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#also for the music in my head the chorus hits right as that dog does
juniper-clan · 26 days
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MOON 20: Hier Kommt Die Sonne!
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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years
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⸺𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀 27: i should be over all the butterflies (finale)
i should be over all the butterflies | a chuuya x gn!reader smau
a/n: wow, so here's another smau coming to a close. this ended up being much longer than i thought it would be but it was entertaining to write until the very end. i hope you guys like the final chapter and please let me know what you think of it !!
also, i'm sure some of you have been curious about the title. well, it's actually based on the song 'still into you' by paramore. when i first listened to that song i kinda imagined vocalist!chuuya (it's because of the orange hair). if you like, give it a listen while reading this last chapter
ever since he first started performing with the mafia dogs, chuuya had never felt stage fright or even remotely anxious before singing onstage. he even surprised himself when he came to the realization that performing was just second-nature to him.
but god was he nervous now.
usually, he was the one who hyped up the crowd before playing but right now, chuuya busied himself with fiddling with the height of the mic stand as tachihara and dazai took on the role.
"hey everyone!" dazai yelled into the microphone. the crowd in front of the stage cheered in unison.
"you may know us as the mafia dogs," tachihara continued. "but right now, you can think of us as the newest members of the journalism club."
"yeah, we actually just sent our application forms earlier," dazai laughed, glancing sideways at chuuya with a look that expressed 'dude, your turn to say something.'
"so, uh," chuuya cleared his throat. "we're actually going to perform a new song."
the crowd cheered once again and that put a smile on his face. he scanned the people standing in the front row until his eyes landed on you. chuuya bit back a laugh at the matching mustard shirt and pants you were wearing that made it impossible for him to spot. right beside you was ranpo, in crutches but mostly leaning on oda for support.
chuuya took in a deep breath and calmed himself down. having akutagawa right next to him, who looked the happiest he's ever been as he fiddled with the buttons on his keytar, definitely helped.
"this song is actually dedicated to someone. well, two people," chuuya clarified after exchanging a look with dazai. "and, i hope our thoughts come across in this song."
chuuya nodded at dazai and akutagawa, feeling his breath swell in his chest as he began to sing.
"can't count the years in one hand that we've been together. i need the other one to hold you, make you feel, make you feel better"
the roar of the audience gave chuuya a surge of confidence and he grinned widely as he continued to sing. it was always a bit nerve-wracking performing a new song and hoping their fans would like it. after all, he and dazai just poured out their raw emotions into the lyrics and hoped for the best.
for a split-second, chuuya's eyes darted over to make you out in the front row of the crowd again. was that a grin on your face or was he just imagining things? chuuya tried not to let the anxiety grip him.
"because after all this time, i'm still into you"
but at the end of the day, chuuya knew he would "perish and die", in the words of dazai, if he never let you know how he felt.
"i should be over all the butterflies but i'm into you. and baby even on our worst nights, i'm into you."
chuuya could tell that everyone was getting into the song by the time the chorus hit. the audience was jumping up and down in unison to the beat. dazai was leaning into the microphone singing the back-up vocals. tachihara had a wide, gleeful grin on his face he played the drums. even akutagawa was bobbing his head up and down to the music.
seeing all of them getting into the song gave chuuya just a bit of courage to lock eyes with you in the crowd as he sang the next line that condense all of his feelings.
"yeah after all this time, i'm still into you."
...
as soon as the mafia dogs started playing the song, one of the first thoughts in your head was "damn, chuuya's pants look really tight" and then "damn, chuuya looks really good onstage."
you've known him practically your whole life and even though back then he demonstrated no inclination at all for being a band vocalist, it looked like chuuya was born to be one. on the one hand, you felt bad that you two weren't close for the past few years. you would have enjoyed watching their earlier band practices and showing up for his first gig or watching him brainstorm new songs.
but getting to know chuuya again, especially this side of him, wasn't so bad. he was your best friend after all. and thanks to that little introduction he made before singing the song, chuuya's intentions were now clear as day to you.
"let them wonder how we got this far 'cause i don't even need to wonder at all"
you weren't sure if he could make you out in front of the crowd all, even if your mustard ensemble, much less see the expression on your face. there were probably hundreds of students in the campus square all watching and cheering to the mafia dogs' new song. but maybe, just maybe--
and there.
chuuya unmistakably met your gaze in the crowd and you smiled broadly at him in return as he ended the first chorus.
"yeah after all this time, i'm still into you"
'jesus christ, chuuya,' you thought as you smiled to yourself. 'you could have just sent me a text.'
...
"just so we're clear... you do know the song is dedicated to you, right?" ranpo said.
"i'm not that fucking dumb," you scoffed, flicking him on the forehead. right after the talent show, the three of you gathered near a bench just outside your dorm building. the crowds were slowly starting to thin out as well.
"is it... safe to assume that," oda spoke slowly beside him. you laughed slightly at the apparent hesitancy in his voice. "the other person is... me?"
"oda, i'm proud of you," ranpo grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. as if on cue, a text notification from oda's phone rang.
"you should take that like, right now," you insisted.
"really?" oda looked between you and ranpo. "do you need help with--?"
"i'll make it up the stairs on my own," ranpo huffed. "i'm not that helpless you know."
"right," you rolled your eyes. "says the guy who--"
"uh, y/n?"
you turned around to see chuuya approaching the three of you with his hands in his pockets and his guitar in its case on his shoulder. ranpo pushed you slightly forward before hurrying back to the dorm building in his crutches. oda waved goodbye before heading off in the other direction, leaving you and chuuya.
"so."
"so."
"nice... outfit," chuuya nodded at your shirt and pants.
"well, i've always had a thing for monochrome," you laughed, placing your hands on your hips. "look at your outfit though. i mean, can you even breathe in those pants?"
"not going to lie, i almost passed out on stage," chuuya joked and the two of you laughed in unison. "so... what did you think about the song?"
"hmm," you cocked your head to the side. "i think that whoever that song is dedicated to must be very lucky."
"really? then does that mean--"
"ranpo would absolutely love to be your boyfriend. or tachihara's. or is it akutagawa?" you interrupted him. chuuya stared at you with his mouth open before you burst into laughter.
"you should have seen the look on your face!" you pointed teasingly. "like your mouth was all open and everything. i gotta say chuuya i really--"
before you could even finish your sentence, chuuya had wrapped a finger around one of the belt loops of your mustard pants, pulling you close and kissing you right on the lips. instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck and you felt both of chuuya's hands on your waist.
"you should see the look on your face," he whispered in a low voice as soon as you two parted. the smirk on his lips was enough to make you want to cover your face with your hands.
"i hate you chuuya," you whispered back much to his amusement.
"oh yeah, it sure seemed like you do." he flicked you on the forehead for good measure before walking off, leaving you to catch up to him.
"hey, hey. how did that song go again?" you asked, skipping next to chuuya. "i should be over all the butterflies... it's pretty catchy! you're gonna sing it for me again, right?"
"i literally just sang it for you."
"aw but i want one that's just for me. please chuuya?"
"...fine. maybe tomorrow."
a/n: and that is the end of the series! what happens to the characters next is all up to you guys (i do love an open ending for my fics). let me know what you all think and thank you for reading my series!
⸺𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉
@kiyoobi ​​​​ @atsumusdomain ​​​​ @laure-chan ​​​​ @goodfoodxoxoxo ​​​​ @guardianangelswings ​​​​ @kei-ya ​​​​ @loisuke ​​​​ @whootwhoot ​​​​ @liz-multifandom-hotel @kac-chowsballs ​​​​ @violentfarewll @fyoyacanruinmylifethanks ​ ​​​ @nightmare-light ​​​​ ​ @miyakiyo0mi ​​​​ @whorefordazai ​​​​ @rirk-ke ​​​​ @cross-crye ​​​ @alohablue @duhsies ​​​ @alittlesimp @tetsustation @https-inarizaki @himboos @magpiemissy @hanazou @monochromaticelliot
reblogs and comments are much appreciated
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IN LIFE, IN DEATH...
Part One
Luke Patterson x Fem!reader
Summary: All you wanted was to play the biggest gig of your life with your best friends, but you just might get more than you bargained for.
Warnings: death and some swearing (I don’t think there is anything else but if there is, let me know!)
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May 1994
“Shit.”
You whispered to yourself as you stared at the old clock on the diner’s wall.
It had only been half an hour since your shift started, but you were already anxious for it to be over.
Cece’s diner was normally one of your favorite places in the world. It was a small, poorly lit building in a boring part of L.A. It didn’t see much business since it wasn’t easy to find. But the air always smelled like fresh coffee and cinnamon.
You loved working there, but it was not where you wanted to be right now.
“You okay, (Y/n)?” A voice asked from behind the counter. You turned to see your boss Cece, a petite middle-aged woman who was eyeing the dirty table in front of you that you were supposed to be cleaning.
“Yeah, sorry. My mind is somewhere else.” You admitted, throwing the empty plates in the tray and carrying them to the kitchen.
Cece shook her head and let out a laugh as she followed. “On a certain guitarist, perhaps?”
Your cheeks flushed and Cece laughed again, grabbing the rag off her shoulder and smacking it against your arm lightly.
She was one of the few people who knew about your feelings for Luke Patterson. One of your best friends, childhood crush, and most recently, your bandmate.
“And for your information, I’m thinking about all of the band because we’re practicing tonight.”
“Uh-huh.” Cece hummed, a sly smile on her face.
She always pretended to be annoyed with your ramblings since you joined sunset curve, saying that a sixteen-year-old girl had no business being in a rock band. But you had caught her bragging about you to the few regulars you had multiple times.
She had a son living a few states away, but they weren’t close. So she treated you like her daughter. Which meant she wasn't the biggest fan of you constantly hanging around a bunch of teenage boys. But eventually, she warmed up to them. Especially Alex;  he was her favorite.
Luke, on the other hand, annoyed her to no end.
You ran the dishes under hot water and pressed a kiss to Cece’s cheek as you walked past her and back into the main room.
“Besides, Luke doesn’t like me like that.”
Cece rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak but the shrill ring of the phone cut her off. You let out a sigh, grateful for the distraction. She meant well, but when it came to your situation with Luke, you were more than happy to live in denial and ignoring it altogether.
He was your best friend. That’s all that mattered right now.
You shook the thoughts from your head and grabbed the phone’s receiver. “Cece’s Diner. How can I help you?”
“How much do you love me?”
Speak of the devil.
Your heart raced at the sound of Luke’s voice rang through your ears. His choice of words definitely not helping to calm you down. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself.
“Luke?” You asked which prompted Cece to raise an eyebrow from the other side of the room.
“Hey. I’m sorry for calling you at work but I can’t finish this song and it’s driving me nuts. I need you and your genius brain to come help me.”
Despite your protests, the tap dance in your chest continued. It was ridiculous that after knowing Luke all your life, you were still shocked when he complimented you like that.
“I don’t get off until six, but I’ll come after.” You said, trying not to smile when you heard him cheer in victory. “And before Reggie asks, yes, I’ll bring coffee.”
Luke laughed before singing into the phone. “Get me a large with extra whipped cream and cinnamon.”
“I hate you.” You sang back, making a mental note to wipe off the smirk you could practically hear in his voice before the line went dead. You sighed as you put the phone back on the hook, holding a finger out to Cece.
“Not a word.”
A few hours later, you walked into Bobby’s garage, carrying a cardboard tray in each arm.
You sighed as you looked around the room. Every surface was covered in discarded paper balls and empty fast-food wrappers. You had expected to hear some form of music or at least some talking but the room was dead silent.
In the center of the mess, Alex and Reggie sat on the floor. Alex was trying to balance his drumsticks on his nose, and Reggie was mindlessly strumming his bass. Luke was sitting back on the couch, his eyebrows tightly knitted together as he frantically scribbled into his notebook.
“Your savior is here, and I come bearing coffee.”
All three heads whipped in your direction and within seconds, Reggie was excitedly bouncing his way towards you. He reached out to swipe a cup from the tray in your left hand. You swatted his arm away.
"Not that one. That’s Al’s.”
You set the rest of the drinks on the table in front of you and walked up to Alex. You handed him the cup and he gave you an appreciative smile. You always made sure to get him hot chocolate or tea, since you learned the hard way that caffeine can sometimes make his anxiety worse. He told you he didn’t want to admit that to the guys. So you were happy covering for him.
“Why does he get his own special one?” Reggie pouted as he grabbed another cup and strolled over to Luke, plopping down next to him on the couch. “And why is she the only one who can call you ‘Al’?”
“Because I’m his favorite.” You said, poking Reggie’s cheek as you passed him and took the other seat on the couch next to Luke. Alex just nodded, trying to hold back a smile.
“I thought you didn’t get off for another hour.” Luke said, looking up from his songbook for the first time since you got there.
“Cece knew it was important band stuff so she let me off early.” You shrugged.
“Oh no, she’s not mad at me, is she?” Luke shivered, thinking of all the times Cece had chewed him out for being a ‘bad influence’ on you or made him wipe down some tables for accidentally making you late for a shift. “You know I can’t stand when that woman is mad at me.”
“I also know that all you have to do is give her your little puppy-dog look and she’ll instantly forgive you.”
“Yeah, you guys are alike that way.” Luke teased, sticking his bottom lip out and batting his eyes dramatically.
“Yeah, yeah. So, what have you got so far?” You said as you bumped his shoulder with yours. He grinned and started translating his messy handwriting for all of you.
