#the whole first verse of this song is so adrenaline inducing for me

[poser-in-a-parkuhh]

I feel it welling up inside

And Robert Smith lied, boys do cry

and with blood tears in my eyes

I’m an Anne Rice novel come to life

I cant hide the monster anymore

One can only feel desolate for so long

[prismartist]

Haul Away Jay

Fandom: Just Roll With It (Riptide)

Words: 3175

CW: implied/referenced character death

Relationships: Chip & Jay Ferin & Gillion Tidestrider

Summary: Jay is bored. Very, very bored. So, understandably, she tries to find a way to entertain herself.

She wasn't quite expecting the entertainment to come in the form of a song and dance, or that the other two would be roped into it.

None of them are complaining, though.

A/N: @tokencishetchip idk if you remember but you asked to be tagged for this a little while back !! here's the albatrio having fun with a sea shanty :D

Ao3

– – –

If there was anything that Jay Ferin knew as she leaned on the railing of the Albatross one peaceful day, watching the sun slowly set beyond the horizon, it’s that she was unmistakably, undoubtedly, incredibly, and painfully, bored.

Maybe it was the juxtaposition of the current situation to cursed islands, cursed casinos, or crewmates being dumbasses (well, that wasn't really a curse, but it sure felt like one sometimes), but standing on a boat in the middle of an endless calm sea under an endless calm sky wasn’t the most exciting event in the world.

Jay let out a sigh that floated out onto the indifferent blue water. She heard Gillion shout something from atop the crow’s nest, and Chip shouting back in turn as he walked down from the helm and started lighting the lamps. It was nice to see the two working in harmony.

Old man Earl was nowhere to be seen, probably in the kitchen making dinner and more orange juice. Jay was looking forward to that the most right now. She wasn’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

Well, she thought as she redirected her attention back to the ocean, if only they could find the adventure they all hoped for.

Her mind drifted in an attempt to entertain herself, going back to her days in the tavern. She had spent hours there working her butt off for loud, gruff soldiers, laying down in bed afterwards and thinking that her aching bones and five hours of sleep weren’t worth it. Over time she had learned to ignore the exhaustion, but compared to the adrenaline-inducing fights and rewarding victories she experienced now, Jay didn’t miss it.

Suddenly, a melody started to creep into her mind, a tune that she didn’t expect to hear in a long while. While tied to the memory of the tavern, the feeling the song settled in her is calm, comforting even. Jay closed her eyes, allowing herself to listen to it.

Apple sang serenely as she sat on the crow’s nest, and her chirps melded into the melody that Jay now recognized.

It was an old sea shanty, one that Jay often heard from the navy soldiers that frequented the tavern. She recalled memories of drunk men singing joyously, unprofessional in their performance, as if they were celebrating being freed from their ruthless job even for a night. Sometimes though, the way they would sing would come out soft and genuine as they sat in relative sobriety after a hard-fought battle, reflecting as the first few hours of the dawn crept up behind them and the orange rays shone on the mournful men. Jay would look on, almost in awe, unable to believe these were the same people who maimed and killed and imprisoned.

Jay hummed the beginning of the tune to the best of her abilities, and did not notice Chip cast a curious glance at her. She faltered as she lost the words, struggling to remember.

How did it go again…?

Oh. Right.

“Oh maiden, oh maiden, the love to I,” Jay sang softly. “I adore the shimmer, the shimmer, the shine in your eyes.”

She smiled and started to continue, but was cut off suddenly by the sound of Chip’s voice. Her eyes flew open and she turned in his direction, having half a mind to snap at him, but stopped upon realizing what exactly he was saying.

Or, rather, singing.

“It enamours, enamours, thy light to my life.” Chip was as surprised as Jay, eyes wide as he continued easily as if by instinct. His voice was surprisingly smooth and not all that bad. “Thy touch, carries, it carries, my soul to the sky.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, processing what had just happened.

Jay tilted her head, and spoke, “How do you-”

“I-it’s a song, I– the Black Rose Pirates used to sing it all the time.” Chip saw a small flash of a memory, of fireflies fluttering around in hanging terrariums, of voices chanting the same song as Chip joined in. He gestured a bit wildly, as if he was trying to swat away the image. “You?”

“I heard it in the tavern a lot.” Jay chuckled, a little in disbelief. “I guess it’s more popular than I thought.”

Chip vaguely remembered being lifted into the air by a laughing Arlind, teasing him for messing up a line, the golden glow overhead. “I guess so-”

“And my love! I swear in the sun and the rain!” The booming voice of Gillion Tidestrider rang down, causing Chip and Jay to look up and see the Triton slide down the pole, landing with a flourish. He straightened and completed the verse in a perfect baritone. “That someday, our hands will intertwine once again.”

Gillion grinned at the other two’s astonished faces. “That's an oversea song, is it not? My sister taught it to me. I much enjoy it as well.”

Chip turned to Jay. “So definitely more popular than you thought,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jay muttered, feeling a grin grow on her face. “A little different in some places, but yeah.”

She found herself tapping her fingers against the boat to the beat of the shanty and humming the post-verse interlude. Gill and Chip noticed as well, and their eyes trained on her, silently assigning her the role of the shantyman.

Jay tensed up upon noticing. She’s not used to performing, especially in front of an audience (could you call two people an audience?). It’s far from one of her strong suits.

But after a moment of contemplation, she eventually decided that, fuck it, it’s time to sing.

They started this ballad, they might as well finish it.

“Oh damsel, oh damsel, my heart belongs to thee.” Her voice cracked a bit on the high note, which Chip snickered at, but Jay merely shot him a dirty look and continued. “If you are troubled, so troubled, you must only call on me.”

“And though it rages, it rages, the condescending sea,” Chip joined in, his smirk slowly morphing into a genuine smile.

“For you I know my journey will succeed,” he finished, noticing Gillion’s voice join in. Chip glanced at him for a second before letting out a soft chuckle.

Jay started stomping on the boat to get the beat going. To her delight, Chip clapped rhythmically and Gillion followed both their suits. Energized, Jay hummed louder.

“And my love, I swear in the waves and whirlpools,” all three sang together, “Soon we will meet and once again become whole.”

With a laugh, Jay skipped closer to the center of the ship. She spun and gestured, mimicking the dances she had observed at Loffinlot, imagining a band accompanying her as she sang as loud as she could.

La, la la la, la la la, la la la.

Gillion was quick to join her, imitating her dance. His heavy boots threatened to break the wood they danced on, but Jay only cared for the lovely bass beat and snare they happened to offer. She grinned at him approvingly, and Gill grinned back.

