative that we be rested to do justice to our prestigious institution, not straggle in like zombies! Have you no sense of decorum?” 

“Oh, can it, class rep,” Mina chided. Tenya leaned down over the balcony railing with an affronted gasp. The pink girl’s smile was wide as she winked at Denki. “So, stud. Are you gonna just stand there, or are you gonna come give your new girlfriend a kiss?” 

“Mina!” Kyoka hissed, turning her head so hard and fast that Denki swore he heard her bones snap. Denki jumped, stuttering nonsensities, and dipped down to retrieve his stereo. It was still blaring as he sprinted back into the dorm and up the stairs. Kyoka was standing in her doorway as he came barreling up the steps, tripping over the laces of his Converse and nearly plowing headfirst into the wall. The rest of the students watched with bated breath, crowding in the other doorways and on the steps behind him. 

“Hey, Kyoka,” Denki swallowed, holding the stereo to his chest as he timidly approached her. His breaths came in ragged gasps from his rapid staircase sprint, and a sheen of sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. He doubted that he looked the picture of handsome— but Kyoka still smiled coyly as he approached, tucking her hair behind her ears and staring at him like he was her knight in shining armor. His golden eyes never left hers as he set the stereo on the floor and rubbed his palms on the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Hey, Denki,” she smiled shyly. His heart fluttered just at the sweet sound of her voice, and he swore he fell in love all over again in that moment. His body moved instinctively as his mind was ensnared by her unconscious charm, stepping close to her and using his index finger to slowly tip up her chin. He sucked in a breath, enchanted by her shy little gaze and slightly parted lips. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

“Just kiss her already, you asshole, I’m tired!” Katsuki yelled from down the hall, making both of them jump. He heard Eijirou scold him under his breath and elbow him in the ribs, making Katsuki unleash a string of unflattering curses. After the fiery blond’s grumbles had died down, Denki smiled bashfully at the pink-cheeked Kyoka. She fluttered her eyelashes demurely, then flickered her gaze down to his lips. 

Well, if he was waiting for an invitation, that damn sure was it. 

Without further ado, Denki leaned in to gently capture her in a sweet kiss. His heart sung as she hummed slightly, making his hair stand on end. He almost wondered if he’d strayed into a dream, that his fantastical whimsies had come to fruition only in his subconscious. However, when he pulled back and opened his eyes, he knew he was awake. He could never dream the way she looked at him then, with such utter adoration that it made his heart ache. 

“All right. Show’s over,” Katsuki grumbled, skulking off toward his room. Denki rolled his eyes but leaned down to finally switch off the stereo. When he straightened back up, their classmates had retreated into their rooms— leaving them alone. Kyoka shyly swung from side-to-side, hugging herself with a sheepish grin. 

“That was pretty smooth,” she admitted. 

“Really?” he asked excitedly. Her cheeks darkened a shade of pink, and then she nodded. Denki suppressed the wild urge to embarrass himself with a happy jig. Kyoka would probably find it charming, but he wanted to hang on to some sense of decorum, as Tenya had put it. After several minutes of staring adoringly at one another, Denki finally drawled dreamily, “Well… We should probably get back to bed… Tenya’ll be mad if we’re tired at the ceremony tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” she said, sounding just as enthused about ending the moment as he was. Neither of them moved for several seconds. “You should go, Denki,” she reminded him, finally prompting his sluggish body to move. He scooped up his stereo, never breaking eye contact, before rising to clutch it to his chest. “I’ll see you later,” she reassured him with a light laugh, before retreating into her room. She didn’t close the door, just gazed at him like he’d hung the moon in the sky— and he would, for her. 

“Yeah,” he said as he began backing away towards the end of the hall. When she finally shut the door, he risked his happy dance, jitterbugging back to his room. Just as he flopped onto his bed, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out with furrowed brows, and then broke into a stupid smile. 

I’m looking forward to our date. 

His thumbs flew across the screen to type up a reply as he rolled on his side and snuggled into bed. 

Me too. Goodnight, Kyoka. 

She must have drifted off, because there was no reply. That was all right. After a minute of goofily admiring her contact picture, he finally put his phone on the charger and settled into bed. Sleep took him easily this time, gifting him dreams of what was to come.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[mesmeret]

KPW 2.0 Day 2: Cat Daddy Hux and Juggalo Kylo

Day 2: Opposites Attract! "Boring" Cat Daddy Hux has a crush on his Juggalo neighbor Kylo. Kylo also has a crush on him. Cussing and lemons

Hux’s heart flipped hearing the loud engine of his crush coming up the block. He had no shame being picked up by his neighbor in front of his office building. Strangers and coworkers turn towards the blasting “Funyuns and Condoms”. The brakes screech and the passenger door unlocks. Hux bites his lip so his grin masks as a smirk while he gets into the decade old white Ford F-150 with peeling black and red flame decals.

He buckles in before looking over at Kylo, “Hey.”

“How’s the overlords?” Kylo is glaring at traffic with a pale white base with black lightning bolts painted all over his face. Hux’s stomach flips at how a few go down Kylo’s neck and get muddled with his neck tattoos. Kylo’s lips are bright red with black lip liner.

Hux knows to talk over Kylo’s cussing and singing along with his CDs, “Fucking awful. Brooks stole my work again. The cronies didn’t bat an eye seeing my watermarks. Thanks for that idea, by the way. Fuck, I am quitting next week. Not giving them any opportunity to fire me.”

“Fuck yeah!” Kylo honked his horn and grinned as the cars around them honked back. “They don’t deserve you!”

Hux felt his face heat up. This was one of the reasons he fell hard for Kylo. The man made him feel valuable.

“So what’s next for m-Mister Hot Shot?” Kylo stuttered as they pulled onto the highway.

“I don’t know. Maybe take a week off before looking for jobs?” Hux shrugged.

“Yeah? Cool,” Kylo gets into the fast lane and looks over at Hux. His voice low, “Gonna let your hair down and go wild?”

Hux managed not to gasp, instead he made a choked off nervous laugh, “Me? I was thinking of checking out the summer art exhibits before they go away.”

Kylo pounds his steering wheel, “Dude! You’re killing me! You can do that any time!”

“No, the exhibits are leaving at the end of July,” Hux feigns sulking to get more of a rise out of Kylo.

“M-Sorry, you fucker!” Kylo caught himself from saying Hux’s second least favorite curse word. “I’m worried about you. Those soul suckers have got you whipped. You should, like, I dunno… spend time with me and the guys that week!”

Hux’s toes would curl in his italian loafers if the narrow shoes would let them. He sighed, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right!” Kylo puffed up his chest and belted out the lyrics for the next song on the Bang! Pow! Boom! Album. Hux at least remembered the album name. Kylo also surprised him last week remembering the company names of Hux’s favorite porcelain cat figurines. He stared out at the passing traffic. Maybe he could do something to get Kylo to call him Cat Daddy again? Millie hated the ribbons but if he could bribe her…

A few minutes of traffic later, they pull off the highway and quickly get into their neighborhood. Kylo looks over at him a couple of times before speaking, “Hey, would you like to rehearse your resignation?”

Hux sat up in his seat, “Huh? Yeah, that would help. When did you have in mind?”

Kylo stuttered, “I-uh, got some things to do but I can swing by in, uh, an hour?”

Hux nodded, “Sure. I’ll get Millie settled in with her din-din.”

“Cool!” Kylo yelled and went silent with wide eyes. Hux frowned a little but got distracted with Kylo’s arm bracing the back of his seat as Kylo pulled the truck into reverse to parallel park. Hux knew the tattoos were crude and chunky. But their canvas gave them far more allure. Hux didn’t have time to give into the temptation of nuzzling Kylo’s biceps because the man was an impressive parker.

They parted ways and Kylo stomped up to his apartment in his oversized jeans and baggy t-shirt. The clothes made him look absurdly giant. Hux loved it. Once he got into his apartment, he went straight to the kitchen to prepare Millicent’s meal as she mrrp’d her way around his feet. He hummed along with her as he mashed up some wet food with her kibble. He set the bowl down and gave Millicent her privacy as he headed into his bedroom. He took off  his dress shirt and slacks. He stared at his closet drawing a blank. What would Kylo like him in? Kylo hardly comments on his clothes. Hux sighed grabbing a white t-shirt and gray lounge pants. Why was he so boring? He flushed at the thought of getting Kylo to give him a makeover. He’d look absolutely ridiculous but Kylo would have his hands all over him.