The four of you sat there for an hour putting all the words in the right places and by the time Bobby got there, you all felt confident that it was finally finished. You took your place behind your microphone and nodded.
“Okay, Al. Count us down.”
Alex twirled his drumsticks. “1…2…3…4!”
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June, 1995
“Don’t look down.”
You couldn’t help but smile as you sang the song you had written a year ago. Your feet bouncing on the stage, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead.
To your left, Luke raised his arms, trying to hype up the non-existent crowd. Alex clashed his drumsticks together to the beat as all your voices came together.
“Cause we’re still rising up right now.”
You clapped along to the song, the energy coursing through your veins. Luke was in the middle of throwing his guitar behind his back. You rolled your eyes at him and he flashed you a small bashful smile before turning his head.
Your heart fluttered but you forced yourself to turn the other way, singing with Reggie just as the song transferred out of the bridge. The fog machines cued the ending chorus and you gripped your microphone with both hands.
“And even if we hit the ground, we’ll still fly.
Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever.
But living like it’s now or never.“
The other boy's voices dropped out until it was just you and Luke singing the chorus. You looked over at him, but his eyes were glued to the front of the room. Normally, you would share a mic for this part or at least stand close together, but he seemed determined to avoid you.
Just like he had been for the last six months.
You ignored the gaping pit in your stomach and poured all your focus into the song.
“Like it’s now or never!
It’s now or never!“
The final riff sounded and you let out an exhausted but proud sigh. There were a few scattered claps from the staff in the venue. But a curly-haired girl behind the counter was cheering especially loud. Reggie winked at her and leaned into his mic.
“Thank you! We’re Sunset Curve. Tell your friends.”
You rolled your eyes at him and pulled his arm, dragging him to the center of the stage. Alex came from his drum set and you gave him a high five.
“Al, you were amazing!”
“Yeah, dude, you were smoking.” Reggie agreed.
Alex blushed. “Nah, man. I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire.”
Reggie rolled his eyes. “Can you just own your awesomeness for once?”
Bobby and Luke nodded in agreement and you raised your eyebrows at Alex, nudging him until he finally smiled. “Okay, I was killing it!”
“I’m thinking we should fuel up before the show. Street dogs?” Luke asked. Alex and Reggie hummed in agreement but you wrinkled your nose.
“I think I’m gonna pass.” You said, jumping off the stage. It wasn’t that you had anything against street dogs, but as far as pre-gig activities go, it didn’t make your top ten list. 
Bobby landed next to you and started jogging towards the counter. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and approached the girl wiping tables.
“Oh no.” You said. “Bobby, leave that poor girl alone.”
Bobby turned around just enough to give you a glare as you both reached the counter. The rest of the boys weren’t far behind. You felt Luke slip behind you and throw an arm on Bobby’s shoulder.
Bobby told the girl some line about being a vegetarian. But she shook it off, looking over all of you.
“You guys are really good.”
You smiled proudly. “Thank you.”
She returned your smile. “I’ve seen a lot of bands. Even been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.”
Luke was practically beaming. The whole band contributed with the songs, of course, but you and Luke were the main writers, so it was always nice to hear people compliment your words. “That’s what we do this for. I’m Luke, by the way.”
“Hey, I’m Reggie.”
“Alex.”
“Bobby.”
“And I’m (Y/n).”
“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Rose.” She said, turning to you. “You have a great voice, by the way. It’s always cool to see a girl lead vocalist.”
Bobby snorted. You elbowed him and Luke gave him a wet-willy. “Oh, thank you. But I’m just co-lead.”
She opened her mouth to say something else but Reggie reached in his back pocket and pulled out a C.D and a t-shirt, handing them to her. “Here’s our demo, and a T-shirt, size beautiful.”
As if on cue, you and Alex rolled your eyes. You sent Rose an apologetic look as she held the shirt up to her body.
“Thanks, I’ll try not to wipe down the tables with this one.”
Alex nodded. “Good call! When they get wet, they kind of fall apart in your hands.”
Bobby glared at all of you. “Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?”
Luke pushed Bobby back and leaned on the counter with both arms. “Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.”
The boys started going towards the exit but stopped when Alex noticed you hesitating. “You coming?”
You really didn’t want hotdogs, but you also didn’t want to stay and listen to Bobby attempt to flirt with Rose. So you nodded and followed Alex to the door.
“Hey, (Y/n)!” Rose called out and you turned around. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
You gave her a warm smile before walking out into the alley. The night air hit your skin and you shivered slightly. It wasn’t cold, but it was definitely a change from the sweaty stage. You wrapped your jacket around your shoulders.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Luke whooped as he jumped through the doors and into the alleyway.
Alex gestured around, wrinkling his nose. “The smell of Sunset Boulevard?”
Luke shoved his shoulder. “No.”
You jumped out of the way as Luke splashed in a puddle. “It’s what that girl said in there. About our music.”
His eyes flickered to you when he said ‘our’ but quickly looked away. It was practically the first time he had acknowledged your presence all night.
“It connects us with people, you know? They can feel us when we play.” He said excitedly, slowing his walking until the rest of you caught up with him.
He reached each arm up and pulled Reggie to his side with one arm and despite being right next to you, he pulled Alex to his other side. You turned your head forward to hide the confused look on your face but you knew Alex saw it.
Other than Cece, he was the only person who knew about your feelings for Luke. You could tell from the look on his face that he was just as confused with Luke’s recent behavior as you were, but he didn’t say anything.
“I want that connection with everybody.”
“Then we’re gonna need more T-shirts.” You heard Reggie say as you reached the end of the alley. You pulled up the hood of your jacket and turned your head away from the line in front of the venue.
You didn't mean to walk so fast, but you were the first one at the alleyway a few blocks away from the Orpheum. You made your hotdog and made small talk with the vendor for a few minutes before the guys caught up.
“You trying to ditch us, (Y/n)?” Reggie asked, putting ingredients on his hotdog.
“Not my fault you guys are slow.” You stuck your tongue at him and he squinted at you. Alex groaned. You looked over at him to see him trying to put a pickle on his tray.
“Man, I can’t wait until the day we can eat someplace where the condiments aren’t served out of the back of an Oldsmobile.”
As he apologized to the vendor for getting pickle juice on his battery cables, you, Luke, and Reggie made your way to one of the old couches. They both sat down, leaving one open space next to Luke.
You made a point of sitting on the arm of the couch, letting your feet dangle on the seat. If Luke was going to avoid you, then you were going to avoid him right back. You also avoided the questioning look Reggie gave you before Alex sat down.
Luke didn’t seem to notice. He was bouncing his leg and couldn’t seem to stop smiling, it was obvious that he was still buzzing with energy from the soundcheck.
“This is awesome, you guys.” He said as he made himself comfortable between Reggie and Alex. “We’re playing the Orpheum! Do you know how many bands that played here ended up being huge?”
You rolled your eyes and smiled while the boys chuckled. You were all used to seeing the intense side of Luke, but he had been an even bigger ball of excited energy ever since you booked the Orpheum gig. It could be a little much for the guys sometimes, but the way his eyes lit up when he talked about music never failed to make you smile.
“I’m serious.” Luke insisted as he leaned forward and raised his hotdog in a toast. “Eat up, guys. Because after tonight, everything changes.”
You all toasted and then started to eat. Usually, street dogs weren’t half bad. But this time there was a burnt, nasty flavor that made it hard to swallow. Alex saw your face and nodded in agreement.
Even Luke, who had a super-human stomach, made a face. But his hunger must’ve won out cause he took another big bite.
“That’s a new flavor.” Alex said with his mouth full.
“Relax, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” Reggie told him as he took another bite. You still didn’t feel one hundred percent confident about it but you shrugged and kept eating.
It all happened so fast.
At first, it felt like you were dreaming. Like maybe you had just fallen asleep and would eventually wake up and realize that everything was just a nightmare.
But then the outline of Los Angeles floated away in a haze of grey and you were left in the dark. There was nothing but silence until you heard a voice somewhere in front of you.
It was the sound of Alex’s frantic ranting.
You could feel Reggie and Luke next to you, but they didn’t say anything. You didn’t either.
But you didn’t really need to. It was glaringly obvious what happened, you could feel it in your bones.
You were dead.
Alex’s ranting slowly turned into crying, which made you cry. Luke heard your quiet sniffles and for the first time in months, he touched you.
He reached out and intertwined your fingers loosely in his, gently swiping his thumb across your knuckles. You closed your eyes, trying to soak up the feeling. This was the closest to him you had been in since that night in the studio.
It seemed like so long ago, but at the same time, it was all too familiar. You knew that if you stayed in this moment with him any longer, you would fall apart completely.
So you turned away from him and buried your head in Alex’s shoulder. It seemed like hours passed before the silence was broken and the opening of Now or Never filled the air.
“Is that…?” You started, but before you could finish, the floor disappeared from under you.
You hit the ground with a painful groan and blinked at the sudden flood of bright light. You felt movement next to you and saw Reggie struggling to get up.
You hauled yourself up and turned around to realize you were back in Bobby’s garage. It looked so different that you almost didn’t recognize it. There was a new grand piano and flowers on every table. The room was free of any trash or discarded flannels.
But the biggest change by far, was the girl standing in front of you.
She was about your age with brown hair tied in a ponytail, in a bright yellow shirt, and furry slippers. She was staring at the four of you with wide eyes and a terrified look on her face.
“How did we get back here?” Luke said as he scanned the studio.
The girl screamed, which made the boys scream and cling to each other. Reggie threw himself against Luke and pulled you behind him.
They all screamed for a few more seconds before the girl ran out of the garage doors. You cautiously walked out from behind Reggie and towards the middle of the room, spinning in a full circle.
The boys started talking but you were still mesmerized by all the changes made to the studio.
You looked up towards the ceiling and saw that there were chairs hanging by the loft and countless tiny plants by the windows but you could still see the nail polish-stain you had made on the carpet and the dents in the beams from all the times Luke had messed up his guitar throw.
Carefully, you reached towards the piano and tried to touch a vase of flowers but they passed right through your fingers. Your entire hand went numb then a tingly feeling spread throughout your body.
Well, two things were for sure.
You were definitely back, but you were definitely dead.
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fyeah-bangtan7 · 3 years
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V: “I have a desire to perfect one cool thing about myself”
As he’s being interviewed, V speaks his mind at a relaxed pace. But there was one moment where he kept on speaking without taking a breath. Look for that moment in the interview below. You listen to a lot of old music on vinyl. Has any particular artist’s music excited you since your last interview with Weverse Magazine? V: I was listening to Louis Armstrong’s music again. And I picked up some albums with a pretty jacket that’s also got a lot of really good hits on it.
How do you feel when you’re listening to those classics? V: I feel like I’m beginning to relax a bit. If I listen to a song when I’m feeling depressed and then really get thinking, the things that are frustrating me disappear, and I can feel myself becoming more peaceful. And it makes me picture things in my head. For example, some songs might make me think of seeing something in front of me while walking down the road somewhere at night when I listen to them. I think setting the mood for listeners is the most important thing. The mood will presumably be different for everyone, but for me, those songs are the ones that are good at setting a really beautiful mood in the moment.
You said that you got inspiration from artists of the past like Sammy Davis Jr. for your performance in “Dynamite.” Was there any artist who inspired you for “Butter”? V: Well, there was Billy Joel. When I shoot a music video, I think of a movie more than any one artist. And when I perform on stage, for some songs I think of the way movies like Reservoir Dogs look. For “Butter,” I watched a lot of teen movies. And musicals. After that I randomly ended up seeing a video on YouTube of some scenes from an old teen movie Johnny Depp did [which turned out to be the movie Cry-Baby]. The image I got from that was really intense. That’s the look I used in “Butter.”
“Butter” felt like a teen musical to me and now I know why. V: I did it like a teen musical, just like you say. When we shot the “Butter” music video, I really, really tried to shoot the part in the elevator so it would feel like a teen movie. Although a lot of takes were edited, so not all of it’s there. (laughs)
What kind of feeling do you get from that kind of teen movie that you find so charming? V: For me, teen movies show a youthfulness that’s appropriate for the age. I think there’s an appropriate mix of emotion, energy, and a completely different and peculiar mood that everyone necessarily experiences at that age. If you watch teen movies, they’re overflowing with energy and full of sunny emotion, but behind it all they’re not as bright as they seem. They are really bright, but the color itself almost feels like some kind of filter. They feel like they have a different filter than other movies, so I tried thinking of teen movies when we shot the music video and put on performances.
That teen movie feeling seems to be divided in two between “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” By the looks of the thumbnails for the fancam focus videos uploaded to the BANGTANTV YouTube channel, “Butter” seems to showcase a really cool character, while “Permission to Dance” is more teenagers smiling brightly for children. V: The teen movie vibe in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” are different from one another. We showed the sunny image people usually think of when they think of teen movies in “Permission to Dance.”
Do you think that going with the teen movie vibe influenced your vocals to be the new style that you used? In “Butter,” you still had your signature vocals but without the deep notes, giving them a new feeling. V: That’s because, when we’re given a concept, we have to come up with vocals that fit with the concept. I think my singing style matched up with the concept, so I feel relatively satisfied. There was nothing majorly difficult about actually changing the style itself, since unlike changing your voice, you only have to change your vocal technique. Having said that, even though the notes in “Butter” were high for me, I still hit them! (laughs)
I guess hitting the high notes was your assignment this time around as a vocalist. V: I’ve been working a long time to make up for my weak points. For example, I thought I was weak when it comes to high notes because I sing low parts a lot and I tend to sing in a flowing way. But I had trouble when we were recording “Dynamite” and I had to sing the high notes during the chorus. I got so mad (laughs) so I practiced a lot.