Off to the side, Chip hung back, providing the main melody.

“Oh lover, oh lover, don’t you dare cry.” Jay reached out a hand to Gillion, who took it. “But laugh and laugh under the pristine blue sky.” She raised it and lead him in a spin. “And never, oh never, would I ever lie. I wish nothing more than for us to reunite!”

Gillion grabbed Jay by the waist, catching her off-guard, but as he lifted her into the air, she loosened up and cheered, feeling the song come to an end.

When she landed, Jay made a show of dusting herself off before bowing to Gillion. Gill, ever the gentleman, bowed back, and Jay giggled.

She looked over to Chip, leaning against the railing and watching with a rather deflated smile. Jay raised an eyebrow. That didn’t look right.

Absent-mindedly tapping his toes, no longer minding the beat, Chip stewed deep in his thoughts. Seeing his friends dance their hearts out was a nice scenario, don’t get him wrong, but despite the undeniable want to join in the festivities, there was a hesitance that Chip couldn’t quite get over. Maybe it’s the weird ache when he remembered voices that he’d never hear again. Maybe it’s because he didn’t want to interrupt the others’ joy. Who knew. Chip sure didn’t.

And Chip definitely didn’t know why the sight of Jay marching towards him made him panic.

“Hey,” Jay said, and Chip immediately heard the over-friendliness in her voice. “What’re you doing, moping in the corner? You said you and the Black Rose Pirates sang this all the time, right?” She leaned forward and locked eyes with Chip, who tensed up. “So, show us what you got.”

She daintily held out a hand, and with it, a challenge. “Dance with us.”

Chip’s eyes grew impossibly wide as his face flushed. “Oh, nah, nahh, that’s okay, I’m really not a dancer,” he stammered. “And you guys are already done with the song, so I really don’t-”

“Gill.” Jay smirked. “Take the beat.”

“Wha-”

“On it!” Gillion grinned with sharp teeth and began to stomp and clap again. He hummed deeply, the tune once again emanating through the ship.

“Jay,” Chip begged, taking a step back. “I don-”

“Nope, round two, coward!”

“Ja-AAAAY!”

Chip yelped as Jay grabbed his arm and dragged him to the newly appointed dance floor, guiding his kicking and screaming form into one of dance. She took one of Chip’s hands and held it up, putting her other hand on his shoulder. “Your free hand on my waist,” she reminded him, ignoring his confused sputtering. “And one, two, three, go.”

She lead the dance in a sort of wild, messy foxtrot, stretching their clasped hands in the direction they move in, side skipping energetically. Chip stumbled at first, caught off-guard, but he quickly adjusted to her same pace, glancing at the ground to make sure he was keeping up. Seeing his face relax and the corners of his mouth quirk up, Jay smiled at him encouragingly.

“Sing, shantyman, it’s your turn,” she said.

Chip’s expression turned into horror once again, gulping as he scrambled to remember the words in time for the melody.

“O-oh maiden, oh maiden, the love to I,” sang Chip.

“I adore the shimmer, the shimmer, the shine in thy eyes,” he and Jay sang together.

“It enamours, enamours, thy light to my li-IIFE, JAY!” Chip screamed as Jay gave him a spin, laughing at his surprised shriek. “Jay, don’t just spin me without warning!”

“You’re being sloppy, shantyman,” Jay teased. “Keep up with the song.”

Chip glared, but continued nonetheless, “And my love, I swear in the sun and the rain.”

Jay gave him another spin, but this time, Chip didn't miss a beat. He gave Jay a smug, triumphant look. Jay raised an eyebrow in turn, admittedly impressed.

“That someday, our hands will intertwine once again!”

“Alright, nice,” Jay complimented, grinning widely.

Chip caught a mischievous glint in her eye, and his face consequently fell.

“One more spin, pretty boy!”

Before he could protest, Jay suddenly spun Chip away with a greater force than before, and the world around him became a blur, the air swirling with the sound of Jay’s devilish voice.

“Gillion,” he heard her yell, “catch!”

And Chip is spun into the arms of Gillion, who beamed at Chip’s very red face.

“Come, Chip.” Gill took both of Chip’s hands. Chip, still trying to recover from the jarring switch of partners, only blinked down at their now clasped fingers. “It is our turn.”

“Oh my god.” Chip laughed nervously.

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

“Oh damsel, oh damsel, my heart belongs to thee,” Jay belted as Chip and Gillion figured out their dance. “If you’re troubled, oh so troubled, you must only call on me.”

The other two started to push and pull in tandem, reminiscent of a cha-cha with a bit more energy and spins thrown in every once in a while. They surprisingly guided each other with more harmony and grace than Jay expected.

“And though it rages, it rages, the condescending sea.” Gillion leapt and circled with Chip, almost lifting the latter off the ground. “Just for thou I know that my journey shall succeed!”

“Gill, calm down!” Chip chuckled, partly in amusement and partly in fear, as he started to lose his footing.

Jay looked on, not ignorant to the warm fuzzy feeling in her chest, the beat pulsing along with the adrenaline in her veins.

“And my love, I swear in the waves and whirlpools, soon we will meet and once again become whole.”

Soon she joined them, whooping as she jogged, and they welcomed her with wide smiles, one pair of hands separating to reach out. Jay took the offer to form an interconnected circle, spinning and bobbing as they shared the melody. They sang, as loud as they could, filling the air with a joyful energy.

“Oh lover, oh lover, don’t you dare cry,” Chip started.

The others joined in. “But laugh and laugh under the pristine blue sky.”

And laugh they did, the pure euphoria of indulging in fond memories emitting from them. They stumbled and laughed through mistakes, put their all into the performance, harmonising wonderfully.

Jay caught Pretzel doing somersaults in her globe and Apple circling the crew, chirping the tune with them. She’s reminded of a joking conversation about starting a band. Perhaps they had a chance after all, she thought amusedly. Gillion and the Tidestriders. Chip and the Bastards. Jay and the Dumbass Bluebirds. Whatever you wanted to call it.

Now, though, they were simply three friends, holding hands and dancing, rattling the wood of the ship without a care, singing a sea shanty that they all happened to know.

The stars slowly flooded the darkening sky and twinkled at them like they were dancing along.