Hux went into the living room and tidied up the little messes from the past few days. Millicent watched him from her cat tree with her tail swaying to and fro. He came over to kiss the top of her head. She scrunched her eyes and shook her head. He snorted, “I know, so embarrassing. But you’re so cute!”

She squinted at him as he scritched behind her ear. Long orange hairs started to shed. He looked at his watch and decided he could start brushing her coat before Kylo came over. He scooped up Millicent and she gave a chirp seeing him grab the brush kit. He was blessed having a cat who enjoyed grooming. He got most of her back done when there was a knock on the door. Millicent darted to the cat tree as Hux dumped the cat hair in the kitchen trash. He answered the door and was startled to see an unsettling version of Kylo.

Kylo looked normal. He was without his makeup in a black polo and khakis. His hair was tied in a bun. Hux felt sad seeing Kylo’s septum piercing flipped up and hidden. Kylo’s skin was splotchy and textured due to his Kryolan paint stick routine. Hux felt oddly reassured that Kylo wasn’t too perfect. Hux has seen him shirtless with his face painted up and spent many a night stroking to the visuals.

“I-um, thought we could role play?” Kylo shrugged.

Hux blushed realizing he had just stood there staring, “Oh! Wow, you really didn’t need to change. I liked the lightning today. A lot.”

Kylo muttered under his breath, “Fucking dumbass.”

Hux froze, “Excuse me?”

Kylo looked more shocked than Hux felt, “Me! I meant me! I’m the fucking dumbass!”

Hux shook his head, “No you aren’t, come on in.”

Kylo frowned but followed Hux to the couch. Hux’s heart fluttered as Kylo sat next to him, “What’s going on, Kylo?”

Kylo looked at him with a shy glance before looking ahead, “I thought you’d like me more like this? I thought if we roleplayed you quitting your job, we’d-” Kylo takes a deep sigh, “I thought we’d then like makeout or something ‘cuz the past couple of months have been crazy, y’know?”

Hux gulped and tentatively placed his hand over Kylo’s white knuckled fist, “I think you’re hot. But as you usually dress and stuff. This is very different but I see my Kylo. Though...”

Kylo goes cross eyed as Hux flips his septum piercing and bursts into deep laughter, “What the fuck! You’re freaky, Hux!”

Hux blushed, “I guess? Do you like it?”

Kylo’s voice cracked before going bone deep, “Uh, yeah. It’s really fucking hot… babe.”

Hux whined as his body went numb with arousal, “Could we… do something else than role play quitting my job?”

Kylo moaned, “Like what?”

Hux got up to straddle Kylo’s lap. Kylo’s eyes widened and his hands hovered before gripping Hux’s hips. Hux whispers while tugging on Kylo’s polo shirt, “Wanna see your chest again.”

Kylo gave a little nod and pulled off the polo. Hux moaned at the sight of the loosened bun, defined muscles, and garish tattoos. His fingers traced thick lines that trembled. Kylo whined and bucked up. Hux gasped as he slid further into Kylo’s lap and had to brace himself against Kylo’s chest. Kylo grunted, “Permission to kiss?”

Hux gave a nod before kissing Kylo. He sighed at how nice Kylo’s lip and tongue piercings felt. He gave a tentative roll of his hips and Kylo seized with a yelp. Hux hummed in delight feeling the pulse of Kylo’s dick against his. Kylo pulled away from the kiss with a dazed look, “Fuck, I didn’t bring condoms.”

Hux bit his lip, “I’m good with not rushing things. I really do like you. And, ah, would like to fuck when you’re all done up.”

Hux now knows that when Kylo’s eyes widen slightly, his cheeks go bright red. This revelation makes Hux kiss Kylo deeply. Kylo gives a confused sound but goes with the kiss. Hux pulls away when he finally needs air. After catching his breath, he whispers, “I can’t believe you like me.”

Kylo scoffs, “I can’t believe you like me. You of all people.”

Hux whines, “Hush, of course I like you. You’re like my best friend and crush.”

Kylo whimpers squeezing Hux’s ass, “I’m your what?”

“My crush-Ah!” Hux arches his back as Kylo rips his lounge pants. Hux shivers as fingers press through the tear to bare skin. “Nngh! Fuck, tear them more.”

Kylo does so looking up at Hux with a growl. Hux grunts as his cock drops down from the torn confines onto Kylo’s palm. It’s an awkward hand job but feels great. Hux’s mind whites out as Kylo leans up to suck on his neck. The other hand reaches over to press two fingers against Hux’s ass. Hux screeches as the fingers rub frantically with the fist around his cock. He goes limp as his cock twitches.

Kylo mouths his neck lightly before flipping them over. Hux whines as Kylo pulls away to take off his cum stained khakis. Kylo also didn’t bother with underwear and strokes himself while looking down at Hux. Hux studies Kylo’s cock and is a little bummed there’s no piercings visible. Kylo straddles him and moans as his cock head bumps against Hux’s small paunch. Hux blushes deeply once he realizes Kylo is writing his name on Hux’s belly. Hux whispers, “I’d get it tattooed there. Or a tramp stamp.”

Kylo’s eyes bulge and his breathing goes haggard, “Fuck, really?”

Hux bit his lip nodding. Kylo grunted as he came all over Hux’s belly. Hux kissed him softly, “Seriously. Maybe you could help me with the aftercare?”

Kylo snorted and shook his head, “Nah, that’s like ten year anniversary shit.”

“Oh, I guess you’ll just have to cum your name on me until then,” Hux feigned disappointment. “Maybe get me a collar or belt?”

Kylo chuckled, “Fucking freak.”  

Hux smirked, “You have no idea.”

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Only For A Moment Ch. 34

Only For A Moment Master List

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?

Warnings: Feels, fluff, cute shit.

A/N: Muh babies. Muh reader (who I call Jude for anyone that cares). Just... I really want them to be happy. Y’all gotta know that. Like I have fucking FEELINGS for these characters. It sucks lol. 

Just a heads up. Y’all may be getting a real beefy chapter 34 next week. I know most of these have been pretty short thus far (clocking in under 2k words) but I’m having a hard time finding the right place to cut it. SO let me know: Do you like that these chapters are shorter? Do you want beefier chapters? I wanna know! 

Love y’all!!!

Tags are open!

The feeling of his lips on your palm sends shivers up your spine. You want those lips, that mouth… everywhere. But it’s far from time for that.

No matter how much you think you can’t pinpoint what may have set him off. Maybe something out on the job today? Too many people?

“Buck…” You can’t seem to form the words, not wanting to pry but your concern sits heavy in your chest.

He smiles, you’re surprised to see it reach his eyes, “The pie,” your brows knit in confusion. “I… my Ma used to make apple pie all the time… the smell just… caught me off guard is all. Lot’s of memories.” Gently he strokes your face with his right fingers, “Good memories.”

You can’t help but smile even though your heart is breaking for him, “Do… do you want some? Made fresh coffee too.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” he looks down at his dirty clothes. “Let me change first.” Lowering yourself to the floor you move out of his way.

When the bathroom door closes you stare at it for a second worry eating at you. Even good memories could hurt… especially when they were linked to loss. You knew that all too well. It kills you a little that it hit him so hard.

This just solidifies a thought you had earlier in the day. He needs a phone if he doesn’t have one. If he had one you could have told him you were making a pie. It would have been passing to you but he could have mentally prepared maybe. Not to mention the less innocuous reasons to have a way to contact one another.

You’re moving the tall stack of CDs and the laptop from the table when he comes out. The white tee strains over his chest as his muscles subtly move under the fabric while he dries his hands on a small towel. Its hem skims the top of the loose jeans slung low on his hips. You swallow hard and turn back to your task.

“What’s all this?” He asks with a smile.

“Your musical education.” You set the laptop and CDs on the counter by the stove before turning to get you both pie and coffee. “Or the beginning of it.”

He laughs a little picking up the top CD, Queen’s greatest hits. “I liked whatever you had on earlier.”

“I should hope so,” you turn back to him smirking, “if not we would be having some serious problems. Queen is non-negotiable.”

“Noted. Here,” he comes over and grabs the plates with a slice each, carrying them to the table.

You follow with the coffee, “I haven’t made pie in years,” you sit across from him, “so don’t judge it too harshly.”