How does it feel to see the results you’re seeing with “Butter” now after all that effort? V: I’m just trying not to rest on my laurels. Like instead of savoring the feeling, I feel like I should go to bed early for everything I have to do the next day? Getting back in tiptop shape quickly is what’s important, so I haven’t really had time to bask in the joy very much. I’m just working hard at the work I had like I always do.In your 
New Year’s greeting on YouTube, you said you regretted not being able to put on the show for ARMY you wanted, and that your 2021 resolution is to “follow my own pace and pattern” when you work on music. Do you think your personal pace and your professional pace are in step this year? V: No. [My professional pace is] fast, so fast. (laughs) We have a lot we have to get ready for since we’re always promoting. It can be challenging sometimes, but in a way, I think it’s also given me a good opportunity to become a little stronger.
I imagine it’s meaningful to do the work for your own songs, because you can slip into your own world. You also made “Blue & Grey” when you were having a hard time, and it consequently became a song that allowed you to empathize with many people and vice versa. Looking back now, what kind of song do you think “Blue & Grey” will be remembered as? V: I think with “Blue & Grey” I just wanted the song to let people know how I was feeling, and how we were feeling, at that time a little better. Obviously everyone was having a hard time, but I think I wanted to share those emotions with ARMY as-is, including the pains we went through in our growth process. And, to put it another way, I think I just felt like making it obvious. (laughs) I thought it was okay to be that obvious, seeing as I couldn’t put those feelings into words. I just hope people could understand how I was feeling; it’s okay if it becomes forgotten later on.
In the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, you talked about the first line of “Blue & Grey”: “Where is my angel?” You explained how, when you have any kind of issue, you close your eyes and wish for your angel to come and think. Are there times when it seems like your angel understands your feelings, as you just mentioned? V: I get a ton of answers by doing it. I’m not religious, but whenever I have some kind of issue, I close my eyes and think about it. Is this right, the way I’m thinking about this, or not? They’re just yes or no questions, like, Does my outfit look good today? Instead of just worrying about what you should do, if you tackle it in the form of a question, you  get a response with the answer.
I guess it could work when you’re looking for inspiration in your life, but what about for your music? In your previous Weverse Magazine interview, you said you make a note whenever you feel something. V: I write in my diary in hopes that it’ll help with writing lyrics and so I don’t forget those feelings. I do it constantly—I open up my diary whenever something comes up. I copy melodies that pop up in my mind, lyrics, and other things from my diary to my notes app temporarily, and when I’m taking a break or I get the urge to work, I open my notes and say, Let’s try this out today, and run over to the studio.
You released “Snow Flower,” featuring Peakboy by V, on Christmas Day. Is that another song you ran to the studio to work on after the feeling came to you? V: For that song, when I was drinking with some older musicians, we were talking about doing a song together, and then we were like, Well, do you think we’ll have time to do that? So we decided to do it right then since everyone was available. My mixtape was delayed, so I at least wanted to play a different song for ARMY, and I thought, since I’m a bit tipsy (laughs) I thought I should try writing something. So I made the song really quickly. In maybe three hours.
Even though you made it quickly, the composition is somewhat complex and it has the same unique atmosphere that “Blue & Grey” did. V: There’s times when I’m, like, in the zone (laughs) and can make a song all in one sitting, but when I’m not feeling it, I end up revising it more and more. And I don’t want the composition to be too obvious, so I try to change up the way the melody flows. With that kind of sharp image coming to you almost immediately, what were you imagining for that song? V: You might think “Snow Flower” is about a type of snowflake, but I was actually thinking about snow and flowers separately. I started hoping that flowers wouldn’t wither away and just keep on blooming on snowy days. But in reality, when it snowed, all the flowers were crushed, the world became blanketed in snow, and I felt like the flower buds turned into snow flowers. I wrote that song about how I felt after watching that happen.
It must be important to feel things intuitively when you’re trying to express yourself through song. V: If it sounds pretty to me: approved. (laughs)
On the other hand, as a member of BTS, you have a job where you have to deal with a packed schedule and keep various situations in mind. How does that make you feel? When you celebrated your Billboard Hot 100 win on V LIVE and the topic of your clothes came up, you joked that you wore them to give off an idol vibe. V: It’s fun. It’s fun, but I could also say it’s hard. The performances are fun. I think idols should shine in a way that’s suitable for their age, and it’s important to do lots of things for fans like ARMY. Not just performances, but also posting pictures, having conversations on social media, making content. We’re artists and idols, so we think each and every one of those things is important. That sentiment won’t change just because we’ve achieved so much success.
You recently held an impromptu event on Weverse for ARMY. V: I’m sure there’s lots of ARMY out there who are tired of not being able to see us in person. But since the only thing we can do for them is to be on stage and stuff, I was worried that we’re not doing enough for them. And I love being able to talk with ARMY so much that now it’s like a habit that I read their posts. I have a thing today. I have a test today. I’m moving today. Somehow I feel better when I hear their stories. When I end up reading things like about how ARMY are living or what kind of lives ARMY have, I can’t help but write a response, and because of that ARMY respond, so I try to become friendlier in a more fun way, too. I want us to be more than the Billboard number one Bangtanies—I want to be ARMY’s partner, their best friend, the friend who’s always by their side when we’re not on stage. It feels like business when I talk about communicating with ARMY. (laughs) I just want to talk with a close friend. I wanna talk with a close friend—that’s exactly how I feel. It’s been a long time since I could see my friend, ARMY. Usually when friends can’t see each other they keep in touch all the time. I can talk about all kinds of things like that with ARMY thanks to the Weverse platform, and because I can hear all about their lives, I think I was able to go on Weverse and hold that kind of event.
You’ve been talking about ARMY nonstop for a few minutes. I was going to ask you how you feel about ARMY, but I think you already answered the question. (laughs) V: They’re just, well, friends I would hate to lose. Friends who seriously give me strength whenever they’re around. Sometimes you find friends like that in life. It’s like that with the other members, and I have other friends who I can share my feelings with. And I have ARMY. So I can’t help but do whatever I can do to make those people smile and make them feel happy.
Well then, is there a song you’ve heard that you want to let ARMY know about? A song that shares your feelings. V: Umm, recently … “No. 1 Party Anthem” by Arctic Monkeys. When I hear that song … I get emotional, somehow. I don’t usually listen to a lot of rock music, but I can instantly feel the band’s emotions with that song. I seriously get goosebumps listening to it, and emotional, and just all kinds of feelings. It’s to the point that, as soon as I hear that song, I think about how I really want to live well.
That song really means a lot to you. V: Actually, I don’t really know what’s up with that song. I don’t even know the lyrics, but I’m quite clear on what sort of emotions the melody and the band’s performance give me.
Don’t you feel like that’s an emotion you want to express to people, as an artist? Like you don’t have to explain your messages in detail? V: I don’t know. I just want to exchange the good, and be the one to embrace the bad. So I have a desire to perfect one cool thing about myself.
So how close do you think you are right now to becoming an artist who has perfected something cool? V: I’ll say 2%. It’ll go up someday later. (laughs)
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littlemissaddict · 3 years
Text
Brother’s Best Friend - Luke x Reader
You can read Part 1 here
Part 2
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They find Reggie and Alex over by the basketball game. Neither her or Luke are surprised to find them there as they know how much Reggie’s obsessed with them and he’s always determined to beat Alex, who as she found out on her last trip to the arcade with them, was ridiculously good at it. 
As they got closer she saw the knowing look that they shared when they spotted hers and Luke’s clasped hands between the two of them. Rolling her eyes, she turned to Luke who was already watching her.
“You having a go?” he questions, tilting his head in the direction of the game the two other boys were in the middle of.
“I don’t think so unless you want to see me make a fool of myself” she laughs, shaking her head and hearing Reggie agree.
“I don’t think that’s possible, why don’t you show me what you’ve got and maybe I can help?” he suggests, giving her the puppy dog eyes that he knows fine well no one can refuse.
“Very well Patterson but I’m going to prove you wrong” she mutters, stepping forward to place the coins into the machine, “and after I do I get to choose a game for you” she taunts, sparing a glance at him before the game starts. It also pulls some snickers from the other boys as they know exactly what game she is going to choose. 
The game comes to life and she reaches for a ball, throwing it and surprising herself that she actually manages to get it through a hoop as Luke cheers from beside her. Although that doesn’t last long as she misses the next one and the next until the game ends and when she’s done she only manages to get a total of three balls through the hoops. Letting out a deep breath she turns to Luke ready to tell him ‘I told you so’ but he speaks before she gets the chance.
“Okay so maybe you were right” he smiles, sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, "although I do believe I promised to help" he recalls, his demeanor completely changing as a teasing smile works its way onto his face. 
He moves to stand behind her, his right hand sliding down her arm causing her eyes to widen before she bursts out laughing as she realises what he's doing. "Oh my god, you're an idiot" she says between laughs as he tries to pout at her but soon he's laughing as well.
"What, it's the best way to help" he defends.
"Don't listen to him y/n, it's actually a poor attempt at flirting" Alex quips as he and Reggie laugh at Luke's attempt at a glare as he tries to shoo them away. 
When he turns back to her there's a very faint blush on his cheeks that she wouldn't have been able to tell was there if she wasn’t so close to him.
"I hate them sometimes" he mumbles, shaking his head but a chuckle escapes his mouth, "now where were we" he smiles, making her giggle.
"I do believe you were about to help me win this game" she jokes, playing along as she turns to pick up one of the basketballs. 
She waits for Luke's instructions as he takes his position behind her again, as he speaks his breath tickles her neck causing her to shiver as his right hand comes to rest over hers again.
After a couple of throws she seems to be getting the hang of it so Luke drops his arms from where he's helping her and settles them around her waist instead. He drops his head so that his chin is resting on her shoulder as he practically clings onto her like a koala, the thought makes her lose focus for a few shots as she tries to hold back her laughs and when she recovers enough to carry on she only gets a few more throws before the game ends.
“Well that was definitely better than last time” she says as they both look at the scoreboard, a smile lights up her face when she sees that her score has pretty much tripled.
She turns to thank Luke, only she misjudges how close he is to her and her lips brush against his cheek instead. She pulls back quickly but not before she feels Luke tense around her causing her to panic as she pulls herself out of his grasp and clears her throat.
“Well come on then” she says quickly, walking away and not sparing a glance backwards at the boy which gives her a few seconds to recover from whatever moment she just ruined between them. Luke’s quick to ask where they’re going when he catches up as she comes to a halt just a few steps away from the game she has planned for him. “Well I played your game even though I was terrible at it” she starts and Luke cuts her off.
“Yeah but then you totally rocked it”
“True but the deal was I prove to you how bad I was and then I get to pick a game for you so this is it” she says innocently, looking up at him through her lashes as she motions to the dance game on her right as Luke lets out a groan. 
He surprises her though by taking his position on the platform without complaint as she didn't think he’d do it because she very clearly remembers Reggie telling her that it's the one game in the arcade that Luke will not play.
"You're joining me right" he asks, a hopeful look on his face.
"Well I didn’t want to distract you but I guess I can play as well" she teases, sending a wink his way before stepping onto the platform as well as she begins to scroll through the list of songs, "You ready?" She asks and when he nods she presses play as the music begins.
It starts off easy and she chances a glance at Luke who seems to be nodding along with the music, clearly thinking that this is going to be easier than he thought until the chorus begins. That's when the more complicated steps come in that y/n is pleased to say that she hits with ease, Luke on the other hand is beginning to realise that he got too cocky in his ability. 
“This is ridiculous” he pants from beside her.
“No this is entertaining” Alex’s voice comes from behind them as Reggie makes his agreement known.
The sudden appearance of his friends causes Luke to miss the next few steps and he curses under his breath as he tries to catch up but luckily for him the song is almost finished. When it does he turns round to face the two boys and seeing the amusement on their faces he glares at them,
“And this is why I don’t play”
“Nah, I wouldn’t worry you didn’t do too bad” she reassures him after taking a look at his score. She smiles when he turns to face her with a matching smile on his face, “besides you look adorable when you’re concentrating” she teases, taking a step closer to him in an effort to fluster him just like he had done that morning in the kitchen only it backfires when he drops his hands to her waist and pulls her into him.
“But not as adorable as you” he counters, as the sounds of fake gagging come from behind them. Y/n laughs burying her face into Luke’s neck as Luke turns on his friends, “hey, you two where the ones that wanted this” he points out, laughing at their antics.
“Yeah but we didn’t expect to have to witness all this mushy affection” Alex states.
“Well I’ll remember that next time you and Willie start” Luke says, causing Alex to flush and that’s when y/n decides to save Alex from anymore embarrassment by suggesting a little competition, knowing that the boys wouldn’t be able to resist. 
“Okay three games, we split into teams of two” she starts laying down the rules and she feels Luke pull her into his side when she says teams of two, “and losers buy the winners choice of takeout for dinner” she finishes as the three boys nod in agreement. 
The first round consists of y/n vs Alex dance off which she wins but only just. The next round Luke goes against Reggie in the basketball game and loses tremendously which he sulks about. For the final round they decide on the claw machine.