To one, the fresh air, the touch of familiar calloused hands that had fought alongside her, and the spray of the ocean was a welcoming contrast to past memories of stuffy spaces and dispassionate work. To another, though the memory was a bit painful, it still brought him the same comforting feeling from years ago, sharing laughter and celebration in a tight kinship that was expected in that of crewmates, deepening the bond with experiences that were not just in battle, but in recreation. And to another still, it was a reminder of a time when he was desperate to learn the oversea culture, and that he still remained ever so curious now as he learned its differences and similarities to his world, forming relationships with its inhabitants, people who were perhaps not as cruel as the elders had suggested.

Those who share such joyous experiences with others must not be that selfish, after all.

“And never, oh never, would I ever lie. I wish nothing more than for us to re-u-nite!”

Jay grinned up at the sky as they hummed the outro melody, a gust of wind sweeping down on them and carrying their voices away, out onto the shimmering waters.

La, la la la, la la la, la la la…

A tug from Jay led the trio up in one final leap, whooping and cheering with the others as they followed. And once their feet landed simultaneously with a bang, the song ended.

As the rush receded from her mind, the pumping blood in her ears quieting down, Jay took in the sound of the waves crashing up against the ship and her heaving breaths. She looked up at the now star-filled sky, wondering when it got so dark. She allowed her hand to slip from her friends’ grasps, moving to lean on bended knee. Jay heard the other two breathing quite heavily as well, and even a plop as Chip seemed to collapse out of the corner of her eye. She followed suit, sprawling onto the wood and closing her eyes, catching her breath. Jay wasn’t extremely tired, but she needed to recuperate.

“Oh god, you kids just had to make a racket up here, didn’t ya?”

Jay breathed out a chuckle upon hearing the raspy voice. “Hi Earl.”

“We were partying, Old man Earl!” Gillion said preppily, unsurprisingly not as out of breath as the others.

“Earl, you got…” A huff from Chip. “You got orange juice? Perhaps? Please?”

“Hmph, you’re fuckin lucky I do.”

Tired cheers chimed from the pirates.

“But you have to go down to get it with dinner. Chop chop.”

“Ohh, come onnnnn,” Chip whined, joining in with the groans of Jay.

“I’ve seen you work, you’re not that tired,” Earl scoffed. “Maybe you shouldn’t have wasted all your energy on destroying the ship! And your vocal chords.”

“Hey, I don’t think we sounded that bad,” Jay said.

“Whatever, just come down and have dinner, I’m definitely not hefting everything up here.” Earl barked out a laugh and proceeded to go back down, ignoring the cries of Jay and Chip.

Soon Gillion’s face popped into Jay’s view. “Are you alright, Jay?” He glanced over. “Chip?”

“I’m coming around,” Jay assured. She stretched her arms up, making grabby hands. “Pull me up?”

Gillion complied, grabbing her arms and lifting her, though at a faster-than-preferred pace. Jay let out a yelp as she got back on her feet before stretching with a groan.

“Thanks, Gill.”

“Hey Giiiilll? Big man? Can I go next?”

Jay looked to Chip, who also had outstretched arms. Gillion walked to him and helped him up as well.

“Thanks, buddy.” Chip patted Gill on the back.

“No problem. Honestly, I did not think you would tire out so easily.”

“Well we need to gain back our energy, then,” Jay said, starting to follow Old man Earl.

“Hey, uh, Jay, um.” Chip caught her attention, and she turned back to see him with a raised hand. He moved it to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was… that was fun.”

“I agree,” Gillion said with a nod. “I was reminded of some… rather fond memories, actually. And it was a good exercise. We should do it more.”

“Yeah, yeah actually, same. I agree.” Chip looked up at Jay, his face rather tentative. “So, thanks for that, I guess.”

Jay smiled. “You’re welcome, dweeb,” she jabbed. “You’re being more affectionate than usual, but I appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t call me a dweeb!” Chip’s expression morphed into one of offense. “I just thanked you, that’s so insensitive of you. That’s actually insensitive.”

“I let you fulfill your showman dreams, you’re the one being insensitive right now.”

“Showman- hey, I actually like the sound of that.”

“Yeah you would, you drama queen.”

“You’re calling me dramatic? Have you seen Gill?”

The sound of bickering paired with Gillion’s oblivious chimes trailed below the deck, leaving a fond memory to the glittering dark waters and the twinkling stars still dancing along.

[talesmaniac89]

Choices - You Chose Dean

New to Choices? Start Here

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader. Go to the intro to start your story now!

Triggers: None really, some mention of Dean putting himself in harm’s way.

Choice:  [You chose Dean Winchester]

Y/N = Your Name

—

“Right… So, to make sure we’re ready…” Dean said with a sigh, eyeing the signs as they passed by. The tense tone and hard voice of a soldier enough for you to tell you were quickly closing in on the farmhouse in question. 

“There’s supposed to be five demons in there. We’ll have to take ‘em all out fast. Try to catch them off guard,” Dean spoke over the music, echoing the earlier plan and case details. Though you didn’t mind. It was better to be prepared. Know the case inside out. Especially when you were dealing with those slimy black-eyed bastards. They tended to try and wiggle their way free if you left them even the slightest bit of breathing room.

According to the briefing, the five demons had made themselves a cosy little home in the middle of farm town USA. Happily living their best evil little lives and causing havoc wherever they went. But they weren’t big shots. So, the fight shouldn’t be too hard for three experienced hunters. In, out, find a motel for a snooze if necessary and home in time for lunch tomorrow.

“We’ll have to split up. (Y/N), I think…” Dean started, those infuriatingly striking green eyes glancing up at you through the rear-view mirror and nearly leaving you tongue-tied. Damn him and his… Gorgeous fucking bastard. You couldn’t even think straight. Dean Winchester did things to your mind; filthy, explicit, breathless things. Leaving you mentally winded and unable to string two words together with just a flash of green or a blinding smile.

Yet you somehow still managed to get the protest out before he finished his sentence. The stubbornness of a hunter tackling the wanton daydreamer in you to the floor and wrestling the not-so-innocent devil on your shoulder into submission for long enough to let you find your voice again.

“I’m not sitting this one out Winchester,” You snapped back. Allowing your annoyance to mask the way the hunter always left you winded as you shot down Dean’s attempt to keep you out of harm's way. Like he did every hunt. Disguised as you either taking on the research-, backup- or otherwise removed from action roles.

Though he always failed. You were just as unwilling to see him hurt as he was to see anyone hurt. There was no way in hell you’d be able to sit a fight out and risk the man you loved (oh so very secretly and silently mind you) get hurt because of it. 

“Alright… But you’re staying behind me,” Dean sighed after a moment. Clearly sensing the fight brewing as he backed off quite easily. Plus, even the infuriatingly protective hunter had to agree that 3 against 5 were still better odds than 2 against 5. No matter how much he wanted to go in, guns blazing, alone to keep his little brother and you out of harm’s way.