A half smile lifts his lips, “I have no doubt it’ll be amazing.” He reaches across the table, his fingers grazing the back of your hand wrapped around the mug, “Thank you.”

“It’s just pie,” he rolls his eyes playfully, “but you’re welcome.”

He takes a bite, eyes closing as he savors it, and you anxiously wait for feedback. When his eyes open, he catches your stare. He laughs, “Are you gonna watch me eat the whole thing?”

“Just nervous,” you grumble, shoving a bite in your own mouth, mostly for the distraction. Honestly, it’s pretty damn good.

“It’s great just like I knew it would be, and you,” he points with his fork, “are ridiculous.”

“I thought you said ‘amazing’,” you say over a mouth full.

This earns you a laugh, “It’s amazing. Better?”

You shake your head “I suppose.” 

For a bit you sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the treat. You chase a large bit of flaky crust with a gulp of coffee before asking, “Do you have a phone?”

He raises a brow, “That’s out of left field. But… No? Haven’t had a need… Why?”

“Thought it may be good for us to have some way to get in touch. Like if one of us runs late or if there’s pie waiting,” Or if the group of Nazis who tortured us for years shows up. You know you don’t have to say the last bit. It’s implied.

He nods, “Good point.” Taking another bite he looks pensive. “Phones are easy to track though.”

“Not if you set ‘em up right,” you pull yours from your back pocket. “If anyone tracks this it’ll ping them to Africa. Hacked it myself. We can do the same to yours.”

“Sounds good. Should come up with some shorthand too. Make sure we can communicate a lot of info quickly if we need to.”

“Definitely. Tomorrow?”

“I got more stuff to do on the job,” you notice his eyes avoid yours. Interesting.

“Ok, I can grab one, get it set up.” You stand to wake up the laptop, “For now though, it’s time for school.”

By 10pm you’ve made a simple meal, the whole pie is gone, and you’ve given him a thorough history lesson on why Queen is inarguably one of the best bands of the 20th century. He sees the appeal, though some songs, such as Bicycle, give him pause. Now you’ve moved on to Fleetwood. Another non-negotiable.

His head is resting on the arm of the couch, body stretched out, legs dangling off the other end. You’re on the floor, back against the couch. Gently he runs the fingers of his right-hand through the short crop of your hair as the album Fleetwood Mac plays. Rhiannon is wrapping up and you’re half a world away in your mind, spinning on a rooftop with ghosts. His voice, soft and drowsy, pulls you back to this little apartment in Romania.  

“This makes me think of you” Bucky’s fingers pause, and a smile warms his half-closed eyes before he yawns.

Your heart tightens a little. Nix would call you Rhiannon sometimes, he knew what you could do so anything witchy he’d lovingly associate with you. You aren’t at a place to divulge this though, it’s too real, too personal.

“You look tired.” He nods. You were already in a pair of leggings you’d bought earlier and a tee, perfect sleepwear. “Come to bed,” you grab his hand and gently tug him in the direction of the mattress but he doesn’t budge.

“I’m ok here,” you give him a look. He is not a small man and it is a small couch.

“You are not.”

“Really, this is fine.”

You sigh, if he didn’t want to share a bed that was fine but there’s no way you’re letting him sleep like that. If he even can. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sleep on the bed, I can take the couch, I’m shorter.”

“Y/N-” You roll your eyes, cutting him off by wrapping your power around him and lifting him just a touch. His eyes meet yours, awestruck.

“Don’t make me move you. I can,” you smirk.

“I almost want to make you,” he grins mischievously, “just to see if you really can.”

You raise an eyebrow. Without ceremony, you will him up and let him plop hard onto the mattress with a thud. It was always easier when you were doing it for fun. He looks genuinely surprised.

“How do you think I got you in my squat after knocking you out?” His head is on your pillow and you yank it from under him with your power sending it floating to the couch.

He laughs, “I didn’t think about it honestly. It’s pretty damn impressive.”

“I know,” you wink. “You gonna sleep in your jeans?”

“If I say yes are you going to threaten to strip me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He reaches up from his spot on the bed and gently rubs the back of your calf with his left hand, fingers squeezing slightly. For a second you think he is going to tempt you, your mouth practically waters at the thought, but a shadow covers his features.

“I think I can handle that,” he gives you a halfhearted smile before getting up and going to the bathroom.

Disappointment wraps around you. Picking up your copy of Frankenstein from the table you cozy yourself on the couch. You finished it earlier today but had started again, from the beginning immediately. It had been a while since words had brought you a strange sense of comfort like this.

Bucky comes out in just his boxers and you force yourself to not stare, to not want what he so clearly wasn’t offering. He walks over to you and you allow him a warm smile. Something is troubling him, you don’t want to add your worry and disappointment to his shoulders.

When he cups your upturned face in his hands your heart skips a beat. His eyes are more grey, stormy though not cold, and you can’t quite read the emotion in his face. Instead of trying to make sense you cover his hands with your own and just savor the feeling of his touch.

He leans down and you hold your breath, hungry for his lips. But they only press against your forehead tenderly. Now you can read the emotion on his face as easily as the book at your side. Sadness and disappointment.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” His smile is tight, his eyes glistening. As he pulls away it takes every ounce of strength you have to not pull him to you, to not kiss him, hold him, try to calm the sea of hurt in him.

“Sleep well, Buck.” He doesn’t say anything else, just lays down with his back to you.

You flip the light off, no longer in the mood to read, and lay down too. For a few minutes, you watch the steady rise and fall of his breathing, your mind working over everything. 

He had been distant since his flashback. Every touch extra gentle, almost every action thought out. Then, despite all the kindness he’d shown you, he seemed shocked you accepted the key to his place. It’s as if he’s just waiting for you to run screaming… You realize that’s exactly what he’s waiting for.

“Bucky,” your voice is soft, not wanting to startle or wake him if he is asleep.

“Hmm?” Drowsy but still conscious.

“I want you to know, I meant it before. I’m not afraid of you...” Silence thunders in the space. You know he heard you…

“I know,” his tone is measured. Relief floods your system for a second before he follows with, “I’m scared enough for the both of us.”

@bluegirlusa1 @l0kisbitch @tazzi-baby @disagreetoagree @woodyandbuzz20-01 @mooniightbucky @souless-and-sarcastic @saundrasays  @breezy1415 @alyssaj23 @mywinterwolf  @wonderlandmind4 @fairislesheets  @anamcg317 @buckaroo-barnes @jazztherebel @peachthatdrinkslemonade @regulusirius  @auskitty @babyimp1967 @katecolleen @handplucked @piensa-bonito @darkdragonphoenix @issanitydead  @thestorydetective @buckysstar @wintersoldierswhore @greyeyedsmile14 @watchoutforfrostbite @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @meg-asaur @jewelofwinter @siriuslycloudy2

[cassiefanfic]

B-A-B-Y Baby

Fandom: Baby Driver

Character/Ship: Baby x Reader

Warning: Fluff

Writer: Cas

Words: 1018

Summary: Y/N always took things slow. She always has a routine that was just her way. That all changed when a boy wearing sunglasses and headphones walked into the coffee and music shop she worked at.

Y/N’s POV

I always kept my routine. Wake up, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, brush teeth, go to work, eat lunch, leave work, go home, eat dinner, read, sleep. Always the same thing.

I'd have my headphones in, cleaning tables, shelving records and CDs, making coffee as orders were handed to me. I'd always have the music loud but nobody minded. As long as I did my job I was allowed.

It's been the same for 5 years. Same routine, same ways. All the same. Until one night, it changed.

I was working alone that night so I took care of the late night stragglers who wanted their caffeine fix for late shifts at work or studying all nighter students. It was normal really. It’s not like I had much of an option if I wanted a paycheck. The small crowd cleared out and I wiped down counters. Sugar by the Archies began playing in my ears as the door opened and a lone customer came in. I walked to the counter, ready to take his order.

“What can I get for you?”

“Four black coffees.”

“What’s the name for it?”

“Baby.”

I stopped as my sharpie touched the first cup and looked up at him. He tilted the sunglasses he wore down his nose and I got a better look at him. He was at least 6 feet tall, his dark brown hair lightly swooped over, enough to be casual but not too much of a pop-star wannabe. His light brown eyes sparkled a little as he stopped and smiled, his white teeth glistening under the store’s lights.

“B-A-B-Y. Baby.”