“You sure you want to play that, those machines are practically set up so that you fail” Luke inquires, his arms crossed over his chest as he eyes the game suspiciously.
“One hundred percent and as Reggie knows, I am yet to lose this game” she smiles proudly, glancing over at her brother who is poised and ready to play.
They watch as the machine comes to life as Reggie carefully grips the controller and begins to maneuver the claw. He drops it down and then lets out a cheer as it comes up holding a red plush bear but the triumph is short lived as it drops just short of the opening which makes Reggie let out a shout of frustration as he steps to the side to allow y/n to take her place.
“Hey Luke, pick one” she said, feeling a little bit cocky now that she had seen her brother fail but when he didn’t answer she tried again, “pick one for me” she nodded, hoping she could actually deliver after all this.
“Um, that one, the penguin” he hummed, pointing to the back and white plushie in the centre of the machine.
Okay not too bad, she thought, it wasn’t too far away from the opening that she wouldn’t make it but it also wasn’t too close to the opening that she could be accused of cheating. Letting out a breath she slid the coin into the machine and guided the claw so it was directly above the plushie, dropping it down and hearing Luke cheer as it picked up the one he pointed out. Once it was back up she began to move it back towards the opening but just before she could press the release button the plushie dropped from the claw and she watched knowing there was nothing she could do now. Watching as it fell almost as if it was in slow motion as it landed on the edge of the plastic surrounding the opening. Luck seemed to be on her side as instead of tipping over back into the pile of stuffed animals it fell straight down into the opening ready to be collected.
The cheer that Luke let out was almost deafening, definitely earning them a couple of dirty looks from others in the arcade, and when he spun her around she knew them must look ridiculous but it was nothing compared to the comical looks of defeat on Reggie and Alex’s faces.
“That was just a lucky shot,” Reggie grumbled.
“No, that was a winning shot” Luke corrected as he reached down to get the penguin plushie and presented it to her as if he was presenting an award. He followed it with a kiss to her cheek which had her breath catching in her throat at the feeling of his lips against her skin and she realised that's how it must have felt earlier when she accidentally did it to him. 
“Anyway” Reggie started, pulling her and Luke out of their little moment, “I don’t know why you’re so happy the takeouts coming out of the money mom and dad left so technically you’re paying for it too” he pointed out but not even that could dampen her mood.
“I don’t know, I think I’ve got a lot of things to be happy about” she remarks, gaze drifting from her brother to Alex to the plushie in her arms and finally stopping on Luke, who smiled at her as he draped his arm over her shoulder, “now let's go and get some food, I’m starving” she announces, making the boys chuckle as they make their way back home.
----
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anthonyjlockwood · 3 years
Note
running fingers through hair + Alex/Luke/Willie 💜
thank you for the prompt, anon!! 💜
here it is on ao3!!
Luke is having a terrible, terrible day.
He doesn’t really know why it’s been so bad, either. But it started off with yet another fight with his parents at breakfast, and then he’d forgotten his song book at the house and had to go back for it, which led to another argument about why he was “wasting away his Saturday playing with that band of his.”
On his bike ride over to the studio, it started to rain, and the cutoff tank he was wearing was decidedly not waterproof, so halfway through the quarter-mile ride, he was drenched.
He just wants to forget about his parents, and the rain, and play music with his friends.
But even that idea is soured when he walks into the studio. Willie’s there alone; it doesn’t look like Alex, Bobby or Reggie have arrived yet.
Luke stops in the doorway once he sees Willie, suddenly feeling very hot despite the cold rain that’s making his shoulders shake.
He doesn’t like to use the word “jealous”, ever. He also doesn’t like to use the word “avoiding”. But over the past few weeks-- months, really, if Luke’s honest about it-- he’s gotten this really strange feeling in his stomach when he’s around Willie.  And when it’s Willie and Alex together, that’s almost worse.
He’s not sure if it’s the whole “third wheel” concept that bothers him; he doesn’t think so, because Reggie and Bobby have been together for months, too, and it’s never bothered Luke to be around them.
But being around Willie and Alex together is… strange.  It almost feels like Luke’s missing something, or missing out on something. Like when he forgets his favorite hot dog topping combo and only realizes once he starts eating that while the food is still good, it's not right.
Luke shakes off any awkwardness along with the last drops of rain, and throws Willie a smile that he hopes looks effortless.
“Hey.”
Willie looks up at his voice and smiles back immediately. He’s one of those people who just can’t not smile, and his happiness is like an airborne case of the measles. Luke catches it like a frisbee and can’t help throwing it back.
Something inside him relaxes a little, despite the lingering stress of the fight and the tension of the cold. His muscles ease with a shiver. “Where is everyone?”
“Alex and Reggie are inside with Ray, helping him set up the new T.V. he bought. Bobby’s not here yet… He said he’s gonna be late,” he lowers his voice to a whisper. “I think he and Reggie had a fight or something.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around,” Luke sighs.
Willie gives him an understanding smile. “Emily again?”
When Luke doesn’t respond, he tries again. “Why don’t you come sit?”
This, at least, Luke can do; he doesn’t want to talk about his terrible day and the terrible things he and his mom said to each other. But he finds that he does want to sit next to Willie, and let his friend’s positive, easygoing nature cover him up like an umbrella, shielding him from the negative thoughts running through his head.
He walks over to the couch, kicks off his shoes, and collapses on it dramatically.
Willie doesn’t indulge his theatrics, though. He just shuffles closer to Luke on the couch and says, “Y’know, I snuck out to come here. Caleb didn’t want me leaving the house.”
Willie’s uncle Caleb-- his legal guardian-- was a buzzkill on a good day. On worse days, he’d try to hold Willie hostage in his room… Luke didn’t know if it was a control thing, or what, but if Willie had to sneak out for this, he knows it must not have been a good day.
“Caleb’s been acting really weird lately,” he goes on.
If there’s one thing Luke can say about Willie, it’s that he has a knack for filling silences. He knows when other people around him are feeling uncomfortable, or if they just don’t want to talk at all, and he fills in the silence effortlessly.
Luke’s no introvert, really, but on his bad days when his mind is in the neutral gear and no matter how hard he hits the gas, he doesn’t go anywhere… sometimes he likes it when Willie takes over the driver’s seat.
“What’d he do?”
“He just… he’s so… controlling,” Willie says at length. “Needs to know where I am all the time, who I’m with. He asked me if I’m dating anyone new.”
Willie turns his head away to roll his eyes, but Luke notices. He’s heard about Caleb’s problems with Willie’s dating life-- all the questions, second-guessing Willie’s choices…
“And then, this morning, he asked me if I’ve ever thought about getting a haircut!” Willie complains. “Like, what the hell is that?! Could you even picture me with shorter hair?!”
The image of Willie with short hair has Luke laughing before he can stop himself. He claps his hand over his mouth-- Willie’s complaining about Caleb; the last thing he needs is to think Luke’s laughing at him-- but Willie sees anyway, and groans.
“This is not funny!”
Luke snickers. “Sorry, Rapunzel.”
Before he can realize what he’s doing, he leans forward.
Willie stiffens at his approach, but he doesn’t shy away as Luke gently brushes a hand through his hair.  It feels soft and smooth under his fingertips, like a blanket. He relaxes under Luke’s touch and closes his eyes, going still as a statue.
Holy shit, Luke thinks. I’m petting my best friend’s boyfriend’s hair. What the--
He yanks his hand back, and the movement causes Willie to startle slightly. He looks up at Luke with wide, worried eyes. “What happened?! Is there a bug on me?!”
“N--no,” Luke chokes out. “It’s just… sorry. It’s just your hair.”
He lets out a low, awkward laugh and just prays for the moment to end, for the embarrassment to just see itself out like the unwanted party guest that it was.
But then Willie joins in on the laughter, and the sound fills up the room-- and Luke’s heart-- with a comfortable warmth that overshadows any regret that might’ve been there before. When their laughter finally fades out into silence, Luke misses it immediately.  He isn’t sure why he’s feeling this way; usually, losing his mind over how cute Willie was is Alex’s jam. And it’s not like Luke hasn’t appreciated Willie for all that he is-- he’s just looked from a distance. Up until now, he’s been like one of those peacocks at the zoo, something that’s okay to admire from afar but impossible to touch, impossible to get close to.
“Willie--”
Alex chooses that moment to come back into the room, grimace on his face as he quietly shuts the door behind him.
“So… it doesn’t look like we’re having band practice today.”
“What? Why?!” Luke needs music like he needs air; especially right now, when all he wants is a distraction from these thoughts about Willie. Off-limits, his-best-friend’s-partner Willie, whose soft hair and easy grin are still taking up way too much space in his mind.
Playing music’s supposed to fix that, just like it has fixed every other thing that’s gone wrong in Luke’s life recently. Losing himself in his songs is the only surefire way that he knows to not think about his problems for a while. Running the band practice, making sure that Bobby’s guitar is tuned to perfection and that Reggie knows when to come in during the chorus… it’s those organizational things that distract him the best. Because even though everything’s going to shit inside his head, on the outside everything looks perfect. It sounds perfect. It’s all as it should be.
“Reggie and Bobby are still fighting because Bobby swatted at a bee on the way to the studio, and Reggie just stopped immediately to yell at him for it because ‘bees are essential to nature,’ and ‘they’re his friends,’ and he was offended. Bobby texted me all this.
“So now Reggie’s refusing to come to practice-- or go anywhere else with Bobby-- ‘til he ‘apologizes to the bees’.” Alex snorts. “So we won’t be seeing them for a while.”
He finally crosses the studio to the couch and settles himself down on Willie’s other side, dropping his bag to the floor. “So what have you guys been up to?”
“Not-- not much,” Luke stutters. “We were just--”
“Luke was just saying how gorgeous my hair is, how much he wants to run his fingers through it. He said it’s like the finest silk from China, the most glorious, flowing--”
“Shut up,” Luke chokes out a laugh. “Alex, we weren’t--”
Alex doesn’t seem too bothered, though. He grins at Luke easily and says, “Willie's hair really is something, isn’t it?”
Luke feels his cheeks turn cranberry red. “It-- it’s alright.”
“Alright?!” Willie asks incredulously. “I believe you compared it to Rapunzel. It’s Disney Princess-worthy!”
Alex lets out a poorly-concealed snort and shoves Willie playfully, knocking him into Luke like a domino. He shoots Luke a grin over his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“He’s modest, too!”
“Luke said he’s gonna be our Prince Charming!” Willie says with glee.
“Luke, why didn’t you tell me you liked Willie’s hair so much?” Alex teases.
“Hey, it’s only fair,” Willie protests, with an impish smirk that sends shock waves through Luke’s small intestine.  “If I have to listen to you wax poetic about Luke’s arms all day, you should be able to handle-- appreciate, even-- that Luke thinks my hair is sexy.” He flips his hair, for dramatic effect, and winks at Luke. “‘Cause it is, you know. He’s absolutely right, and he can say it!”
“You’re relentless,” Luke grumbles. His face feels like a campfire.
“Willie!” Alex’s eyes widen, his own blush sprouting on his cheeks now, like Fourth of July fireworks. “You weren’t supposed to--”
“It’s fine, Hot Dog,” Willie chuckles. “I think Luke feels the same way about you. Right, Luke?”
“Wait, what?!” Luke splutters. “I--”
Luke stops himself, because he was about to deny that, and… he’s not fully confident in his answer, anyway.
He and Alex tried something, years ago, way back before Alex even met Willie… but Luke had been scared back then.  He was still scared now-- the prospect of crossing that line from friendship to more, when so much was at stake… their friendship, the band. Luke’s sense of security.
He can’t still like Alex. He shouldn’t like Willie.
And liking both of them?
Alex and Willie are still staring at him, still waiting for the answer that would make or break the entire afternoon. And Luke opens his mouth to say no, to try to salvage whatever he has left of Alex’s friendship, of his own self-respect… but apparently his brain and his heart and his mouth are not all on the same page, because the word that leaves his lips is, “Yes.”
He braces himself for the impact; for Alex’s eyes to widen in realization. For him to try to backtrack, say that Willie hadn’t meant what he said.  For Willie to use whatever paranormal charisma skills he seemed to possess to try to get them all back on track-- to make some sort of joke or change the subject.
He even prepares himself for one of them to tell him to leave. He wouldn’t blame them, honestly.
But none of that happens. What happens is that Alex steps forward slowly, shakily, and looks at Luke with a strange expression-- fear, confidence, and desire all morphed into one.
Luke’s never seen Alex look like that before, but the sight of it sets his heart pounding in his rib cage again.
“Can I… can I try something?”
Luke nods, so Alex steels himself and grabs Luke by the wrist, pulling him in and smashing their lips together.
The kiss is warm, and fast, and Luke’s heart is beating out of his chest but the sleeves of Alex’s hoodie are soft against his bare arms. He pulls Alex closer, needing more of the unexpected comfort, and Alex obliges, swinging one hand around Luke’s head to hold it in place against his.
Eventually, Luke does need to pull back and catch his breath. When he does he finds Alex’s gaze on him intently; and behind him, Willie is watching carefully, too, braced for Luke’s reaction.
He just… he kissed his best friend. In front of his boyfriend! And neither of them look particularly bothered about it…
How the hell did Luke’s day turn into this? How did he get to this point, panting in the garage studio, sweat prickling against the back of his neck, Alex looking at him like that, fresh out of a kiss, and Willie… looking like he wants to join in?