“Ok, so… We’ll head in the front, while Sammy goes around back?” You clarified; happy he’d dropped the fight for once. And doubly happy since you’d be right there by his side. Able to protect him and the heart you’d silently slipped him without him noticing. 

“Yeah, after, we paint some Devil’s Traps outside. Give ‘em nowhere to run,” Dean’s voice was all business again as he revved the engine, green eyes hard as you sped down the old country roads. Straightening in your own seat, you felt the adrenaline start coursing through you. It was show time, and you were planning on kicking some serious demon ass. 

--- 

“Nice place they’ve got here…” Raising an eyebrow, you kept your eyes on the dilapidated farmhouse through the trees as you stepped out of the car, hidden just out of view from the demon hideout. Unable to stop the disgusted shudder that crawled up your spine as snapshots from some of the goriest movies you knew flashed in front of your eyes.

It looked like something from a classic horror movie. You could nearly hear the Deliverance banjo music in the background as your eyes scanned the rickety porch and rotting wood. It was the kind of place you’d normally scream at the characters on the screen to run away from. Not in fear, but in pure exasperation. After all, nothing good was ever found in old abandoned farmhouses. The demons in the one in front of you just helped prove your point. 

Following Dean to the back of the car, you kept your angel blade by your side as you busied yourself stocking up on holy water and enough iron to make Tony Stark jealous. Taking extra care to ensure everything was safely strapped to your body, and that none of the ‘pointier’ weapons would end up turning on you if you took a tumble. Though you knew you’d most likely just end up sticking to good ol’ reliable and angelic in your hand. The silver white blade thumping against your thigh matched your heartbeat. Adrenaline already coursing pleasurably through your veins from the thought of the upcoming fight.

You needed action, and you needed it fast. The nearly uncomfortable buzz in your body seemed to be reacting violently to the evil in the air, culminating in an itch in your bones that nothing but gunpowder and steel could scratch. So, as you finished building your wearable arsenal of guns, knives and all things pain-inducing, you glanced over at Dean, lips parted to get the show on the road. However, Dean wasn’t moving next to you. 

The gun he’d picked up first still heavy in his palm as he stood frozen, watching you. Worry making the green summer days in his eyes cloud over like a sudden midday storm. The barely hidden pain in them squeezing at your heart as you readied yourself for words you knew would come. 

“You don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do Dean,” You sighed, unwilling to even let him finish his usual attempt at making you sit the hunt out. The same frustrating song and dance as always, yet you couldn’t help the way your heart followed the rhythm of it. The kind, protective streak that made the hunter ask you that same question every time you set out to fight another monster was, after all, part of why you loved him. 

Always so willing to carry every burden on his own shoulders, yet hiding that small, fragile part of himself that showed how everyone’s burdens were taking their toll. Keeping his own pain, his own burdens, hidden until he was alone in the bunker. Or at least, until he thought he was alone. You’d caught him more than once. Tired green eyes squeezed shut as he rested his head in his hands, gasping for breath through the onslaught of guilt and hurt. Strong shoulders shaking with unshed tears and the weight of the blame he placed on them. 

He wanted to keep you safe. Not just you, but the whole god damned world. Still, he was just one man. One soldier in a war that had been raging since the beginning of time itself and he never put down his weapon. Always ready to jump back into the fray. Even as his armour cracked, and his blade dulled. Even as he collapsed under the weight of it all.

The family business; his life since childhood had forced him to hide away his fears as weaknesses. Shaping himself into a shield instead, as he readily threw himself into harm’s way if he believed it could save someone else. Dean Winchester lived like he had a death wish, even though he feared the unknown darkness that was waiting on the other side. Always a little too ready to sacrifice himself for the greater good. 

Never seeing that he was greater than the sum of his sins. That he was good. 

Never willing to believe that the world was a better place with him in it. Though to you it was. Hell… Without him in it, the world would just be a black and white imitation of its formerly vibrant self.

Because you knew the truth that he spent every waking moment trying to hide from the greedy world that just kept demanding more of its one-man army. That behind the soldier, there was a man with a big heart and a need to be loved. A young boy who was denied a childhood. A broken big brother that always blamed himself for pulling Sammy back into the life. A friend willing to sacrifice anything just to see you smile. And, a beautiful soul, who hurt and mourned deeper than anyone else whenever you failed to save someone. 

Dean Winchester was a complex man.

He wasn’t just a hunter, brother, friend or secret keeper of your heart. Dean was a heartrendingly beautiful story with untold depths, a full unexplored universe. With all the nuances and colours that painted a picture of his painful history in scars, heartbreaks and timid smiles that he felt guilty for letting slip. 

A story made up of all the stifled emotions and locked in screams, that easily brought those who knew him to tears. Peppered with small verses of agonisingly fragile hope and the long forgotten innocence of a childhood he never got to have. Hidden and hard to decipher among the many self-deprecating jokes and harsh rejections, yet not lost to you as it was to many others who saw the man as unfeeling and cold. Dean just had to grow up a little faster than most, it didn’t make him a monster, it didn’t make him any less human.

And you didn’t want to add new bruised and battered sentences to that story. You never wanted to be the reason for him to ever get hurt. So, as always, you told him the same thing you’d repeated for an immeasurable number of former hunts. Speaking into the quiet air around you as you grabbed one of the spray cans from the trunk.

“We’re in this together Dean. I’ve got your back, you’ve got mine. Forever,” 

--- 

Straightening back up with a stifled groan you admired your work. 

If all else failed and hunting didn’t work out, maybe you could turn to street art. The Devil’s Trap was expertly painted, if you’d say so yourself. Which you did. Albeit silently and in your own head, as to not alert the demons in the farmhouse to the right of you. 

The trap you’d been assigned was the closest to the Impala, another attempt from Dean at keeping you safe. Yet, it was also the most likely escape route if the demons turned cowards and tried to run for the hills. 

The sliding door just a few steps away to your right was not a planned entry point. So, they’d be most likely to try and use it to scutter away like the scared little black-eyed rats they were if it came down to that. So, your work had to be perfect. Allowing yourself just one more careful look over the symbols, you stepped back. Turning on light feet to carefully, and silently, re-join Dean by the front door. 

The worry in green eyes had once more been replaced by steely determination once you made it back to the front of the farmhouse. Squaring his jaw, he watched you quietly jog up to him before just as soundlessly signalling for Sam to start moving towards the back door with a raised hand and to fingers pointed down the path around the house. His own eyes moving to lock onto the front door, weapon at the ready while he relayed the wordless orders. Missing the small nod from Sam as the younger hunter stayed crouched and quiet, moving before Dean’s hand even had time to straighten out and silently relay his next orders.