I nodded and quickly got to making the order, readjusting my headphones as I gulped. What was I supposed to say? Ok, say something smart. Something sweet. Something memorable.

“That’ll be $12.”

He smiled and took the four cups before laying a $20 on the counter.

“Keep the change….” His eyes glanced down at my name tag before returning them to mine. “Y/N.” He smiled and walked out, taking an iPod out of his pocket and changing the song a bit. I smiled and wiped off my counter as I thought to myself.

Baby….. B-A-B-Y….. Baby.

The next day, I walked into the shop for my shift, shaking my hair out from the rain that was pouring outside. I took out my headphones and looked around, happy to see only three customers. It took a second…. But one of them looked very familiar. He sat alone at a table with a cup in front of him, headphones in. I gulped and walked behind the counter, tying my hair up, washing my hands and putting my apron on. I walked to the computer and clocked in, giving myself till access before a customer walked up to the counter. I looked up and opened my mouth to give my usual spiel but the words left me so fast. There he was, standing there with his coffee cup in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Baby….”

“Y/N. I was wondering if I could get another cup of coffee. Like the one you made last night.” He smiled and threw away the cup he was sipping at before sliding $5 across the counter. I smiled and nodded, walking over to my machines and fixing him a fresh cup of coffee before getting him his change. I handed him $2 back before he quickly handed it back to me.

“I was wondering if you could tell me what you are listening to.” He motions to the headphones dangling around my neck. I quickly get my phone out and turn on the screen, showing “Juke Box Hero” by Foreigner on my screen. He smiled and nodded, standing up straighter. “That’s a good one.” He said as he took his fresh cup of coffee.

“What about you?” I quickly replied, motioning to his headphones. He took out his iPod and held out his iPod. I looked down and saw “Take On Me” by a-ha.

“That’s a classic. It’s really good.”

He smiled up at me before motioning to the CD’s and records we had for sale. “Show me some of what you listen to.”

I looked over at the other worker behind the counter. He was a bit older than Baby and I, and a sucker for love stories. He cried once when a couple had their proposal in the shop. He nodded to me and I walked back around, walking to the shelves upon shelves of music, headphones around my neck as I ran my fingers over the records. I looked over to Baby, catching him staring at me as I focused so intently on my hands as I ran them over the clean covers. I stopped my hand and gently plucked up a record. I turned to him and smiled, revealing the album to be Amy Winehouse’s Back to Black. He took out his headphones and smiled as he took it up in his hands.

“It’s one of my favorites. Rehab is still a classic.” I said as he looked over it and smiled wider. “Well Baby… your turn to show me one of yours.”

After about half an hour, I picked up David Bowie’s Greatest Hits and looked up at him.

“Now this… If I had to choose one album to take with me forever… this is it. This is my getaway album.” I held it lovingly as Baby looked at it over my shoulder.

“So if you just escaped… and could just drive, no plan at all, this is what you would choose?”

I smiled and nodded. “Exactly.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know… not too sure yet-”

His phone began buzzing violently and he grabbed it. He sighed and handed me $30 for the collection of CDs in his hands. “I gotta go. See you around.”

“See you later.”

He hurried out, smiling back at me before walking down the sidewalk.

“See you later Baby.”

B-A-B-Y….. Baby.

[ladydlite]