“Shit, Alex,” Willie teases, letting out a trembling breath. “I don’t think you’ve ever kissed me like that.” His eyes settle on Luke. “Can it be my turn now?”
The kiss with Willie’s a lot different. It’s warm and soft and comforting like Alex’s was, but there’s an edge to it. Luke feels like a teenager again, almost; like he’s doing something he shouldn’t be… but that just makes him enjoy it all the more.
Kissing Willie is like speeding down a highway on a motorcycle-- he can feel the rush of the wind in his ears, the room spinning around him, but he feels grounded to the seat all the same.
It’s exhilaration; it’s jumping out of an airplane with no parachute, and the rush of it only makes Luke want more.
Luke still doesn’t know how his day had turned from bad to how it is now; full of possibilities, full of nerve wracking love and things Luke didn’t even realize he was craving.
When Willie pulls him back in for another kiss, Luke decides he doesn’t even care. He’s just happy to be along for the ride.
12 notes · View notes
chichirichick · 3 years
Text
SoMa Week Day 3: Protect
I may have gone a little crazy with this one... it's sort of a lyric fic inspired by @macabremermaid sending me awesome playlists for my other fics.
Check out my @soulxmakaweek entry for Day 3 on ff.net, ao3, or after the cut! Also, feel free to listen to the playlist on repeat 😘
"What the hell is this?"
There were never more dreadful words strung together, but the fact that Maka was shouting them as she was unceremoniously plopping onto his stomach while he was lying on the couch added a blistering wave of anxiety to them. As Soul realized it was in fact his laptop in her hands, the utter panic was compounded as his heart threatened to entirely spew from his chest.
Had he perhaps left a porn tab open?
Had she opened his email and saw how much money he actually spent on the new sound system that he bought for the living room?
Had she found the chat logs between him and Liz where she dogged him day in and day out about the uncomfortable reality of his feelings for his meister?
"Soul, seriously- KPop?"
I wish it was the porn, he cursed out at the universe.
"Because I go to YouTube to find a video on how to fix-"
"Why are you on my laptop though?" He finally managed to squeak, even though that was most definitely not even close to raging; it was just the poor, pathetic squeal of a man entirely metaphorically stripped.
"Mine needs to charge," she spat back as if that was a stupid question in the first place. "Going back to my point- I open it up and on the top of your playlists is this one: Mix0903. Which is filled with Korean boy bands." She leveled her eyes at him with the playful accusation. "Does that mean you have nine hundred and two other mixes of Korean pop music or are the others at least filled with the snooty music you've led us all to believe you actually like? I think Miles Davis would be rolling over in his grave-"
"Give me that!" Soul finally let some of his panic feed action rather than frozen fear as he sat up and grabbed for the laptop. Regardless of the implications, part of him wished for it to take a skyrocketing, crashing fall, shattering to bits just as his coolness had moments prior, but Maka had an iron grip on the machine. The only thing his movements earned him was Maka settling in his lap, leaning as far forward as she could manage with arms outstretched to keep the laptop from his grasp.
Yes, this position was in no way, shape, or form comfortable as her ass ground into his crotch, but at least Soul's body was more involved with the hysterics of her hitting play, of that stupid first song starting the emotional rollercoaster that he sat on at least once a week.
"BTS, Soul, seriously," Maka teased through twittering giggles. "Dimple? Do you know the dance for this? Please, please, tell me you do!"
"There's no dance," he groaned as he attempted to wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her closer so that his other hand could hopefully stretch far enough to the spacebar to at least stop the torture. Instead, he was left cursing Maka's flexibility, the tuck of her waist still leaving it out of his grasp.
"OK, OK, next!" Maka clicked a button. "Who's WOODZ?"
"You wouldn't know 'im," Soul grumbled.
"Ugh, even with K-Pop you're an insufferable hipster. You wouldn't know him, he's so underground," she added as she put on her best Soul impression.
He sucked his teeth as he heard the click again.
"OK, Shinee's a classic, Soul," Maka interrupted herself for laughter again. "But this one's a little creepy, isn't it? With all my body baby- I'll crash into you- So that I can feel- Every little thing with you."
Soul huffed.
Another click.
"VIXX?" Peels of laughter left her again. "Oh, and look at the collars, Soul! Are you serious? Is that going to be a new fashion look for you?"
As if I need more jokes from Black Star about bein' on a leash, Soul sighed.
Another click. "Worship U?"
This was spiraling out of control and Soul's only hope with the insufferable length of her reach was to let his head fall in defeat between her shoulder blades.
"If you think giving up already is going to save you from teasing…" Maka started but the words trailed off, overwhelmed by the song.
"I won't stop, never
Until the end of my life
Don't stop forever
Without wavering like this
Now don't worry, worry, worry
I will protect you-"
The line cut off quickly as Maka clicked again.
Soul's hand tensed around her wrist.
"BTS again." She was trying to laugh but it came out a little too breathy.
"Why is it so dark when you're not here
It's dangerous how wrecked I am
Save me because I can't get a grip on myself"
The arm around her waist pulled, and Maka allowed her back to curl into his chest, the laptop now well within his reach. He moved his head to hover just over her shoulder, eyes on the screen. Instead of grasping for it, his hands were busy on her skin, trying to hold her as much as he was holding the words he'd listened to a million times.
Another click.
"Even though I like you, nobody knows
Even when I see other girls, nobody's like you
I'm sorry for having no courage
You can laugh at me all you want
I'm a loser who loves you
Yes, I'm a misery
To you, I'm a nuisance, I'm an outsider
But in this world, I only need you"
"Don't know why you'd listen to that," Maka murmured. "You're such a cool guy, right?"
Soul couldn't help but feel the sting of it, even if her voice was warbly and barely above a breath.
Another click.
"I won't ever let you go again
I'll hold you, we'll be together forever
I'll cover your beautiful eyes so you won't go anywhere
I'll trap you inside of me"
Say it, Soul wanted to spit out the venom from between his teeth. It's possessive. It's awful. It's too much. That's what it feels like sometimes. Too much. It's selfish.
Instead, in the silence that came with the song cutting off, he got one more click.
"It's the last one."
"After that," he barely squeezed out the words as he pressed his face into her hair, "you gonna leave me alone?"
"If a shadow covers your light
I can't see
I get confused again
It's not like me
But you still smile for me
It's you
Will I be able to protect you?
I'm afraid"
"That was…" Maka forced a long, slow breath. "Soul, it wasn't your nine-hundred-and-third playlist, was it?"
He let out a weak laugh as he started to loosen his hold on her, his hand trying to slip away.
"September third." Maka grabbed his hand on retreat, tangling his fingers with hers. "The day we met, right?"
"Yeah," he muttered.
"And I- I actually have a dimple?"
Soul cleared his throat. "Sorta."
"Sorta," Maka echoed. Suddenly her fingers were clacking on the keyboard, hitting the enter with extra vigor. "I don't have a list, but listen."
"How much time
are you gonna spend worrying? question
I'm preparing to go to war
with the things that bother you, yes sir
My mood changes according to yours
I get so mad when I see you sad
Like a wave crashing on sand, erase it all
Your worries are no more, now only happy days are left"
Maka pushed the laptop forward and out of her hands, the song still trickling along to the chorus as she turned her head over her shoulder. "So, are you going to look at me?"
Soul leaned, letting his eyes meet hers with a searching stare.
"You always protect me." She shook her head softly, tossing his ridiculous worry aside. "And I doubt GOT7 had the kind of protection you offer in mind when they wrote that song." Maka tapped her knuckle below his shoulder where his shirt hid that blaring white scar. "You shouldn't listen to some playlist of boy bands mourning how they can't have the girl they love or they're afraid about treating her right when you do." Green eyes hit his, a plea from them, her soul, and her mouth hitting him in the face, "Tell me you do."
"That I…?"
"Stop worrying, and tell me," Maka murmured, saturated in her own fears even as she was asking him to throw away his.
"It's not just…" He sighed as he flexed his fingers in hers. "It's not just because we're meister and weapon, Maka, it's not-"
"I know," she pressed. "Can you just channel their energy for just one second and be cute and romantic?"
Soul's eyebrows shot up. "But, I-"
"Am bad at this," Maka sighed. "Fine. Soul Evans, if you can't put it into words can you at least-?"
He quickly pressed his lips to her cheek, derailing the rest of her thought entirely. Before his lips had even disengaged, Soul was squeezing his eyes shut, ready for the standard Maka-chop to clobber him into next week. When it didn't come, he knocked his forehead against her shoulder, turning his face to rest it against the warmth of her neck.
Maka reached up awkwardly to run her fingers over his hair, letting out a sweet sigh in the process. "That'll work." She giggled to herself as she reached for the laptop again. "But I want a new playlist. It's better when we make music together, right?"
18 notes · View notes
oneletteredwondered · 4 years
Text
Kiss me you animal
Sum: dance like no one is watching
Pair: Virgil/Remus, Dukexiety
Written for @dukexietyweek Day 5: Music
Warnings: song!fic, probably swearing, mild anxious feelings, MCR.
--
Remus is bored. Which is never a good thing on it’s own. But he’s also bored and lonely. He wants to do something with someone but he isn’t sure what he wants to do either which make him more frustrated with being bored and lonely. He groans to himself and the walls around him shudder with the force. He’s so bored he actually walks down stairs to the common area instead of just sinking through the ceiling and landing with a crash like he usually does.
The common room is dark, and dingy, and a little messy, but most certainly lived in and loved by its occupants. Remus kind of likes it that way, make it easier to hide stuff in the cushions to be found later for a well awaited prank.
This time the room is not empty. For once in a blue moon Virgil is on the couch, curled up in a tight ball of a blanket with his headphones on. Remus twists his nose up at him in greeting and Virgil flips him off in return. As he passes by he catches the sound of music coming from the headphones and an idea strikes him.
With an easy snap of his fingers, the music stops in the headphones and plays from loudspeakers now lining the top of the room. Some bright colored lights flood the floor and Virgil jumps out of his skin at the sudden new loudness.
“Remus what the fuck dude!” Virgil cries out but it’s too late, Remus is already headbanging wildly to the song playing and not caring for anything else, screaming the lyrics loudly.
“Drugs, gimme drugs, gimme drugs, I don't need it, but I'll sell what you got, take the cash and I'll keep it!” 
He gesutres wildly to Virgil who is still looking at him like he’s crazy which to be fair Virgil does a lot but this seems more directed this time. Remus hops over the couch towards him and Virgil jumps back and hits the wall, skittering up like a spider.
“Eight legs to the wall, hit the gas, kill them all, and we crawl, and we crawl, and we crawl! You be my detonator!” Virgil lets out a snort but stays safe on the wall for while longer as Remus belts out the lyrics and shakes the entire common space with the force of his passion. He thrashes about, not ruining anything but certinaly causing a disruption. He spies Virgil whispering along to the lyrics as well and decides that just won't do. He slides to stop in front of Virgil with his hands out and an inviting smile.
“Gimme more, gimme more, gimme more, shut up and sing it with me!” He yanks Virgil down and pulls him into a weird spinning jumping sort of dance, no ryhme or reason, just pure movement. He’s screaming along to one part of the song while Virgil does the chorus slowly getting louder and louder. The general air of tension Virgil keeps close around him is slowly dissolving. He's laughing as he sings and the smile he wears is one Remus does not see often.
It’s a hidden sort of thing, because Virgil is all of the fears and worries, and one is that his smile looks weird or bad. But it’s here now that smile, and Virgil looks so unashamed to show it that it makes Remus even more crazy.
“More, gimme more, gimme more!” Remus spins Virgil away from him and hops up on the table.
“Oh, let me tell you about the sad man!” He makes a crying motion with his hands, his outfit shifting to pastel blue and grey, a mockery of Patton. Virgil snorts and turns away from him but Remus is faster he slides in front of Virgil and now dorns yellow and black.
“ Shut up and let me see your jazz hands,” He echos and Virgil does the jazz hands with him with no shame.
“Remember when you were a madman," Blue and black and glasses, and a crazed expression has Virgil busting out laughing.
“Thought you was Batman!” Something blindingly red and Virgil is pushing him away only to rock his head back and forth to the music.
“Hit the party with a gas can! Kiss me, you animal!” Virgil shouts the lyrics and Remus feels like ice water was dumped down his spine as Virgil keeps recklessly singing the lyrics. A sudden part of him wants to. Wants to kiss this wild Virgil who looks carefree and happy and for once not worrying what someone else thinks about him. Remus wants so badly.
So he gets closer as the song reaches a lull and back to back they rasie their hands, palms up with their fingers pointed to the sky, pressing into each other for support and energy, feeling the buzz between each other as the song begins to pick up again.
They turn and face each other screaming out the lyrics. Smiles on both their faces.
"Everybody wants to change the world, but no one, no one, wants to die, wanna try, wanna try, wanna try, wanna try, wanna try, now-!"
They head bang in time to the music, a miracle they don't bang into each other with the building force of their movements. Remus can see multitudes in Virgil’s eyes as he screams.
"I'll be your detonator!” And the music gets louder by Remus’s doing. It pounds in his ear drums as they both dance haphazardly to the music, jumping on the couch and table, kicking over a chair or two just because they can.