Lifting his hand to you, you frowned at the straight palm facing you. He was asking you to wait outside for his signal. To let him walk in through the front door first and act like your shield in case something went wrong. 

Looking at him you gritted your teeth to keep the angry whisper at bay. Gripping your angel blade a little harder, you chose to instead just silently shake your head at him in protest. Catching his eye as he glanced away from the door to make sure you caught the order you tried to silently plead with him. But this time he wasn’t backing down.

His own wordless reply was just a repeat of the single hand gesture that was supposed to be your command and role in the coming battle. Green eyes leaving yours to cut off every silent argument you had as he kept his shoulders tense and jaw squared. 

Your stubborn hunter wasn’t going to let you argue this time as he slowly but surely started moving forward, towards the door. Leaving you standing in the gravel, fuming silently.

—

Make your choice below to move the story along:

What do you do?

[Follow him in] or [Wait outside]

—

Confused or New to Choices? Start Here Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where you pick your Winchester brother and go on a hunt for one of 8 different endings in total. Four for Sam and four for Dean (2 happy and 2 bad endings per brother). Go to the intro to start your story!

—

[musicandmusing]

Metanoia - Chapter 5

Description: Namjoon lives a double life, if you will. He teaches high school Literature and enjoys it. But in the safety of his apartment, he has his hobby, creating music under the pseudonym RM. His meddlesome friends push him where he stubbornly refuses to believe he can go and clings to the safety net he has created. But how strong can a safety net be when it’s full of holes?

Genre: Fluff and Angsty

Pairing: none, (Namjoon and his self-esteem?)

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Swearing and drinking.

He could barely keep his hands from shaking in his adrenaline-induced craze to bring his broken dam of thoughts out before one of them could be lost in the flood of too much and not enough. Tae leaned so close now that he had pressed himself into Namjoon’s shoulder. Yet Namjoon still couldn’t feel bothered by the lack of personal space, so intent on tearing down his half completed work to rebuild it stronger than before.  

A/N: This chapter has been sitting and waiting for a good day to post. It’s been done for months and I just haven’t hopped on a computer to get it posted and I apologize. TBH I’ve had a cursed week (car died, phone’s dying, hit my head at work) so it felt right to show myself all the hard work I’ve put into this story. It’s a bit of a technical chapter but it felt right. Enjoy! - Cinder

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

I sit in darkness waiting for your storm

The flash of lightning quick as it fills the black that consumes me

I keep my eyes closed to keep me tethered to the reality of you

All shadows and bruises, cuts and rough edges, words sunk deep in my back

A broken rumble shakes my bones out of their slumber

Waking me up to a new view I can’t recognize

Your hands covered my eyes, blindly led by you

Your soft words rattled my heart and tilted my world

Chasing the white rabbit your fictitious words created, I fell through your looking glass

Missed the signs that shouted at me to turn back and listen to the reasons why I shouldn’t

He listened carefully to the sample he’d just added behind the first verse. Feeling unsure about the necessity of it, he muted the track and listened again. Half way through the verse he unmuted it so that the heavy synth beat loop came in on “a broken rumble” and Namjoon smiled. But now that he was building on the bass line with the synth, it felt a little... like he could add more. He went into a folder of his preferred samples and found some hi-hat options and a few snare effects he liked. If he spliced the snare and hi-hat options together, cutting the sound off in the middle and creating an off beat rhythm maybe it would give that sense of off-balance the verse needed. He caught his tongue in between his teeth as he set his plan into motion.

He was nearly done carefully crafting the somewhat complex concept in his editing software when his mattress dipped unexpectedly causing him to let out a less than manly squeal and lean harshly to the right. He whipped his head around to see what had caused the movement and his heart rate immediately began slowing back towards normal. He could only send his best withering stare at his asshole of a roommate who grinned wildly at him while Namjoon continued to clutch his laptop for dear life. Tae had already settled into his pillows like it was his own bed, propped against the headboard next to Namjoon and legs casually crossed in front of him with his left arm thrown across his stomach. Namjoon stared at Taehyung, not having quite recovered from the shock he’d received while Tae had the gall to just take his headphones wordlessly from him. He couldn't even bring himself to react when Tae slid the laptop from his lap and started clicking around, clearly starting the track in its incomplete state. Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to get upset at Tae’s absolute disrespect for his privacy and work preferences as he watched his roommate carefully listen to the track. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he sank into his pillows and stared at the ceiling in resignation.

The whole situation really wasn’t even that unusual. Taehyung had interrupted his work on songs before so it’s not exactly a problem that he was listening to the track unfinished. But he could’ve at least found another way of barging in rather than startling him some like horrible jumpscare in a B-list horror movie. Outside of his already reducing frustration for his friend, he patiently waited for the verdict. As he slowed his breathing into a rhythmic pattern, counting slowly while he waited, Tae began to hum. What surprised him was that the snippets were a melody separate from any existing part of the song. Tae seemed to search for the notes as he paused and Namjoon heard him click the trackpad, to presumably back up the track and try the line again.

Namjoon immediately wanted to pick Tae’s brain on his thoughts but he patiently waited out Tae’s own creative process as he worked his way through the song. He had an idea of what Tae might say though, a backing vocal line or even a duet would maybe add some additional emotional depth. He could already imagine it. Tae’s husky tone could compliment the lyrics in a way Namjoon couldn’t quite capture alone. When Tae finally pulled the headphones down around his neck, Namjoon wasn’t surprised by his first words since he’d crashed into the room.

“I think I can add some vocals to the track.” Namjoon turned his head to see Taehyung’s eyes were shining with barely contained excitement, looking the same as he had just hours before while secondhand shopping. Humming, Namjoon nodded in understanding of the rush of creative possibilities.

“I figured that’s what you were working out.” Tae scooted closer to Namjoon and pulled the laptop to sit more in between them. He started clicking around the trackbar, one headphone pulled over his left ear, clearly looking for a specific part of the song.

“Well I was thinking about adding a chorus-like sound here if you think that could work and maybe a doubling here...” Tae played the song and gestured to the portions of the sound waves displayed on the screen as he described his ideas.