Recording Love, A BTS Fanfic

When my agent told me he'd gotten me a chance to record with Agust D aka Suga from BTS I wasn't exactly thrilled. I haven't been in this business very long, and I didn't want to meet my bias feeling like a wannabe. I wanted to meet him, I have even before I got a record deal, but I wanted to meet him as his equal, not some no-hoper who's music would only get noticed because of him. I guess I should explain. I'm a hip hop/r&b singer/rapper/songwriter. My debut album came out last summer and it was the hardest work of my entire life. I have toured tiny gigs, hauled my CD's from my agents car trunk into clubs, done more paperwork and sat in more meetings than I ever did as a secretary, an assistants assistant. If you're imagining some glamorous lifestyle you'd be wry wrong. I've been told I'm too fat to be a star, too ugly and that I should have a host of plastic surgery procedures if I want to make it as an idol. Okay, I might not be Barbie but I'm not ugly or fat! I refused to be turned into one of those "aegyo" Kpop girls who don't seem to stand for anything other than sickly sweet lyrics and cutesy dance moves. My music is about real issues, not whether or not my boyfriend is hot, or if the cute high schooler has a crush on me. Sorry, this is my personal pet hate! As soon as I released the debut album I had to get started writing for the next one. There's no let up in this game, and if I want to stay true to my ethos I'm not going to sing something written by someone else that's just going to sell. When my agent heard my first new song for the next album it was his big idea to call up BigHit and arrange a deal. I have no idea how he swung it, maybe he had an in or is blackmailing someone, anyway, he did it all behind my back and then dropped the news on me like a ton of bricks. At first I was angry, my agent could tell I wasn't happy. "Look, this newest song is perfect for a duet with Min Yoongi! You told me he was a big inspiration for you when we first met, so of course I pounced on the song to get you a chance to record with him. I thought you'd be pleased, isn't he the reason you started writing songs in the first place?" He said, as he leaned on his desk heavily, "I've stuck my neck out for you, I called in a very big favor to get you this opportunity. Be a good girl and do what your told!" I hate it when he does the "I-know-better-than-you" schtick, and worst of it, he does! So I sighed but on a fake smile and crossed my arms so he'd know I was faking it. "This is going to be a big break for you!" He said. "So is Min Yoongi being told to suck it up too?" I grumbled. "He's been given your debut album, and asked if he'd like to record with you," he said, he was talking to me as if I were his bratty teenage daughter at this point. God, I hate that, it did nothing to lighten my mood, but I reminded myself that I was basically a bottom feeder at this point and if I didn't take this chance I might never get to record with Yoongi again. "Sorry," I said, trying to lighten up, "I just wanted to be a super cool idol when I met my idol and not just a pathetic little wannabe who's riding his coat tails!" "Hey, you mightn't be an idol yet, but you are not a wannabe. You've got talent! You are going places, do you think I'd be representing you if you weren't?" He said encouragingly. "Thanks!" I said smiling bravely. So that's how I ended up sitting in my tiny flat having fan girl nerves at 4 in the morning. Apparently Yoongi had liked my album and thought I was talented, he'd been given the lyrics and he'd liked those too. He'd agreed to record with me. The second I heard that I felt my heart beat so hard I thought I might be having a heart attack. My knees nearly dropped out from underneath me, and I'm just grateful I was home and no one was there to see me change to the color of oatmeal. Then after I put the phone down and my legs had decided to support me again, I ran around my apartment screaming like the true fan girl I am! I didn't sleep the night before I was due to go to the recording studio. I didn't know what I should wear, I spent the night picking out clothes and outfits and then throwing them on the floor and starting again. By the time my agent rang my doorbell I was crumpled in a heap, asleep on the clothes I'd rejected as trying to hard. I opened the door with bleary eyes and he marched in, saw me, smiled knowingly went straight into my bedroom picked up a white t shirt and some black skinny jeans and packed me off to the bathroom to shower while he made me coffee and breakfast, which he basically forced me to eat and then drove me to the studio. I was so nervous I don't know how I didn't throw up in the car, I kept looking at my agent like a scared rabbit. Maybe I could back out? Maybe I could do it another day? Maybe I would have a heart attack in the car and I'd die before I had to make a complete and total fool of myself in front of the one person I so desperately wanted to impress? But then we pulled up in front of the recording studio and my agent made me get out of the car, i hadn't died, we weren't going to do it another day and I couldn't back out. Seriously! How I even managed to walk into that recording place, my legs were like jelly, is a complete mystery! We sat in the waiting room until Min Yoongi had arrived with his handler and his representation. I gulped constantly for like 5 minutes while we waited, apparently my agent had arrived early in case he'd had to drag me inside. The receptionist asked me if I needed a glass of water because I was gulping so much, but I shook my head, I was sure if I drank or ate anything I was going to vomit all over Yoongi. "Are we late?" Asked Yoongi's handler. "No, not at all, we were just a little to eager to be able to do this," said my agent smoothly, "let me introduce my client." He said as I stood up on my jelly legs, and took a step towards my agent, Min Yoongi and his people. We shook hands and he actually half smiled at me, could he tell I was dying of nerves and resisting the urge to fan girl at high pitch? "So, let's get a coffee," said the handler, "then the talent can talk about how they want to create?!" He lead us all into a coffee room with an industrial looking espresso machine on one side with some tables and two soft looking sofas down the other end around a coffee table, Yoongi made his way to the sofas and I looked over my shoulder at my agent who nodded at me like he was my dad not my agent, I was secretly grateful, I was pretty much, and sorry but, shitting bricks with nerves and fear. "I really liked your album, you've got some serious talent and that shit is ballsy, like Jessi ballsy!" Said Yoongi as I sat down on one of the sofas. I gulped again, "Thanks!" I said my voice rough like I'd swallowed gravel before I opened my mouth, "that really means a lot coming from someone who is as talented as you!" He looked over his shoulder and his handler came running over, "What can I get you creatives to drink?" The handler asked us. Yoongi looked at me as if I should order first. My hands were still shaking, and I was desperate for caffeine hoping it would help with my nerves. "Cappuccino, double shot of espresso no sugar, thanks," I said after I'd cleared my throat. The handler nodded and looked at Yoongi, "That sounds good, make me one too!" He replied the half smile back. When we were "alone" again he spoke again, "Thank god, I thought you were going to be a sickly sweet fangirl! I only came to see if this wasn't some manufactured rebel shit, but a woman who drinks coffee like that must mean business!" "Thanks," I said, "I do, but I'll be honest, I was proper fangirl-ing from the early hours before my agent came to pick me up." He smiled again, I couldn't help but smile back. His hair scruffy and his dark eyes filled respect, this guy, my idol, the guy who I had dreamed about working with, the guy I'd had a huge crush on since their debut respected me, and was treating me like a creative equal and not like the total wannabe I felt I was. We spent hours figuring out how we could work best together. How his style could be incorporated into my song to best showcase our work. It was the best creative meeting I've ever had, and sure I haven't had that many, but I will always use it as a benchmark for any others. We spent so much time drinking coffee and planning out how it would work we didn't actually record anything that day. Okay, so now you're probably really confused, thinking that the magic fairies were recording all the music. But I am a new artist and my music is mine so I am involved in finding musicians, I write all my music and play piano so pretty much all my music starts from a piano base. When I get into a recording studio I spend all my time those first few weeks and month laying down beats from drummers and melodies from guitarists and stuff like that. So my producer had at his point hired all the musicians that I'd auditioned, basically guitarists, pianists, violinists, sometimes a bass player or trumpet player, it kind of depends on what style I'm trying to achieve. So when me and Yoongi met for the first time all that was still to do and I was quite impressed that he wanted to be involved in that bit too. He came into the studio every day after that, we'd sit at the mixing desk and lay down bass and beats, I'd give direction but he would give suggestions about things and I of course listened, the guy is a freaking music genius! We'd spark of each other and before too long we had the music down and we're thinking about the rap and singing. After each day I'd come home with a sort of glow inside me, I was tired, exhausted actually but I spent every evening smiling to myself. Then I'd go to bed and smile as I thought how great the day had been, or how smart and kind Yoongi was. He tells you straight but he's not mean, he's just honest sometimes brutally so. He's so sincere, after the year I'd had it was refreshing not to be BS'd all the time. Then there was the night I dreamed he kissed me, I woke up slowly and so happy but when I remembered my dream, I sat bolt upright. Look, I've said, I'm a fangirl, I've had a crush on Suga for a long time, so sure I've daydreamed plenty that I was kissing the cherubic Yoongi but after meeting him I'd stopped doing that and I'd certainly not dreamt about him for weeks, not since hearing he'd be recording with me. So when I woke up and realized I'd be dreaming we were kissing, I won't explain how far we'd got before I woke up, pleasant as it was and believe me it was, I felt guilty. It felt like I was somehow not treating him like a person, like I was treating him like an idol on a poster. When I got to the studio that day I couldn't shake that tingling feeling from my dream, every time I looked at Yoongi I felt myself starting to blush. Seeing him just brought back the dream image and the sensation of his kiss and it made me nervous, as nervous as the first day we'd met. "Are you alright?" He asked me when we sat on the sofas in the coffee room eating lunch. I composed myself and made myself look at his sweet face. "I'm fine," I said as calmly as I could manage, the blush was growing, I could feel my cheeks get hot as I tried desperately not to remember the dream sensation of his mouth on mine. I gulped, "I... I had some very vivid dreams last night, and I guess I didn't sleep so well." "Oh? I hope they were good dreams, at least?" He replied. I couldn't help the smile that crept on to my lips as I remembered my dream, "Looks like they were." I looked in my lap, trying to restrain the blush that was steadily burning my cheeks. Oh god it was so embarrassing, as if he could see what I'd dreamt about him in my face! I tried to keep my hands away from his on the mix desk, just grazing his fingers was making it difficult for me. Whenever he got up he'd pat me on the shoulder or something, carelessly touching me, it was the most exquisite agony, and I think I blushed for at least 12 hours that day. The next day was a little easier, but it was my turn in the booth, and singing about loving a man as my equal and seeing him behind the mix desk with a technician nearly killed me. In the end my voice started to go from the tension I was feeling and I had to take 5 and go take a moment in the ladies room. I think someone must have worried about me because my agent showed up and came into the ladies room. I didn't think I'd been in there long. "Okay level with me, what is going on?" He asked straight out, I looked up at him and I thought I was going to cry, "Oh shit, is it that bad?" "It's the nerves, he's my idol, it was fine and then I had a dream about him and now I can barely look at the guy!" I replied emptying my soul in the ladies bathroom. "What do you want me to do?" He asked, looking at me like a concerned parent. I put my head in my hands, what did I want to do? I had no idea, all I knew for sure was I wanted to do this track with Yoongi, I didn't want him to think I was a weirdo. "Nothing," I said my head still in my hands, "I just have to get a grip and be a professional! I can't let my personal feelings get in the way of my music or his career!" "Good girl!" He said an patted my arm in a pathetic kind of way, "I'll get out of your way, come out when you're ready!" I don't know what he told Yoongi or the crew but when I came out Yoongi was looking at me, as if he were concerned about me, but he smiled when he saw I was looking at him. I went back in the booth and finished my singing part. It was a bit easier after that, except I caught Yoongi looking at me with an puzzled expression on his face a couple of times. The next day I got in early, I guess I wanted to make up for the mini meltdown I'd had the day before, I listened to what we'd done the day before, it was good. I made coffee, talked to one of the technicians, planned out what we might do to that day. The morning was nearly gone but Yoongi was no where to be seen. I started to worry. Had I put him off? Had he changed his mind about recording with me? Had I, without knowing it, scared him off? I spent the next few hours trying to be professional, trying to focus on my music, trying to work and not to worry about him or why he might be late. I was really feeling lost without him there, would I be able to finish my album when I'd finished recording with him? A million different things kept running through my head and I was just about to call my agent when Yoongi walked through the door. "I'm sorry," he said, looking sheepishly at me, "I had to see my doctor. I... I had a dream... and you... you were in it. It was a good dream, but I needed to talk to someone before I saw you." A dream, oh shit! What kind of dream?! I tried to smile, but my thoughts were running wild. The day continued on pretty much as any day would, except I noticed that Yoongi didn't touch the mix desk when I did or pat me on the shoulder when he wanted to tell me he liked the music. In fact all the careless touches stopped, I felt so bereft, I'd gotten so used to his caresses, even though they were unintentional. It made me feel lonely, as if we'd dated and then broken up. It got worse, the next day when he was recording his rap, rapping about how his woman was fierce and how much respect he had for her and I made an excuse and left the recording room. I don't why, but it hurt to think he wasn't talking about me. I felt like a newly heartbroken ex-girlfriend, not a co-creator or collaborator. "Are you alright?" He asked when I came back from the ladies again and he'd finished recording. He searched my face concerned, I smiled bravely and looked into his beautiful eyes, how I didn't die I have no idea! "Yes, thanks, I'm fine," I lied. "Oh, okay," he said awkwardly his hands dropping to his sides. I wanted to kiss him so badly then, wanted to tell him that I was falling in love with him and that I didn't know how I was going to carry on recording when he wasn't with me anymore. But he walked off into the coffee room, and left me standing outside the recording booth. I thought I was going to cry then. I don't how I stood it, seeing him every day, realizing how much I wanted to be with him and not being able to, it was the most beautifully painful thing I think I've ever experienced so far in my life. A few days went by, it was the weekend and we'd decided to come in on the Saturday to finish the track, edit it and piece it all together. We'd worked pretty much all day, we had a quiet lunch in the coffee room with the technicians, then about 3pm they left and it was pretty much just Suga and me, and a receptionist who had the keys to lock up with, who was at reception. It was late and we'd just finished the track, it was excellent, it really was, I was so pleased with it and it dawned on me that this was the last time I'd see him. Even if we promoted it together, it'd never be just us again, any music videos or press junkets we would be surrounded by people. I started to cry, I didn't mean to, it just came without warning and I turned away from him in my chair to hide my tears. "Fxxk it!" I heard him say and he spun my chair around and took me by the shoulders and kissed me. Hot and hard, and passionate and I stopped caring and just kissed him back as hard as he kissed me. It was spicy and sexy and so so sweet. I didn't want to stop. I want to keep kissing him forever. He pulled me away for a second and looked at me. "You kissed back?!" He said surprised. I giggled, I couldn't help it, he looked so in awe that I'd kissed him back. I nodded, biting my bottom lip my face warm from kissing, "I thought you weren't interested in me!" I started laughing then, I couldn't stop, I'd been agonizing pretty much from the day I met him, and then after the dream my agonies just got worse, and then he'd stopped touching me and I'd felt broken. Now he was acting as if I'd been the one who'd stopped. "You..." I said mock tapping him on the arm, "I'm the stupid fangirl whose spent days holding in my desires and here you are acting as if it was the opposite way around. Why did you think I had a melt down in the ladies? I'd had a really hot dream about you the night before and then I had to come in and not imagine you kissing me every time I looked at you or you brushed my hand on the mix desk!" "You had a dream about me? I told you I had one about you! I went to my counselor because I didn't know what it meant that I'd had a sexy dream about you!" He said, "That's why I was late! I thought you were hot from the day we met, and then you turned out to be a badass too who was serious about music and I respected you too. Every single day I wanted you more, and then when I thought I might tell you how I felt, if I could look at you while I was recording the rap, you disappeared." "I disappeared because I couldn't bare to hurt while you rapped about the woman you respected and loved and it not be me!" I replied, "then I realized tonight I was never going to see you again and started crying." "I just thought you were sick of me, but I couldn't go without kissing you at least once, even if you didn't respond," he said. I was in his arms by then, I'd gone from total misery to absolute ecstasy in one kiss. I looked up at him and pulled his face down to mine, and kissed him again. Hotter and harder this time, his tongue tasting mine, I won't tell you what happens after that, it's enough to let you know that we left the recording studio and ended up at my tiny apartment. The next few days were crazy, i met the guys and we spent a lot more time together, he helped me with the rest of my album and I hoped he'd never ever leave me again, at least not in his heart.