Remus sees Virgil laughing and looking so free of worries for the first time in a long time and he can’t stand to be away from him any longer. He dahes forward and right as the lyrics pick back up he hoists Virgil up in his arms and spins him about
“Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na!” They shout to the ceiling and Remus drops Virgil back to his feet, making sure to keep one hand on him as much as possible, gripping his fingers, hand on his shoulder, pressed up against his side or back. Remus needs to be closer to him, to somehow let Virgil know this wild side of him is welcome, wanted, beautiful.
They end face to face, hair in their eyes and cheeks red with the force of their yelling. The two of them barely breathing enough to continue but they do if nothing else than out of pure spite.
“I'd rather go to hell! Than be in a purgatory!” Remus screams.
“Cut my hair, gag and bore me!” Virgil shouts back at him.
“Pull this pin!” Remus grabs Virgil by the waist and spins him, dropping him into a dip.
“Let this world explode!” Virgil breathes out the last lyric, letting his hand fall down to the ground with his head back, Remus being the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. 
The sound of their panting fills the room as the speakers Remus put up melt into puddles and disappear. Silence surrounds them and with a small squeaking cackle, Remus hoists Virgil back to a proper standing postion but doesn't remove his hands from Virgil's waist. Virgil is still smiling and laughing, shaking his head at his own enjoyment and Remus doesn't want to let him go for a second.
But then Virgil looks at him, the smile on his face slowly falling away as he realizes the position they’re in and what he jsut did.
“Uh-” Virgil says eloquently and weasels his way out of Remus’s hands. He rubs his arms and shrinks, and just like that, the sudden explosion of who he was is gone leaving Remus whiplashed. Virgil moves to walk away.
“Where you going?” Remus asks him, trailing like a lost dog. Virgil gives him a grimace.
“Away form here,” Virgil says and before Remus can do anything else Virgil sinks out leaving him hollow and definitely missing something. Remus spins in a circle looking at the upturned room from their dancing. 
They were having fun. Laughing, getting along, and Remus didn't bring out any kind of intestines or bugs or anything. It was fun and Virgil was smiling and looking so alive and now it's gone and Remus doesn’t know why.
Now he's, bored, certainly lonely, and confused.
With a twist in his mouth he sinks out to Virgil's room, except he pops up in front of Virgil's purple door and not inside like he intended meaning Virgil has locked it.
“Oh Virgey! Let me in!” Remus coos and knocks on the door quickly. There’s a muffled 'no' from the other side that makes Remus pout.
“Little pig little pig let me in!” He tries again. This time no answer at all. Remus tilts his head to the side with a crack and waves his hand at the door, willing it to open for him. It does and he steps inside.
“Seriously dude?” Virgil snaps at him because they both know that Remus knows that Virgil doesn't like when he breaks into his room. He sits up on his bed and Remus closes the door behind him with a kick.
“What just happned.” He demands. Virgil glares at him.
“What are you talk-”
“We were having fun, and dancing and singing and having fun and you just left.” Remus accuses of him angrily. Virgil slinks down at his words, not looking at Remus as he does.
“It's nothing dude just forget about it.” Virgil turns away from him and flops to his bed, putting his back towards Remus. Remus’s blood boils and he can feel the steam coming out of his nose when he exhales.
“No.” He says decidedly and stalks forward. Virgil twists just enough to see him coming but Remus is faster, landing on Virgil's bed with both his hands smacking down on either side of Virgil's head to trap him down.
“We were having fun, what happened.” He asks again. Virgil shifts uncomfortably under him, the feeling of being trapped starting to edge on his anxiety. The shadows of the room twist and creep closer but Remus glares them back with a look.
“It’s just- I don't know! We were so exposed out there and- it probably looked super fucking dumb I don't know!” Virgil scrambles for words and Remus lets out another smokey exhale.
“You know I don't give a shit what you do or what you look like right?” He deadpans. Virgil freezes and stares at him. Remus arcs an eyebrow at the confused expression.
“Out of all the people to not give a fuck how you look, I am probably the best bet,” Remus says a little softer this time, gently easing back so Virgil is less trapped but still beneath him. Virgil relaxes a little and covers his mouth with his hand.
“I know that, I do , it's just.. hard to remember sometimes. Because of, the whole-” Virgil gestures to himself as a whole and Remus rolls his eyes so hard they fall out of his head and across the floor. He shakes his head and new eyes appear in the sockets, an electric purple just for Virgil.
“Listen raggedy anx, I don't give a flying fuck,” He says and grabs Virgil's hand from across his mouth. He knows how embarrassed Virgil is by his smile, a common fear for many, but not for Remus.
“-About any of that shit.” Carefully he brings Virgil's hand to his face and kisses his palm. He feels Virgil still below him but he doesn't stop. He feels a burning inside him and he's never really learned how to call it quits before.
“I liked seeing you act all crazy and wild. I liked seeing you smile and having fun. I liked that you were having fun with me. How many more times do I need to say it?” Remus asks him then, glaring from over Virgil's hand still pressed to his face. He’d say it seven million more times if needed. Virgil swallows hard and Remus zeros in on the action hungrily.
“Maybe.. maybe a few more times wouldn't hurt?” Virgil chokes out, embarrassed about wanting the attention but Remus isn’t. He smirks wildly.
“I liked hearing you sing, i liked hearing you scream, i liked seeing you kick over a chair” HE says and Virigl snorts and attemps cover his mouth with his hand but Remus is still holding it and ends up squeezing their hands together.
“I like seeing you smile I like seeing you be happy, I like seeing you having fun,” Remus goes on and Virgil is giggling hysterically now unsure of how to respond to the affection. 
“I like hearing you laugh.. I like seeing you beanth me," Here Remus wiggles his eyebrows and Virgil takes the nearest pillow to shove in his face in a peel of laughter. Remus shoves it out of the way and dives forward, scooping Virgil in his arms and shaking his head into Virgil's chest. He can hear Virgil's heart beating and the shakiness of his breathing but he's alive in his hands and it sends him reeling.
“I like you,” He pops up to look at Virgil. Virgil's smile slips off to a bewildered expression. Remus stares back at him. And since he’s never thought anything through in his life, Remus shifts a hand out from under Virgil to place on his cheek to hold him steady and kiss him.
Virgil lets out a shaky exhale of a noise through his nose that Remus can feel on his cheek but it doesn't stop him, especially not when Virgil’s tension of existing seems to melt away. So he kisses a little longer until Virgil gently places a hand on his chest and pushes him back. He stares down as Virgil catches his breath.
“I liked that,” Remus says then. Virgil looks up at him, a lopsided smile crosses his face.
“It was. It was alright,” Virgil tells him but there’s a hint of smirk there that has Remus buzzing.
“Can I do it again?” Remus asks and shimmies a little in excitment. Virgil snorts and almost, almost covers his mouth with his hand, but thinks twice and moves it to the back of Remus’s head to scratch at the base of his neck. Remus lets out a grumbling purr at the action.
“I guess you can, if you want.” Virgil tells him.
“Do you want?” Remus asks. Virgil bites his lip and Remus decides he too, would like to bite Virgil's lip.
“Yeah, I.. yeah I would like that.” Remus scrunches his nose.
“Are you sure?” He doesn't want Virgil to tighten up or fall back into his shell now. Virgil huffs at him and tugs him down just a little.
“Kiss me you animal.” And no sooner do the words leave his mouth is Remus dropping down again to kiss him, getting Virgil's lower lip between his teeth and nipping at it playfully. 
They spend the rest of the day curled up around each other in Virgil's bed, kissing and teasing each other over stupid things and Remus is wiggling happily. He’s no longer bored, or confused, and certainly not lonely.
126 notes · View notes
visceraah · 3 years
Text
The sound of music
(aka i’m so sorry for naming it after a musical it has nothing to do with dkjsdjksdjk names are hard)
My gift for @anianthe for @sanderssidesgiftxchange
Rating- Teen cause i’m incapable of not writing wayyy more swears then are necessary-
WC- 2947
Ship- Just Virgil interacting w the other sides,, feel free to interpret romantically if you want!
Warnings- not really any! Remus shows up briefly so.. beware of that. and ig Virgil is also kinda mean bUT he does it affectionately.
AO3
-
“We’re having a movie night!”
Virgil blinked. Took off his his headphones which, unfortunately, hadn’t been playing anything- he wore them out of habit, sometimes- meaning he heard everything his stupid best friend just said.
“No, we aren’t.”
Roman flopped down on his bed without waiting for any indication it was okay, something Virgil was all too used to. “We are now.”
Virgil sighed heavily and pushed Roman with his foot, trying to roll him off the bed. He didn’t budge. “And if I don’t want to?”
“Pleaseeee?” Roman employed the puppy dog eyes and Virgil knew already this was a losing battle. Ugh.
“I get to pick the movie.”
Roman perked up immediately, coming to sit next to him. “Yes! Okay! Just- Disney?”
Virgil rolled his eyes, wondering if Roman was capable of consuming content made by anyone else. He was beginning to doubt it. “Nightmare Before Christmas, then.”
“Predictable.” Roman murmured smugly, and he elbowed him.
“You want this movie night or not?”
“Okay, okay! I yield!” Roman cried, clutching his ribs. Virgil was pretty sure he was more upset at the prospect of a cancelled movie night then the ‘pain’ he was overplaying right now.
“Okay.” Virgil agreed, smugly, and set the movie on.
He’d seen it a million times already, which for most people would only make it boring by now- but Virgil found comfort in familiar things. Plus, that animation! He could happily watch it a million more times- and, honestly, probably would.
That meant he had it memorised, though, and soon enough he was singing along to the introduction under his breath. He listened along contently, until an unfamiliar third voice joined the chorus, and he startled, looking to the side. “Roman?”
Roman stared back, raising an eyebrow at him. “... Hi.”
“Were you singing along?”
Romans eyes flicked between Virgil and the screen, where the movie was still playing, in confusion. “Yes, Dr Gloom? Look, I know what a downer you love to be, but these pipes can’t stay closed all the time! They need exercise- and, the world deserves- neigh, needs to hear them!”
Virgil huffed at the dramatics, although it was fond. “I never said it was a problem, Sir Sing-a-lot, I’m just surprised.”
“One, that’s not an insult and I’m absolutely using that,” Roman retorted, “And two… It’s Disney! One of their best! Do you really expect me to not know the words?”
Virgil snorted, but he had to admit, he couldn’t disagree with that. “Whatever, nerd.”
Roman gasped, somehow seeming more upset than when Virgil had elbowed him. Of course that’d be what got to him. “I am not! I’m a prince- a very princely prince! Not-”
“Whatever you say, prince of the nerds.” Virgil hummed out, smirking to himself. Maybe Roman bursting in out of nowhere wasn’t so bad… This time. He still hated surprises and would not be convinced to do this again. He said that every time
-
Being Romans best friend, unfortunately, had its side effects. One was unplanned, unannounced Disney marathons he had no choice but to roll with. Another was actually listening to his musicals so often he learned to like them, too.
For all he said about Hamilton being overrated (and Romans reaction was priceless every time), he had to admit it was good. A little fast for him to keep with, but he rarely sang along to his songs anyway, preferring to hum quietly unless he was really in the mood.
He liked keeping his music to himself, too- he didn’t want to annoy anyone, so he always wore headphones- but sometimes he just wanted to drown the world out, and they went to full volume. Worked a treat to drown everyone out, but plenty audible to everyone else in the room. Sometimes, though, they’d just have to live with it.
Today was one of those days, where Virgil didn’t want to speak to anybody and had the volume to show it. He was playing one of Princeys musicals, too, humming along to ‘my shot’ no matter how different it was to his normal taste. He nodded in acknowledgement as he passed Logan on his beeline for the fridge, planning on grabbing the easiest and least healthy snack possible.
Retreating with his bag of marshmallows in hand- he was pretty sure they weren’t meant to be in the fridge, but they were imaginary, so maybe nothing needed to go in the fridge. Holy shit.
He pulled the headphones back, opening his mouth to ask Logan's opinion, when he heard a sound that made him freeze in his tracks.
Logan was rapping along to himself. And well. Jesus, how had he forgotten about that? He stared, still in disbelief, and Logan awkwardly trailed off when he noticed his gaze. “Ah, you could hear me.”
“Yeah, I just wanted to ask… Doesn’t matter. Holy shit, Lo, you’re amazing.”
Logan flushed slightly, looking down at the table. “I simply have an appreciation of the genre, and Hamilton has some particular, uhm- how would you say? ‘Bangers’.”
Virgil laughed, slipping into the seat opposite him and taking the headphones off completely. “Dude, I’ve spent enough time with Roman to know having an ‘appreciation’ doesn’t mean you can pull something off.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly fighting back a smile. “I am not sure he’d appreciate you saying that.”
“Eh, I’ve said it to his face before- and will again.” Virgil dismissed, feeling his lips turn up as well. “Why don’t you do it more?”
Logan shrugged, adjusting his glasses awkwardly. “It is hardly a logical skill for me to have, so it simply… Hasn’t come up.”
“Ro doesn’t need an excuse for songs to ‘come up’ before he starts singing them.” Virgil pointed out, and Logan chuffed.
“No, he certainly doesn’t. But we are different people.”
Virgil laughed, nodding. “You could say that again.”
“Oh. Alright, we are differen-”
“It’s an expression, dude. Come on.” Virgil interrupted, sounding nothing but fond as Logan widened his eyes in realisation.