Although Namjoon could just almost make out the music coming through the neglected right side of the headphones, he couldn’t hear the song and so Tae’s words made little sense. In these moments he needed the song in his ear, listening for the potential hidden within the notes already laid out. Namjoon stopped the track and unplugged the headphones, forcing Tae to remove them with a slight look of confusion. He plunged his hand under the pillows beneath his back until he felt the tangle of earbuds he was searching for and pulled them out. Gently, he placed one half of the earbuds into Tae’s right ear as he took the other and scrubbed back to the beginning of the track on the computer. At least he hadn’t added any panning yet so the sound would be completely balanced between the two of them.

“Show me.” He looked at Taehyung with a seriousness that had Tae sitting up straighter, losing the slouch he’d until then been sitting with and adjusting his earbud to sit just so. Tae’s eyes glazed into complete focus on the screen full of soundwaves as Namjoon started the song again. They listened through the song again and Tae sang the parts he had pointed out before. It was just a skeleton of the sound, no words yet, and no additional voices to fill the chorus sound he talked about but Namjoon heard the idea. His brain was filling in the sounds he knew he needed to round out the arrangement and the wheels began to turn.

It dawned on him this could be a full-fledged duet and pulled his notebook out from under the pillow Tae was leaned against and started analyzing the lyrics. He ignored the look Tae gave him for probably his questionable storage technique while he worked, judging by the timing. It was effective and sort of weird but who was he to judge. Tae certainly had plenty of weird habits that Namjoon was privy to but he let slide on an almost daily basis.

His first instinct was to begin by sectioning off the second verse, a possible echo, bouncing the words from himself to Tae. His brain had gone into complete hyperdrive, imagining the possibilities of different breakdowns to include a vocal part, determined to include it now that Tae had convinced him. How will the lyrics change with the vocals. Should the verse slow down to give Tae more time to sing the lines. If he did slow down the verse, would he extend the loops or add new material. On second thought no adding more material. Relooping what was already there should work. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered Tae having crowded his space, leaning into his left shoulder with his head clearly in his peripheral but not enough in the way to disrupt the notes he made to accommodate the changes.

It was an adrenaline rush as he reworked and considered the changes in sound. The familiar heavy thrumming of his pulse took over the longer he dove into his work. He eventually decided to just give Tae the whole second verse and he would take the first verse. Then Tae would double him on the first chorus and they would split the second chorus into the bridge and then back into the repetition of the chorus with Tae backing while Namjoon covers the chorus alone.

You came through like a thunderstorm

You took me over and ran, ran, ran me down

Your symphony of sounds

Drowning out my reason

Gonna go take my shelter and weather your storm

He scribbled over all the original notes for the second verse and started noting his final ideas in bold strokes, solidifying his intention. Tae made a small noise of surprise but nothing that could shake Namjoon’s focus. It had only taken maybe five or so minutes to work it all out and he brought his laptop forward so he could start manipulating the track again. He began clicking around his recording program, sectioning off the areas of his recording where he needed to mute his raps in place of where Tae would sing. He could barely keep his hands from shaking in his adrenaline-induced craze to bring his broken dam of thoughts out before one of them could be lost in the flood of too much and not enough. Tae leaned so close now that he had pressed himself into Namjoon’s shoulder. Yet Namjoon still couldn’t feel bothered by the lack of personal space, so intent on tearing down his half completed work to rebuild it stronger than before.  

“Tae grab me my MIDI controller.” Namjoon pointed blindly in the direction of the mini MIDI controller he knew sat on his desk to Tae’s left. Even in the chaos of his desk cluttered with loose papers, empty cans of various drinks, a few mugs of various rounds of coffee or tea, he knew the mini MIDI controller would be easy to spot. Namjoon could perfectly picture it sitting in it’s usual nearly neat nook where it barely managed to keep from tangling with a charging cable for his phone, his charging cable for his laptop, and another pair of earbuds. Tae clearly had no difficulty finding it as he was back on the bed in less than 30 seconds, navigating the disaster zone of his desk easily. He even had the forethought to wrap the cord around it.

Plugging it in, Namjoon started setting up as quickly as he could, wanting to continue running on his creative high with Tae’s now seemingly ever-present weight against his shoulder. His roommate continued to silently watch and, normally, Namjoon didn’t let Tae in when he was in the throes of writing and composing but as he was an integral part of the inspiration it felt too trivial to force him leave while he edited the song to fit the new structure.

He started adjusting the settings in his software, trying to find a synth tone to that would suit Tae’s somewhat rough timbre. It needed to be easy for Tae to hear so probably an alto range to double his baritone as his guide. They'd just make a first draft recording with his cheaper microphone that sat on the shelf above his desk. They could really get fancy another time when it wasn't possibly already the next day.

Recording at home was less than ideal but he didn't have the expendable income to go and rent a studio full time. Just a couple hours here or there was the best he could do for recording any audio clips he needed. Besides for the purposes of a rough draft he had enough cloth in his room to help dampen any reverb anyway, what with the thick carpet and long window curtains. The mic was good enough it wouldn't pick up too much else outside of whatever was directly in front of it anyway. He'd gotten it second hand so it hadn't even been too out of his budget.

Namjoon spent 30 minutes, give or take because he didn't really pay attention to the time while he was composing or producing, experimenting with the melody. Occasionally he would wait for Taehyung to give some input, a slight shake or nod of his head if he liked the changes made.

“Taehyung can you grab the mic?” While his roommate grabbed the microphone from his desk shelf, he swapped the earbuds back for the headphones so Tae could hear the song better. They swapped microphone for headphones and Tae settled into a cross-legged position next to the laptop while Namjoon set up the microphone quickly. He didn't have to tell Tae what was happening next. It was clear it was time to record. He didn't even ask for Tae's permission but if Tae hadn't wanted to be a part of this he should've said something when he saw the notes scribbled all around the pages of lyrics. To Tae’s credit, he took everything Namjoon threw at him with ease, not even slightly flustered as he was pushed into the metaphorical spotlight in the privacy of Namjoon’s bedroom.

He pressed play and waited. Namjoon could just hear the song playing as Tae kept one ear of the headphones cocked partially off his ear in order to hear himself better. A technique Namjoon had taught him which he had learned through trial and error. He held his breath as he watched his roommate inhale and focus on the guide Namjoon had just carefully crafted for him. He began to sing, his voice a little rough from the day but it gave grit to the lyrics. Namjoon slid his eyes shut and let the rough yet smooth timbre wash over him. He couldn’t stop the goosebumps and pounding of his heart if he tried.