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

-----

-----

WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART FIVE

-----

High school was so inconsequential now.

In fact, it was so meaningless that even listening to Mr. Remora discuss the history of African-American music throughout the 70's couldn't keep Michael Kay's attention.

Since he was a kid, Michael had always fidgeted constantly. Lately though, this habit had become much worse.

The afro-headed teen could barely contain his foot tapping and desk shuffling all the way through eighth period. He'd been anxious all week; after all, it was just this past Friday that they had begun their Music Master training regime.

And it was a veritable miracle that Kim hadn't decided to just drop him like a hat. All of it just made Michael Kay hungrier for more.

His mind darted from thought to thought, and though Mr. Remora continued to drone on like an aardvark with a sinus infection, Michael was too busy thinking about Canned Heat again.

Canned Heat and YMCA, he mentally recounted, unaware of the few students around him now thoroughly annoyed at his fidgeting.

These were the only two songs Michael had tried so far, out of all the hundreds stored in his five- year old music player. Part of him was afraid to try any others for fear of musical suicide, while the other part was beyond eager to do so.

Michael began to go down his mental list of songs to try, when his gaze shifted in class, and he suddenly noticed someone a few desks ahead to the far right.

She was looking out the window, dressed in a white t-shirt, a loose blue checkered blazer and ripped jeans.

This girl seemed to be pondering intently, but what caught Michael's attention the most was one of her silver lighting bolt-shaped earrings, which he could just spot out of the locks of her long blonde hair.

There was something super familiar about that earring and about her, but between all of the craziness that had happened to him recently, he couldn't put his finger on exactly where he recognized her from.

Michael almost debated opening his mouth and asking her, but even he wasn't so oblivious to forget he was in the middle of class.

He stared at the clock instead. Time was clearly crawling along like a Bob Dylan song, to his displeasure.

Michael Kay just buried his head in his arms, praying for this terribly long day to end.

Then just a moment later, as if the angels themselves were answering his prayers, Michael felt a hard buzzing in his left pocket.

Michael glanced up quick. Mr. Remora had turned around, too busy jotting down a chart of famous musicians. With a quick motion, he checked his phone.

It was a text from Kim. She had specifically asked for Michael's number in the event he ever flaked on her. It was quite a surprise to think she would actually reach out to him like this though.

All the message said said was the following:

Audio Empire 

4 PM 

don't be late

Mr. Remora turned back around, wiping a slime trail from his nose without even the slightest tact. By this time though, Michael had already hidden his phone away.

His huge grin, however, was anything but hidden.

Maybe he could make it through history class after all.

-----

For as long as Michael Kay could remember, Audio Empire had been the place for music in his Washington Heights neighborhood.

In all honesty, it was probably the place for music in the entire Tri-State area. At least, that's how Michael felt.

No one could resist their selection, not even Kim Ramone. For once, Michael was silent next to her, one orange headphone in his right ear playing his usual music. He watched as she flipped through various vinyls in the old school punk rock section, going with precise speed through the Dead Kennedys and The Clash alike.

"So even you have to be wondering by now why we're meeting here." she began, not turning away from her album search for even a second.

"Uh..." Michael replied, though a bit unsure. "...did I mess something up?"

Kim smiled to herself, but she still didn't turn to face him. "No, you're fine, actually. This is pretty serious though. I was thinking about those Zero Beat flunkies that came for me in the Dust Bowl.  There's going to be consequences for what happened that night."

Michael scratched the back of his head in confusion. They were in the farthest corner in the basement of the store. It was relatively empty on a Thursday night, and strangely they had no music playing in the speakers overhead.

"You're worried about them? We owned them. They wouldn't think twice about coming back for you after that beatdown!" Michael exclaimed, his tone now excitable.

This time Kim spun around, mostly in response to just how loud Michael had become.

"Lower your voice! You already forget what I said about having a big mouth?!?"

Michael shrugged as he looked around. The basement of Audio Empire was just as empty as when they had arrived.

"What? It's just us and records down here. You worry way too much, Kim."

Kim's patience was clearly lost at this point. She put an accusing finger on Michael's chest as she addressed him.

"And you don't worry enough. They might be a joke, but Zero Beat isn't."

Michael's eyebrows raised. He had heard the name before, but had never thought to ask about it.

"Oh yeah. Zero Beat. What is that anyway?" he asked quite nonchalantly.

Kim stared straight at him, now unaware herself just how loud she was getting.

"They're people that Music Masters don't mess with. Especially Music Masters who didn't even have the slightest idea of what they're doing. And what you don't realize is that by doing what you did in the Dust Bowl, they're going to remember you. And they're not going to stop coming after me and you until they get payback."

Michael expression dropped at the sound of her words. He gulped audibly, the carefree feeling in his stomach was whisked away in but a moment.

"...Payback?"

Kim narrowed her eyes, not mincing a word.

"Yes, payback. And that's why we're going to keep meeting on Fridays. That's why I need you to be at the top of your game, so that you can have my back when they decide to show their faces again."

The reality of the situation was dawning on Michael quickly, and he tried his best to distract himself with the music still playing in one ear. In his nervousness, he picked up a stray vinyl from the rack, twirling it between his fingers in an attempt to relax.

"So this is what I get for helping you, huh?" Michael remarked, the hopeless in his voice now very obvious. "Man, What did I do to deserve this?"

"Hey!" Kim shot back, tired of Michael's whining. "I didn't ask for your help. Don't blame me because you decided to play the hero. And let's not forget that I could have just left you in the dust awhile ago."

Michael held the album in front of him, taken a little aback as Kim's voice got louder still.

"But did I do that, Afroboy? Did I royally screw you over?"

Michael's voice was low, but audible enough. "No."