“A highly illogical one, but alright. I can add it to my flashcards to avoid further confusion.” He decided, pulling out his deck there and then to add to. He paused when he heard the crackling of a plastic bag pulled open, looking up as Virgil helped himself to a marshmallow. “Please do not tell me you intend on consuming that entire bag.”
“Maybe.” Virgil held it out, grinning now. “Want one?”
“A key ingredient is gelatin, created by boiling down a pig or cows bones, skin, ligaments or tendons.” Logan deadpanned, and Virgil almost threw the whole bag away in disgust before he remembered,
“But they’re imaginary!”
Logan titled his head. “I suppose so.”
“Actually, I was thinking…” Virgil began, curious about how the fridge actually worked. Soon enough Logan was in a full-fledged rant about mindscape food, and half of it went over his head, but he didn’t mind listening. It was interesting, after all.
-
Whatever concerns Virgil had about not bothering anyone with his music, the other sides didn’t share them. Roman didn’t hesitate to sing whatever came to mind as it came to mind, offering full renditions of his favourite musical tracks daily, Logan could be heard humming to himself as he worked, Remus had no restraint about… Anything, really, and this was no different, Janus wasn’t exactly considerate, and Patton- Patton was the worst at all.
He wandered the mindscape belting out whatever was in his head at the moment which, as a father figure, was always old, tacky, and bad. They’d learned to ignore it for the most part, but some of the songs he played… Some of them were just unforgivable. And, sitting on the couch as Patton tidied up a little, Virgil had left himself completely at their mercy.
“JOLENE-”
Virgil pulled his hoodie over his ears, wishing he’d brought his headphones. Or just not left his room. “Please, no.”
“Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeeeeeene, I’m begging of you please don’t take my man-”
“Pain, Padre. This is causing me physical pain.” Virgil groaned, slamming his head back in an attempt to make it all stop. Unfortunately, the sofa was soft, and he just bounced back. Eurgh.
“Awh, cmon kiddo! I’m just singing. You could always join me.” Patton chirped, rearranging the same jar for the fourth time in three minutes.
“I might die.” Virgil deadpanned, staring Patton dead in the eyes, and he giggled.
“Don’t be silly… Come on, my music isn’t that bad!”
Virgil couldn’t quite believe his ears. Maybe they were still bleeding from being subjected to Dolly Parton. “You listen to dad music.”
“Well, yeah, but what else did you expect from your pops-”
Virgil groaned louder, shaking his head. “I- whatever. When’d you even start listening to country music?”
“Nico likes it!” Patton replied, brightly, and Virgil bristled.
“That’s it, Thomas has to break it off.”
It took Patton a second to recognize Virgil was joking, and he started laughing. “Don’t be so judgy! I listen to your music- in fact, I quite like being cautious in the disco.”
“Oh my god.” Virgil pulled his hood down further over his eyes, the secondhand embarrassment hitting him full force. “You’re so old.”
“Now, I know I’m no spring chicken, but that’s hardly a nice thing to say-”
“We are all the same age.” Logan interjected as he walked through the room, gone before Virgil could try and drag the only other sane one around him to his aid.
“Look, Patt- I love you, but Dolly is too far.” Jesus, Virgil was spending too much time with Roman. Dramatic ultimatums weren’t his style at all.
“... How about Country Roads?”
“Jesus Christ.” Virgil sunk further back into the sofa, hoping it’d just swallow him and his smile.
-
“I wanna play a song.”
“Get your own headphones.”
“But yours are so loud, they’re basically speakers! You ever turn them up to full volume while they’re on? How loud are they? Oooh, reckon they could rupture your eardrums so blood would bubble out your ears and trail down your face-”
“Stop.” Virgil interrupted with a grimace, before Remus’ imagination could go anywhere gorier. They’d been at this for ten minutes and his answer hadn’t wavered once. “It’s a no, alright? Just… Go away.”
Remus huffed loudly and dropped onto the sofa next to Virgil. Great. “What do you want?”
“Hmmm… Oh, I can do a list!” Remus declared, and before Virgil could tell him please, god, don’t, he was off. “A pony- to disembowel so I can use its guts for ritual purposes, that one dick in a Russian erotica museum they claim is Rasputins and has magical fertility powers, for Barry Bee Benson to be real so I can fu-”
“Alright!” Virgil shuddered and disconnected his headphones. He didn’t know what Remus wanted to do with a literal bee, and he liked it that way. “There.”
Remus grinned a grin with far too many teeth, just a little too sharp, and Virgil rolled his eyes, waiting for whatever monstrosity he was about to hear.
 There’s some whores in this house, there’s some-
“You did not just play WAP!” Virgil punched Remus in the arm, pulling his headphones off “You- I swear to God, don’t do the dance.”
Remus was already halfway stood up and Virgil quickly pulled him back down. He’d never wanted Remus to stay sat next to him more in his life. (To be fair, it wasn’t something he felt often.)
“But I already know it!”
“Of course you do.” Virgil grumbled, glancing over at Remus. “Why do you have to play… This, up here?”
“Jannie’s kicked me out, you know how he is.”
Virgil blinked at him, regretting what he was about to say before the words even left his mouth. “If I get him to back off, will you keep your music to the dark side?”
“That’s not fun, though! Ooh, wait, Logan likes rap, doesn’t he? Reckon he’d like to see the dance?”
Virgil stared at Remus blankly. “Please, say that was a joke.”
“It wasn’t! If you wanna hear one, though… Ooh, ok. Two kids walk into a hospice- ”
“No.” Virgil interrupted again, although even he had to snort a little at how ridiculous it was. Even if it was also deeply, deeply twisted. “I- look, I’m gonna do it.”
Remus tilted his head further then looked natural. Virgil was pretty sure he heard a crack. “Thought you hated me and Double Dee.”
“I- I’m just doing this for my sanity, alright? And Logans.” Virgil snapped back, avoiding meeting his eyes.
Avoiding things didn’t work with Remus, though, and soon enough he was uncomfortably close, peering right at Virgil with that unsettling grin. “Awww, Purps is being nice to us.”
“Shut up.” Virgil hissed, sinking out before Remus could pry any further. Creativity was so pushy, Jesus.
-
Virgil shuddered. He hadn’t been in the dark side of the mindscape in years and, after so long of the bright upstairs, the dark walls felt a little claustrophobic. He just needed to make this quick.
He strode down the hallway, trying to squash the growing nervousness in his stomach. What was the worst that could happen?
… Literally the worst thing he could’ve asked himself, he realised, speeding up subconsciously. So much could go wrong, while he was down here, and he didn’t even know where Deceit was, what if he tripped and fell and broke something and nobody would-
Piano, faint, made him stop in his tracks.
He wasn’t really an expert in classical music, but this had to be one of the more famous pieces, because he’d definitely heard it before. It was good, though, Mozart or something. Pretty difficult, too.
Exactly the kind of pretentious shit Deceit would play, and kick Remus out to enjoy. (Although Virgil couldn’t really blame him for that second part). Emboldened now he knew he wasn’t alone, and could make some jokes about what a snob he was, Virgil entered the room the sound was coming from.
He paled, because in front of him sat Deceit. At a piano. Playing the song.
“Since when do you play.”
Deceit only glanced up at Virgil, the melody smooth even with the interruption. He hated to admit it, but it was impressive. “Things have been quiet. I had time.”
“Quiet? With Remus?”
“I made things quiet.” Deceit amended, shrugging nonchalantly. Knowing him, it had probably been meant to sound as murder-y as it did. Didn’t stop Virgil from shuddering, anyway, serving as the perfect reminder of just how desperately he wanted to leave.
“Alright, look- whatever plan or plot this is, or is covering up, I don’t care.”
Deceit sighed, looking up at Virgil without faltering the music once. Jesus, he actually was good. “You’re right, I’m incapable of having any interests whatsoever without there being some deep, sinister plot behind it. You’ve spotted my evil plan.”
“I- alright, sarcasm’s meant to be for something obviously not true! That could be true!” Virgil protested, already feeling like he was losing this.
Deceit just raised an eyebrow at him in response, and Virgil instinctively hissed back, feeling more and more like he was backed into a corner.
Deceit had the nerve to laugh at him. “It’s been a while since you’ve done that.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had to talk to anyone so- so-” Virgil groaned, glaring at Deceit. “Stop playing that stupid thing, would you?”
“Alright.” Deceit agreed, and Virgil waited. He kept waiting. The piano continued and after an excruciating minute of listening for an end, he cursed. Why had Virgil assumed he’d be honest?
“Dick.”
“That is my legal name.” Deceit agreed dryly, and Virgil rolled his eyes. He was impossible to talk to.
“Look, just let Remus back down. He’s probably scarring Logan as we speak.”
Deceit smiled at the thought, looking back down at the keys as he played them. “I never said he couldn’t be down here. Oh, and I’m sure there’s /nothing/ about ‘scarring’ Logan that could’ve appealed to him.”
“What, so Remus lied?” Virgil crossed his arms. Remus was plenty of things, but one of them was painfully, brutally, upfront and honest. “That’s your thing.”
“Not lied.” Deceit tutted, like scolding a child for not knowing something they should have. Virgil clenched his fists. “Just… Was dramatic.”
Virgil tried to figure out what he meant before realising it meant literally nothing, and he glared at Deceit. “Stop being so cryptic for five seconds and tell me, Jesus.”
“I wasn’t aware you cared about him so much.” Deceit smirked, and Virgil threw his arms up in exasperation.
“I’m trying to get rid of him!”
Deceit snickered but finally, mercifully, seemed to have already had his fun. “I didn’t tell him to get out if he couldn’t just be quiet and not…” His smile faltered… “Dance on the piano.”
Yeah, that expression was priceless. Virgil laughed as Janus furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
“Just… Nevermind.” Virgil was pretty sure imagining that scene playing out was enough entertainment to last him weeks. And a reminder that honestly… Remus didn’t cause as much chaos as he gave him credit for. He was all bark… And plenty of bite, too, but nothing too permanent. “Keep playing, or whatever.”
“You aren’t going to demand I fetch the Duke?”
“He’s not a dog.” Virgil dismissed, resisting a smile at Deceit’s murmured ‘ehhhhh’. “He’ll come back when he wants to. And Logan can look after himself.”
“Amazing.” Deceit sighed heavily. “You wasted my time for nothing, then.”
Virgil could be proud of that, at the very least. He grinned in way of response, sending Deceit a nod before he sunk out.
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bookdancerfics · 4 years
Text
hear the noise (it’s a voice he can’t forget), a JatP Whumptober fic
No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue
Summary: Bobby wears Trevor Wilson as a cover, uses Sunset Curve’s music as a safety blanket, but it builds and builds and builds, snowballing until the moment it’s too late and he can’t take any of it back.
Rated T, Gen, 1.1k+ Words. Cross-posted to ao3 and ff.net (Bookdancer)
also, just a note that i've been seeing some tumblr posts and fics floating around that talk about what may have happened with bobby, and i was trying to figure out what to write for this day and eventually stumbled onto this. this isn't meant to excuse what bobby did at all, more like to give some reason to it. anyway i hope you all enjoy!
--
It only takes Bobby three weeks after the deaths of his best friends to decide he doesn’t want to be Bobby Basset anymore. Bobby Basset was a part of Sunset Curve, and Sunset Curve is no longer known for their good, up-and-coming music, but for the deaths of three-quarters of the band. If his name is Bobby Basset and he was a part of Sunset Curve, then he’s the only part of Sunset Curve still breathing, and he sees everyone from close friends to acquaintances to complete strangers make these connections as if it’s their life that depends on it. A friendly smile drops to furrowed brows, a tilted mouth, a “where did I hear that name before?”
And then it clicks.
He watches their eyes widen, their jaws drop. One woman brings her hand to her chest, as if she has a pearl necklace there that she’s used to clutching, as if she’s used to hearing about tragedies like his. They all try to salvage their reactions, of course—they try smiling again, lips wobbling, or they go to shake his hand, their mouths open to spill apologies they feel obligated to give.
They’re not the ones Bobby wants apologies from, though. No, he wants one from Luke, for the wet willy being the last thing he ever gave Bobby. He wants one from Reggie, for making him deal with the mess he left in the studio. And he wants one from Alex, for choosing to eat street-dogs of all things when he was supposed to be the smart one. Bobby wants apologies from all of them, for those things and for more, for everything else they made Bobby face in their absence. But most of all, for leaving Bobby alone.
So, yeah. Bobby reaches week four, month one, and he starts trying out new names. He avoids the Ls, and the Rs, and the As, and he even steers clear of the Bs, but that still leaves him with 22 more letters of the alphabet. His parents resist the change, at first. He goes through Matthew, Sonny, Joseph, Charles, Hank, and half a dozen other names before his mother finally clues in that he’s not budging.
She asks if she can help name him, again, and he can barely hide his relief when she picks Trevor. At age 18 he legally becomes Trevor Wilson, no longer a part of Sunset Curve.
Reggie’s parents sell their beach house.
Luke’s refuse to move.
He doesn’t check on Alex’s.
On the first anniversary of their death he finds his parents’ liquor stash and helps himself, and his father comes downstairs in the dead of night to find him crying on the couch, trying to strum along to “Now or Never” with clumsy, drunk fingers. He can’t even get past the first chorus.
His father kneels in front of him, places a hand over his, and Trevor leans over, still crying, to dig his forehead into his father’s shoulder and wish he could get drunk enough to escape this.