The world a tinted yellow

The rain hits my face and I think it feels like you

It’s hard and soft, soothes and frustrates

It slides over my skin like your fingers trying to pull me closer

But I’m not sure I want to stand in this rain anymore

To be broken into an unfamiliar form, just the way you wanted

Melted into your desired shape, cracked and glued back into place

Nothing quite the same as before, I won’t be rearranged no more

Want to recognize myself when I look in the mirror

His voice perfectly captured the shattered kind of feeling Namjoon was trying to describe, the loss of your own self due to the destructive power of another. Although he hadn’t truly felt that loss but the feeling of losing himself was always on the precipice of his thoughts, always a worry that never quite let go, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. Confronting it meant facing choices he didn’t want to second guess.

Taehyung had just finished the last line of the verse when his phone started vibrating angrily from his pocket, light shining through the thin fabric of his old sweats. He paused the recording and pulled out his noisy phone. Namjoon could see that Jimin was trying to FaceTime, a photo of him with Yeontan covering the lower half of his face filling the screen. Even with the poor lighting in the room, just the bedside table lamp and laptop filling the room with battling warm and cool tones, Tae answered. He angled the phone so that Jimin would get an unflatteringly close view of his nostrils as Jimin’s pixelated face filled the screen. Jimin was clearly in his own apartment, possibly in his bedroom judging by the multiple pillows he seemed to be leaning on.  

“Hey Jiminie what’s up?” Tae repositioned the phone into a slightly more flattering angle as he moved back towards the bedside table lamp so he wasn’t washed in near darkness. Namjoon noted that Jimin had completely ignored the strange way Tae had answered the call, his face neutral as he spoke.

“You’re not in your room.” Jimin frowned at the screen, clearly confused. “Where are you? Are you busy?”

“I’m in Namjoon-hyung’s room.” Namjoon leaned in onto his roommate’s shoulder so that he came into frame and gave a little wave that Jimin returned. “We were working on a song.”

“Oh! Can I listen to it?” The screen blurred as Jimin seemed to shoot up from his relaxed position and the volume at which Jimin had exclaimed startled both Tae and Namjoon into knocking their heads together. As the video refocused, he was clearly waiting like an excitable puppy for a treat and sat in anticipation against the wall he’d been casually leaned against previously. Namjoon glared at Jimin while rubbing the top of his head, although he was pretty sure he wasn’t in shot anymore as Tae settled back against the headboard again. He grabbed the phone to pull himself into frame again to respond to Jimin’s over-enthusiastic question.

“It’s still in the works. We just made some major changes.”

“I have a great idea then.” Namjoon raised an eyebrow and Tae leaned closer to the phone, as if he’d be able to hear Jimin. Even though the only thing that could possibly cover the sound of Jimin’s clear voice was the low hum of the heating in his room and the muffled sounds of the occasional car driving by their apartment building. “I was going to suggest it before. I’ve been playing some of your stuff to the producer I usually work with. He’s co-written a bunch of my stuff and I really like working with him. He’s super talented.”

Namjoon would say that Jimin is super talented too because he co-wrote a lot of his own music and can dance the pants off a koala but he kept his mouth shut. Jimin was clearly on a verbal roll and he didn’t want to interrupt him or turn down his plans, yet. Although he’d have to hold his tongue about playing his music for everyone and their cousin like some proud parent.

“I have a session with him tomorrow and you should come and get his opinion. Might have some interesting suggestions.” Jimin finished excitedly, beginning to slowly rock side to side and causing the video to sway. Namjoon opened his mouth to ask more questions about what he meant by ‘get his opinion’ and ‘interesting suggestions’ but his roommate butted in.

“Is that the grumpy guy you work with?”

“He’s not grumpy!” Jimin pouted at the screen, thankfully stopping his swaying in his effort to look put out. “He’s just tired most of the time. He pulls a lot of extra hours.”

Namjoon turned to Tae with a look that hopefully portrayed his distinct lack of understanding where this conversation had just made a sharp left. Tae just rolled his eyes and clarified his statement to Namjoon, pointedly ignoring Jimin’s pouting face. “I’ve met him a few times while sitting in on Jimin’s recording sessions. He’s like a cranky cat. Should have a sign saying ‘Do not touch.’”

“He’s nice.” At Tae’s incredulous expression to his boss, Jimin huffed. “I think I’m making progress befriending him.”

“Jimin. You call him your friend but he pretends he doesn’t hear you.” Namjoon raised both eyebrows at this and watched the exchange unfold like a tennis match, eyes shifting from Jimin on the screen to Taehyung next to him.

“Yeah but he always gives me appropriate breaks before I even say I need one and his constructive feedback is always helpful. He’s never rude when I make mistakes. He always has the mini fridge stocked with bottled water.” Jimin defended, clearly offended with Tae’s brush with the truth. At least Namjoon, assumed it must’ve been the truth since Jimin didn’t deny it.

“Sounds normal to me.” Tae said flatly while inspecting the fingernails of his unoccupied left hand while Jimin scoffed in retort. Namjoon felt like they had definitely forgotten he was even there. The experience was turning out to be incredibly enlightening though. He’d seen them interact in person quite a few times now but didn’t usually hear much of their conversations over FaceTime because he was not a nosy friend. Well, okay, a little nosy but he never went out of his way to be nosy. It was like they’d been friends for as long as he and Tae had known each other, the way they bickered. He let them forget his existence for the sake of his curiosity.

“Right! That’s progress! He used to not make eye contact at all!” Well that’s a bit strange, Namjoon thought. Not making eye contact at all? If he went in to meet this guy, he hoped he’d actually get some feedback, which sounded dubious from what he was hearing so far.

“Yes.” Tae just rolled his eyes. “Progress.”

“You do not roll your eyes at me young man!” Jimin’s voice hitched up a few pitches in his indignation at Taehyung’s antics. This was fairly familiar territory for Namjoon, scooting slightly further away from the phone for the impending shouting that was coming. He hoped his neighbors slept like the dead.

“You are only a FEW MONTHS OLDER.”

“You will NOT DISRESPECT ME, KIM TAEHYUNG!”

Namjoon could only see this going downhill from here if he didn’t intervene soon. He had to say that they certainly didn’t let the separation of a screen stop them from squabbling like two angry parakeets. Better to cut them off before there could be any serious repercussions. Like noise complaints. He’d like to keep his clear track record with the landlord.

“So what time should I show up tomorrow?” He plopped his head onto Tae’s stiff shoulder and whatever the two had been ready to throw at each other evidently died in their throats. Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise seeing Namjoon suddenly appear in frame and sat still for about ten seconds before he seemed to register Namjoon’s question. Namjoon had been planning to ask a few more questions about this producer but this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity to get an unbiased opinion on his music. Until… Unless he was signed. And if that happened, then he’d probably get a lot more opinions than he needed.