"That's what I thought. So don't give me lip. We do things my way, or we don't do them at all. Am I crystal clear?"

Michael didn't even answer. He had turned away, looking down at his music player as he allowed his mind to wander.

Kim's voice was becoming less and less audible with each passing second. Soon enough, Michael just found himself spacing out as Kim berated him.

Perhaps it was a defense mechanism carried on from his younger years of dealing with Colleen, but Michael Kay focused on the only other thing audible besides Kim; his music.

And coincidentally, that music just happened to be Canned Heat.

Everything fell into place so quickly, though not in the way Michael would have wanted.

"Uh, everything alright down here?"

Both Michael and Kim turned at the same time. Kim's mouth was still agape from all her shouting, but Michael had allowed his subconscious to take hold. In his right hand, he still held up the same record he was twirling before.

Unfortunately, it was now very much burning to a crisp, as the red-orange aura flared brightly over his right hand and Canned Heat played freely in the air.

Standing in front of the two Music Masters was none other than the same girl from Michael's history class. Only this time, she was wearing a winter jacket with keys jingling in her hand. Her name tag read "Aeris."

It was at this time that Michael Kay finally remembered her as the same cashier who rung him up that fateful day when he first emerged as a Music Master.

In a panic, Michael spoke quickly, much to Kim's chagrin.

"Uh yeah! No problem here! We were just practicing our bit for the school talent show."

Michael couldn't be any less convincing with his words. Aeris just ignored him though, her gaze now focused on the burning record in his hand.

Kim closed her fists, hot anger quickly boiling inside her. She couldn't believe Michael was this stupid.

Noticing the silence, Michael's gaze followed Aeris. His eyes widened at the sight of the now smoldering vinyl.

"Oh shit." he said quite loudly, before dropping the record and stomping on it with reckless abandon in an attempt to put out the sudden fire.

Both Kim and Aeris just stood by in relative disbelief. When Michael was finally done, he was breathing heavily, changing his tone in his best attempt to diffuse the situation.

"Wow, talk about spontaneous combustion. What are the odds?" he joked, his grin wide but doing little to hide his nerves.

Aeris finally reacted, looking down at the damage and speaking just as politely as Michael remembered.

"It's alright. Most of the records down here ain't worth much in change anyway. No harm done." she assured, turning around to head to the nearby closet to grab a broom and dustpan.

"An' I guess I left the music on down here. It's been a long day."

Kim's expression instantly changed at the sound of her words. Michael looked overhead, remembering that the music speakers had been off in the basement since they'd got here.

Kim didn't try to hide the suspicion in her voice in the slightest.

"Music?  What music? I don't hear anything."

Aeris stopped in her tracks, frozen with fright once she realized the mistake she had made. It had been bad enough that she'd been working two hours before her shift to cover for her lazy coworkers, but even still she was always good with managing her exhaustion.

Not knowing what else to say, Aeris just continued her cleaning as if nothing happened.

By now, Michael removed his earbud, and his hand had gone cold as Canned Heat no longer played in the air.

Aeris's continued silence spoke volumes for Kim. She stood over her, arms crossed and her shadow oppressive, but the blond seemed unaffected.

"So what? Now all of a sudden you got nothing to say?"

It took close to a thousand years, but Michael's eyes widened once he finally clued in to the situation.

"Wait a second. She heard my music? But that means...it means she's a Music Master too!"

Now the jig was clearly up. Not much of a surprise to Aeris though. This afro-headed guy had forgotten more than once what he was buying from her experience.

Just about finished, she swept the rest of the burnt record into the dustpan. When she stood up to face Kim, her expression was anything but scared.

"That's my business, not yours. I don't remember having to tell you my life story, thank you very much." she shot back, clearly done with being interrogated.

Kim just narrowed her eyes and held her ground. "Just stay out of our way. And forget what you saw if you know what's good for you."

Harsh lightning seemed to spark between Kim and Aeris's eyes, and it was at about this time that Michael finally had the courage to intervene. He quickly got between them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and throwing on a grin to offset the tension.

"Okay, relax everybody. Nobody is getting in anyone's way. I mean, it's not her fault she saw me. It's my fault for being careless."

"Save the maturity act, Michael." Kim commented, clearly unconvinced.

"Don't mind her." Michael said, now addressing Aeris. "I don't know about you, but I'm super new at this Music Master stuff. Kim's been training me since last week though, so I'm starting to figure it all out."

"Just tell her everything while you're at it."

The venom in Kim's voice was obvious now, but Michael was anything if not relentless.

"Hey! You should totally join us for training tomorrow night! I mean, the more the merrier, right?"

He looked back at Kim, but she just turned away, clearly aggravated at the whole turn of events.

Aeris, on the other hand, seemed somewhat receptive. Whoever this afro-headed guy was, he didn't seem even an iota as volatile as his friend. And if she was ousted already like this, than maybe it was such a bad idea to at least try to keep it somewhat under wraps.

Aeris pondered the thought for a moment. Unfortunately, she quickly remembered the old sensation of pain in her palms. The idea of using her song effects again was not a joyous thought in the slightest.

Michael noticed the black fingerless gloves over her hands, and she rubbed her palms together with uncertainty. Despite her doubts though, this was for the best considering the situation. At least, for the time being.

"I'll come watch. But only if you promise to keep this on the down low. My brothers got enough to worry about as it is." Aeris told Michael in her most serious tone of voice.

"Hey, I'm the king of down low. You can count on me for sure." he beamed in response.

"Really? Could have fooled me." Kim grumbled under her breath.

"My name's Aeris. Nice to meet you. Well, officially at least. You're here like every month." she remarked with a laugh, the effect of Michael's smile finally eliminating the tension of the whole situation.

"Yeah, I guess I usually am. I'm Michael. We're in history together."

At this point, Kim was finished with formalities. She pushed past Michael with a grunt, turning on some music in an attempt to distract her from his boundless stupidity.

He just shrugged in response. "Oh, and that's Kim. She's a bit complicated."

Michael wasn't going to let her suddenly foul mood kill this chance though. He walked with Aeris out as she finished closing up Audio Empire. Unlike Kim, she didn't seem to mind him talking her ear off.

It took Aeris a few more minutes to lock up, but that was more than enough time for him to talk about himself, his time with Kim, his uncle Rob, and his top ten favorite disco songs. He neglected to mention their first encounter with Zero Beat however. Even he wasn't that stupid to scare her off this early.

Michael waited by the front door as she closed the register. He was practically ready to jump out of his skin from all the excitement. Now where there was but one fellow Music Master, there were two. And unlike Kim Ramone, Aeris seemed like she might not just berate him all the time for opening his mouth.

Outside, Kim waited silently as her music blared loudly in her ears. She gave Michael a particularly fierce look of death as he came out with Aeris in tow.

Kim would come around, he thought to himself.

She couldn't be angry forever after all.

-----

Outside, looking as innocuous as a passerby, a familiar shaggy-haired blond teen watched as Michael, Kim, and Aeris parted ways in front of Audio Empire.

He could only theorize what they were doing together. He knew Michael and Kim were Music Masters for sure now.

As for the cute blond cashier that he'd seen time and time again, to see her in their company that was certainly a surprise.

Aeris was her name, if he remembered right.

He'd have to remember that tomorrow night, at Kim's usual meet up time in Central Park.

Calvin did want to make a good first impression, after all.

Fast forward to the next track...

[addictedtojohnandsherlock]

Chapter 47

(After 40 minutes of Sherlock examining the body and bouncing ideas off both John and Molly, John notes how much more the detective seems to value their opinions. Perhaps he is having a positive influence on his flatmate. Even for all of his petulant behavior and still with a tendency to toss out insults before thinking. He believes Greg shares this opinion as the silver fox watches Sherlock with the corners of his mouth turned up.

Not long after Sherlock has completed his examination, the three men are riding in a cab to Braeden Fox’s flat.)

S: What has Donovan told you thus far?

G: (with a puff of breath) Not a lot. The file has been started, so there’s some information there. Fox’s partner was working late. Ended up falling asleep at his desk and didn’t get home until 6am. He found Fox dead on the sofa. Donovan and her team were there by 7.

S: She was there? Why did she fail to get the ALL of the proper information?

G: She got the basics, Sherlock. She did her job and left the details for later. AND no one will ever think of everything you do on the fly.

(Sherlock straightens his spine haughtily and looks out the cab window.)