Jimin’s face turned from ready to kick ass to delighted so fast it gave Namjoon mental whiplash. “Tae will be able to bring you along. He’s supposed to come work on sketches for the music video while I’m recording. You can sit in while I work and see what he’s like.” The swaying of the screen started again and Namjoon tried not to feel motion sick from Jimin’s inability to control his physical manifestation of his emotions. Jimin looked at Namjoon expectantly as he leaned from one side to the other, head tilted slightly to follow his body’s momentum as he waited.

“Are you going to let him know I’m coming?” Namjoon questioned slowly when Jimin didn’t say anymore. If the guy was like a cranky cat, Namjoon would rather not make a negative first impression by crashing a recording session. He didn’t need any scratches.

“I guess I should do that shouldn’t I.” Jimin mumbled as his video cut out and the artificial sound of quick keyboard clicks crowded the small speaker of Taehyung’s phone. Tae had yet to make any comment, his frustration with Jimin apparently deflated from the reminder of the original purpose of the conversation about the producer. The two of them waited, holding very still when the clicking suddenly paused but Jimin didn’t come back. Tae shifted his legs from their crossed position to stretch them out and wiggle his toes and Namjoon continued to lean against him, staying as quiet as possible to not miss anything. Finally they hear a distorted buzz but the idol still didn’t say anything and Namjoon deflated, hoping this wouldn’t take too much longer. To pass the stretching time, he fiddled with the knobs on his MIDI controller, twisting one back and forth around the original position before moving on to another. The sharp sound of clicking filled the silence again and Namjoon couldn’t help but release a sigh, settling in to wait for a while.

They both startled when Jimin’s face finally popped back up on the screen, a big smile on his face. At least this time they hadn’t hit their heads together. “He’s cool with it.”

Namjoon smiled and gave a silent thumbs up, deciding to hold off on any other questions for now. He’d rather mentally prepare for presenting his stuff to a real producer. With a wave and a brief goodbye, he ducked out of Tae’s personal space and opened up a document on his laptop to begin a checklist. His creative high had definitely disappeared by this point but now was replaced with a simmering nervous energy as he typed out what he would want to bring tomorrow. Focus renewed, he didn’t even manage to acknowledge Tae as he left his room to wrap up his conversation with Jimin, only half hearing something about what they wanted to cover tomorrow but tuning out any more than that.

In his effort to make sure nothing would be accidentally left behind as he tended to do when packing, he didn’t register Tae’s sign off with Jimin. The next thing Namjoon picked up was the thundering footsteps towards him and looked up in time to see Tae mid-leap, throwing himself at the space he had just recently vacated. Namjoon quickly pulled his laptop and MIDI controller to his right so Tae couldn’t possibly break them but with his hasty movements meant his phone launched across the bed and at his dresser. All he could do was watch as the corner of his phone case smacked the front of a dresser drawer and land on the floor with a dull thunk. Tae bounced into the bed and Namjoon couldn’t even face him but he knew that his roommate was fully aware of the potentially destructive scene he’d just caused.

After a few beats of silence, he slowly turned towards his still frozen roommate, his frustration taking over his nerves. Tae refused to make eye contact as he looked to where the phone had landed. Eventually he hesitantly met Namjoon’s eyes and flinched because Tae may be many things - hyperactive, nosy, meddling, spoiled, air-headed, brilliant - but destructive was usually not an adjective attached to him.

“Go get it.” Namjoon demanded, not willing to look at the state of his phone, and Taehyung had the sense to not question him and rushed over to go pick up the phone. This phone had yet to sustain any damage to the screen, with the help of some heavy duty screen protectors, and Namjoon was not having his new record ruined from his best friend’s stupidity.

Tae cautiously and slowly turned over the phone, clearly just as worried that something may have happened. Namjoon almost felt the need to cover his eyes so as not to see the damage from the bed but his morbid curiosity kept his hands firmly planted on either side of his body, palms pushed against the mattress. When Tae had crouched with the phone for a good 15 seconds, Namjoon decided to clear his throat and snap him out of whatever daze he was in. His roommate finally clicked the power button to light up the lock screen. A triumphant smile spread across his face as he proudly showed off the phone.

“No cracks!” The air Namjoon had been subconsciously holding in released all at once like a popped balloon.

“You are incredibly lucky, you excuse of a friend.” He glared at Taehyung but there was no heat behind it, more relieved that he wouldn’t be replacing his phone yet. But Tae suddenly moved like he was going to chuck Namjoon’s phone at him, frowning, and Namjoon shielded his face in fear. Only seconds later Taehyung was full out laughing, making Namjoon glare at his roommate as he came back and sat next to Namjoon once more. He dropped the phone safely into the space between them. Namjoon could only manage to smack Tae’s arm in a half-hearted attempt at a silent reprimand as they sank back into a comfortable quiet.

“This is really happening.” Namjoon stared at the wall in front of him, photos of his family and friends, mostly Tae and Jin, covering a large portion of it. He lingered on the ones from his college graduation, the one of his parents grinning as he stood between them with his diploma proudly displayed. Next he looked at one of Jin, Tae, and himself all crowded in a photobooth making the most ridiculous faces they could, aegyo and just general silliness, from the time they had gone to the beach together. Namjoon remembered breaking his sunglasses thirty minutes into the road trip and neither of his friends would let him hold anything of value for the rest of the trip. He’d also almost lost his wallet and frantically had turned over the hotel room they’d stayed in only to find it sitting in his shoe. He was pretty sure Tae had done that just to get back at him for stealing his earbuds and then promptly losing them. He’d later found them in a pants pocket but only after they’d gone through the washing machine.

Tae nudged his shoulder and Namjoon looked at his friend, sure he was unable to hide the uncertainty he felt.

“Yup. You’re really meeting a producer tomorrow. You’re getting professional advice on your demo tomorrow. And I’ll be there with you. And Jimin too.” His small smile helped soothe some of the nerves that sat next to his uncertainty, the two trying to create a monster of anxiety. “You’ve got this. Wanna finish the song?”

A glance at the clock on his laptop read half past midnight but Namjoon couldn’t help but smile back. He looked back at the wall of photos, settling on two he’d recently added. A selfie of his closest friends and himself at karaoke, clearly in the middle of belting whatever song had been on, sat taped next to another from Jimin of the three of them, all crowded on the couch just out in the living room together laughing as Jimin gave the camera a less than impressed look.

“Yeah. Let’s do this.”