J: What else can you tell us?

G: No forced entry. All the partner’s clothes are missing. Some other items too - toiletries, some books, CDs - that sorta thing. His mobile is missing too.

J: That doesn’t seem right. He would’ve had it with him.

G: Said he must’ve misplaced it. Fox’s mobile is in evidence. He phoned him twelve times and, most likely, left messages. (shaking his head slowly) I’d love to get my hands on Travers’ mobile.

J: Travers?

G: Finn Travers. Fox’s partner.

S: Mmm. (steepling his fingers before his lips and deep in thought) He is at the flat?

G: Yep.

*                          *                          *                               *                              *

(Finn Travers is a slender man with short, light brown hair and a tan. He is in his mid-30s like Fox and his eyes are red and puffed. He stands straight and tense, looking at Sherlock with attentive eyes as he answers the man’s questions.)

FT: Uh, we’ve been together for five years. Living together for four.

S: Forgive my curiosity, but was there ever any...trouble between the two of you?

(John and Greg’s jaws nearly drop at the detective’s tact. In the past, he would have asked that question point blank and indelicately. Travers still bristles and crosses his arms tightly.)

FT: We argued on occasion, but did either of us ever cheat? No. I wanted to marry him.

S: He didn’t?

FT: He didn’t know. I never screwed up the courage to ask.

J: Did someone not approve of his choice of partner?

FT: What? No. His parents died years ago, before I even met him. It was an auto accident. He didn’t have brothers or sisters.

S: He was a stockbroker and gaining clients, wealthy clients. Quite an asset to the company. Would one of the partners have considered him a liability?

FT: Because of me? No. He didn’t go out of his way to tell everyone he works with, but he certainly didn’t hide it. We went to company parties together.

S: And your family?

FT: My parents live in the States. They love Braeden. (He pauses when his voice catches.) We were so happy. 

S: And siblings?

FT: (clearing his throat) My older brother, Ben lives in Cornwall. He owns a farm out there. It’s big business and this is a busy time. He won’t be able to leave to come to the funeral. (lowering his eyes to look at his own hands) He’s beside himself. Braeden and I love going to the farm. Some of the greatest times of my life.

J: And he’s married? Kids?

FT: No. The farm is his life. 

S: Tell me about your mobile and your belongings.

FT: I honestly don’t know why anyone would take my things and, as for my mobile, I must have left it somewhere. In a cab or at the restaurant.

J: Restaurant?

FT: Yes, I had lunch with a friend yesterday at Cafe Tilda.

S: Mr. Travers, have you any idea why Fox would consume an entire bottle of wine on his own? Did he do it often?

FT: No. No, he had a glass every evening to relax. But a whole bottle? No.

S: Was he prone to depression?

FT: (face hardening, jaw set) You mean would he kill himself? Is that what they’re saying?

(Travers looks from Sherlock to Greg furiously. John steps forward to defuse the situation.)

J: Fox’s mobile is in evidence. Do you have any idea why he would phone you a dozen times all within two hours of his death?

FT: (eyes wide and struggling with words) He must have been worried about me. He’d want to know when I’d be home.

J: (shaking his head) He was dead within three hours of getting home.

S: He knew you were working late. Why would he be worried at that point?

FT: (hands going to his face and then scrubbing through his hair) Oh, god. Are you saying... Are you saying he may have been calling for help? That I could’ve...

(John steps forward again and looks directly at the shaken man.)

J: We don’t know anything yet, Finn. We are just gathering information, yeah? (The man focuses on the floor. His body shakes slightly.) Look, it won’t help, but if Braeden was murdered, I’m sure there’s nothing you could’ve done to change it.

(After looking over the flat and the crime scene, such as it is, since Travers was permitted to clean after photos were taken and furniture dusted earlier in the day. Greg, John, and Sherlock are nearly out the door when Sherlock stops in the entry way.)

S: This friend you met for lunch...

FT: Justin? What about him?

S: Justin? How long have you known him?

FT: Justin Giles. Since University. He, Ben, and I have been friends for (puffing out a breath) more than ten years.

S: And he knew Braeden?

(Travers hesitates, looking a little uncomfortable. His eyes drop to the floor, glance at John, and then turn back to Sherlock.)

FT: No. (The detective’s brows raise and he studies Travers with interest.) I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the other side of my sexuality at school. (He glances at John again.) You know how it is. Kids at University are stupid and prejudiced. Justin is my best friend, but it’s always been pretty clear that he would never accept that part of my life. He only saw me with girls back then. 

S: And your brother? He kept your secret?

 FT: Yes. We were all such good friends before any of this came into play. Ben knew why I wanted to keep it quiet then and now.

J: And how did Braeden feel?

FT: (looking at John) He didn’t like it, but he respected my decision. It was one I made before I even knew him. (sighing) I was going to tell Justin. I couldn’t very well keep it from him if Braeden said yes.

J: You don’t think that had an effect on your hesitation to ask him?

(Travers meets John’s eyes thoughtfully. A few seconds pass and then his eyes drop to the floor.)

FT: Yeah. Yeah, I guess it did.

*                      *                               *                                   *                            *

(The trio’s final stop is New Scotland Yard to look at the crime scene photos and other evidence. They have been in Greg’s office for hours. John let himself out after offering to get coffee from the canteen. Greg had accepted with a ta. Sherlock waved him off. 

Cups in hand, John walks in the office door where his fiance and his friend are deep in conversation.)

S: It makes perfect sense, Lestrade. The killer knew Fox drank wine every evening, but he is a novice with poison. Not only does he put too much in the wine, he wants to make sure Fox drinks as much of it as possible.

(John puts the coffee on the paper and file-covered conference table next to Greg, who nods.)

G: Ta. (back to Sherlock) And he gets him to drink all of the wine how?

S: By upsetting him. Making Fox think his longtime partner has left him.

G: (swallowing a gulp and giving the detective a look of satisfaction) So he steals all of Travers’ clothing and some of his other things.

S: Things that he knew for certain belonged to Travers and, for the sake of appearances, Travers has left Fox.

(John opens his mouth to speak, but Greg suddenly snaps his fingers. Placing his coffee on the table and begins rifling through the pages in one folder.)

G: That text message.

J: Text message? (He looks at Sherlock and then back to Greg.) What text message?

G: (skimming over one of the pages) The last text on Fox’s mobile that came from Travers said ‘You must be home by now. I’m sorry.’ We didn’t think much of it when we saw the transcript. Figured he was apologizing for working late.

J: (looking over Greg’s shoulder) He got the message long after Travers said he misplaced his mobile.

S: The killer stole his mobile at the lunch they shared and sent the message after he watched Fox enter the flat. Also to keep Travers from answering one of Fox’s many calls.

J: And the illusion is complete. Fox thinks Travers has left him, so he drinks. The wine is right there anyway. He keeps calling and gets no answer. (John and Greg smile at a job well done. John looks to Sherlock and his smile fades.) Wait. Lunch? Travers’ friend is the killer?

S: Yes. The other items that were taken were all dated. Albums that were popular when Travers was at University, textbooks he decided to keep - things Giles would remember. He planned the lunch because it was the easiest way to get the mobile.

J: But how did he know anything about Fox? Travers wouldn’t have told him. 

S: Fox’s secretary. Giles has been dating her for some time now and he slowly learned everything he needed to know from her. (They look at him incredulously and he shrugs.) I asked Dimmock to interview her after we examined the body. It was obvious that someone had given the killer information. We were going to see Travers. The next logical source was Fox’s secretary. They know everything about their employers.

J: (with a little grin) Oh, really? I know everything about you and I’m not your secretary.

S: (smiling back) But you’re also my fiance.

J: (coyly) Details.

G: HIS WHAT?! 

(They both look at Greg with wide eyes, but John’s eyes are quickly drawn to an object on the table that was only just revealed as Greg replaced the mobile transcript in its file folder and closed it.

A bright red, shiny apple sits near the center of the table. John feels white, hot panic course through his veins.)

J: (loudly) Where did that come from? (He grabs Sherlock by his lapels and pulls him close.) Did you bring it in here?!

M: Sherlock. (All heads turn to see Mycroft Holmes standing in the doorway.) Irene Adler is dead.

(All three men are frozen in shock. John releases his detective’s lapels and turns toward the elder Holmes.)

M: We found her remains two days ago. I wanted to be certain it was her. She was murdered at the same time John was captive on the island.