“Why don’t you sing their songs more?” his mother asks in the morning. Trevor’s head is on the kitchen table, pillowed in his arms, and it hurts, but he still looks up at her, squinting in confusion.
“They were the band’s,” he says. ‘Luke’s,’ he doesn’t add, but his mother knows. “It would feel wrong.”
“But it would be a healthier outlet, wouldn’t it?” she says. She pours him a glass of orange juice, sets it in front of him, and leans down to kiss his forehead. “Just think about it, alright?”
And he does, hard. It’s been awhile since he played, besides that one drunken night, and he misses it. He misses their songs. He misses busking with his best friends out on the beach, hoping for tips. He misses playing with them in small, crowded bars, bumping shoulders in tandem when they spot a familiar face, a possible fan, in the crowd. He misses them.
Trevor Wilson plays his first performance on the beach exactly where Sunset Curve made their busking debut.
He plays “Now or Never,” and “Get Lost,” and even “Crooked Teeth” when he thinks he won’t get through the night without a little laughter. And the crowd loves them. Him.
So he does it again, two weeks later. And again, after another week. And then he hits one bar, two bars, and he’s playing all of Luke’s good songs now but two—“My Name Is Luke” and “Unsaid Emily.”
By the time he’s 25 he’s a household name.
His parents are proud of him, and tell him as much, but there’s two stones in his gut that refuse to leave. One is grief, the ghosts of his friends following him in persistence even now, eight years after the fact. And the other is guilt.
He tells himself he can stop at any time, that he can reveal who the real songwriter was, but every time he tries he sees that woman with the invisible pearl necklace. He watches as her hand clutches at thin air, as her mouth drops open, as she turns to her husband as if looking for the right words to say because she didn’t understand that there were none. That those words still, even now, don’t exist.
He can see the tabloids’ headlines screaming, “Trevor Wilson, Current Heartthrob, Former Teenage Tragedy.”
So he doesn’t say anything.
It’s not as if he’s hurting anyone, after all. His friends are dead. He has his parents make sure that Reggie and Luke’s families get part of the profits, anonymously of course, and staunchly refuses when they ask about Alex’s parents.
And then he meets the love of his life, and they have Carrie, and his producer begs him for at least one more hit. And he does try for the original stuff, at least at first. But his producer shakes his head, then keeps shaking his head, and all he can think about is what if he’s not able to play their music anymore? What if he has to raise Carrie on something other than their music?
So Trevor drops the hit single “My Name Is Luke.”
He laughs about it in interviews, of course. What else could he do? He claims it’s the name of an old friend—true. He says he used the name for the rhyme—false. He tells the audience, and the interviewer, and anyone else who will ever see it that he wishes his friend Luke could see him now.
“I’m sure he’s very proud,” the interviewer says, and Trevor smiles, strained.
“I’m sure.”
Except over the next few years, his life falls apart. Carrie’s mother leaves. Sunset Curve’s songs are dried up; he refuses to play “Unsaid Emily,” leaves it tucked away in Luke’s old notebook where it will stay, unsaid, unsung. He’s still well known, still makes appearances at charity concerts, but his last album didn’t sell well and both he and his producer agreed that he was done. He focuses on Carrie, makes sure to spoil her rotten even as his own parents protest.
And then, one day, he hears them again. Sunset Curve.
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lovenliterature · 4 years
Text
My thoughts on folklore
(all my personal stuff will be crossed out so u can skip if you want)
the 1
Giving me strong first love vibes
Highly vibe with thinking you’ve seen your ex when you haven’t, such a frequent experience
V much reminds me of Stan and like, its nice to imagine what could have been without disliking how things are
Like the line about how you should show if you want someone, prevents complacency and I like that, love is work and when you forget that inevitably it falls apart
It’s also kinda nice to realise how many things lead you to where you are - if one thing was different it would all change
Comfy reminiscence
Favourite lyric: in my defense, i have none/for digging up the grave another time
cardigan
feels quite a mature outlook on a relationship
V pragmatic
the first notes, straight into lyrics that just fill me with nostalgia
also like its not denying your feelings, you still feel like an old cardigan but you feel special AS that without changing
Peter losing Wendy is such a good line 10/10
Music vid gets points too tbh
Oof chasing shadows in the grocery line is high key relatable (literally being at uni with my ex anyone)
Stars around my scars now i’m bleeding feels like he’s distracting from the hurt he’s causing, he heals wounds while causing others god this is a mess
Favourite lyric: chase two girls, lose the one/when you are young, they assume you know nothing
the last great american dynasty
Probably one of the closest things to a bop on the album?
the font and background in the lyric vid are perfect
love the juxtaposition with the wedding was charming/if a little gauche and the parties were tasteful/if a little loud - it’s like she’s so close to being accepted but it’s always tinged with disapproval
Favourite lyric: either she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green or free of women with madness/their men and bad habits (the bridge is just stunning)
exile
god what do i even say about exile?? 
Made me fucking bawl my eyes out the first time I heard it
the two perspectives are just so relatable and heartbreaking 
Choosing Bon Iver to collab with?? Perfect, the voices mesh so well and its just gorgeous
the opening verse is very relatable and its so well articulated and Justin Vernon’s voice just really hits home 
the I gave so many signs is high key relatable and i really really feel that
Also just the concept of both of them being left with no home - 10/10, no breakup is seamless
Favourite lyric: like he’s just your understudy - it feels like you’re gonna jump right back in but you’re not, you’ve been recast
my tears ricochet
I didn't have it in myself to go with grace/And you're the hero flying around, saving face - big oooooof, such a good way of showing how victims are expected to be the bigger person and be grateful idk
‘Cause when I’d fight you used to tell me I was brave - This is so relatable, like whenever you cut ties/fall out with someone you love this is such a strong feeling, they’re usually the ones backing you up and now its them you’re fighting with and that’s hard to reconcile
the bridge!!! OMG!!
Favourite lyric: and I can go anywhere I want/Anywhere I want, just not home
mirrorball
Also one that’s close to a bop
And I’m still a believer and I don’t know why - I know its not about disillusionment with politics/humanity but for me it’s very much, I want to believe in the goodness of people but fuck it’s hard
Favourite lyric: you’re not like the regulars/the masquerade revellers
seven 
My favourite song literally from the second I heard it
Like the whole vibe is so very me
and though I can’t recall your face/I still got love for you
Very much reminds me of Sam, I can’t remember that much about him but I can remember how close we were and how important he was to me and I wish nothing but good for him 
Love you to the Moon and to Saturn - sounds like it was written for me at about 7, Saturn was my favourite planet and this was the kind of music I listened to at that age, just v nostalgic
Verse 2 is just my favourite part of the whole song, the melody, hiding in the closet, everything. That youthful naivety really makes me think of my friends when i was little. Even when i had problems with my own dad i desperately wanted to rationalise my friend’s dad’s anger to protect her and she practically did come live with us.
Favourite lyric: And we can be pirates/Then you won’t have to cry/Or hide in the closet
august
Wow this one has about a million and one different meanings for me
Summer fling, being used, reminds me of a CERTAIN SOMEONE, took place either side of August especially with the alcohol imagery
Whispers of are you sure? - first relationship, so good at making me comfortable, let me take the lead
Will you call when you’re back at school? - first relationship, long distance
I remember thinkin’ I had you, both situations, the non-relationship thinking it could be more and the relationship thinking I wasn’t gonna lose him
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets - first relationship, the first time we had sex and just the first times we were able to relax and be open with each other, really nice innocent memory
Favourite lyric: August sipped away like a bottle of wine
this is me trying
Back to December vibes
Also sad vibes, no fixing what you’ve fucked up but you’ve gotta try
I don’t wanna relate too hard because relating to it means thinking about things I can't fix
Favourite lyric: They told me all of my cages were mental/So I got wasted like all my potential
illicit affairs
Make sure nobody sees you leave/hood over your head, keep your eyes down 
Feeling of hiding and being hidden, not sustainable
You feel like you aren’t worth loving, aren’t worth people knowing you love them
A drug that only worked/the first few hundred times 
Hmmmm Patch who the fuck could this apply to????
Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me and For you, I would ruin myself
Value yourself higher boy but yes about a certain someone
Favourite lyric: And clandestine meetings and stolen stares/they show their truth one single time/but they lie and they lie and they lie
invisible string
Green was the colour of the grass/Where I used to read at Centennial Park juxtaposed with introducing him to Centennial Park - GORGEOUS, and highkey relatable
A string that pulled me/out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar - it’s always nice to see how relationships that didn’t work out can set you up for a better future
Favourite lyric: hell was the journey but it brought me heaven
mad woman
They strike to kill, and you know I will - yess bitch be angry
And there’s nothing like a mad woman - the notes and the delivery on woman give me CHILLS
The Pre-Chorus is gold, really relate to intensifying aspects of you that are criticised because yeah, fuck them
Favourite lyrics: No one likes a mad woman/what a shame she went mad/you made her like that
epiphany
Does this make me cry almost every time I hear it? Yes
The first verse being about war also makes me think about the mythologisation of healthcare workers as heroes, allowing governments to sacrifice them as martyrs
The melody of the whole song is gorgeous
Favourite lyric: Something med school did not cover/someone’s daughter, someone’s mother/holds your hand through plastic now
the medics are equipped to deal with the practicalities of treating people but not the emotions and not the feeling of not being able to help or even let someone die with their loved ones
betty
I am not sapphic but this gives me major sapphic vibes and I would die for betty 
Give betty all the rights
Such a nostalgic vibe, fearless/fifteen/white horse/love story sound and i am HERE FOR IT
Also lots of red references and i love that
Really like figment of my worst intentions, turns a usually somewhat positive image upside down
In front of all your stupid friends? - really dude?? You cheated on her and now you’re insulting her friends??? What the fuck
Will it patch your broken wings? is a pretty line though
Favourite lyric: Would you tell me to go fuck myself?
peace
Natural assumption is that it’s about finding peace with a partner, i really like that it’s the opposite, committing to a relationship despite the chaos, despite the lack of peace
But I would die for you in secret - in the age of social media knowing someone has your back whether or not others are watching is so important (yes this sounds very pretentious i just mean like knowing that you’ve got that person no matter what is so important)
Favourite lyrics: Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other/Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother
hoax
The vibe is just very calm and melancholy and i rate that
I am ash from your fire - this is such a good rep of toxic relationships, defined in relation to your partner, burnt by their bright flames, left behind
Favourite lyric: You knew it still hurts underneath my scars/from when they pulled me apart/but what you did was just as dark
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andieperrie18 · 5 years
Text
Prodigal Daughter (Ben Hardy x Reader)
Prompt: Ben and the cast finds out reader is an expert drummer.
youtube
When your dog-loving boyfriend auditioned for Bohemian Rhapsody, he's been working hard to be able to play the percussive set as he wanted to honor the character the he was going to play in the movie. You supported him as a loving girlfriend would do although not that he didn't knew much about you but the fact that you were actually an expert on the drum set had him, his castmates and the two members of Queen in total awe as they eyed from across the stage set.
It happpened like this….
"Awe love, thanks coming here to support me." Ben had an arm around you while walking together, following his cast mates and the others to the stage. The iconic Live Aid was their first scene as Ben told you and for support, you went to watch him as you wanted to see the hard work of your dear lover.
"Love, you should rest for a bit. You've been playing for a quite a while." Your voice laced with concerned. You watch him shake his head no, "It's okay, love." He continous to do the drum routine.
You know that he will nail it. And what better way to boost him than be there and cheer for him.
You stood afar from the set as they shot the scene. You would catch him glancing at you with his biggest smiles as you would bob your head to his beat. The beat that you fell inlove with in your teen years. You didn't even notice the way your foot tap to the ground, each stomp so acute to the beat of the biggest drum.
"and….CUT!!"
You were the first to cheer as you ran to the stage to meet Ben, him doing the same by jumping off it with a large smile welcoming you in his muscly and comfy embrace. You could tell he was proud of himself.
"Babe! That was so cool!!!"
"I KNOW, I was like--" he babble with some sound effects, making some clear emphasis of what he had seen himself doing behind the drum set. Giggling at his action, you both walked together to the bottom of the stage where the peeps had gathered.
Exchanging different compliments, Ben and his castmates were rained with praises from Roger and Brian.
"My almost prodigal son is here." The lead drummer of Queen quoted earning a shy smile from the lad. The man has been a great role model for Ben as he almost stood as a father to him and to you aswell.
"Almost."
"I think we could all agree to that can we?" Gwilym said.
"Well, he did nail it. Good Job Benjamin. But I think Cardboard Ben is Better." Laughter bursted inside the loose circle, you laughing along Joe's affection to your boyfriend carbon copy in cardboard.
"Stop it, Joe. Your hurting my feelings here."
The chatter continued, talking and complementing Rami and Gwylim of them rocking their own routine.
"O My Goodness! Y/n M/n L/n. Is that really you?"
Now this somehow caught everyone's attention. Turning to the owner of the voice, you met the very, very familiar face of a female. It didn't made you hold back the smile the moment you met her gaze.
"JEM!! ITS YOU!!" Basically scurrying out of Ben's embrace, enveloping the girl in a bear hug, and vice versa.
Joe was the first to speak out of all the confused faces.
"Jem, love? You know Y/n?"
Ben was also confused as he knew all of your friends yet he wasn't very much familiar with this one but not in a bad way. The interaction you gave looked genuined and so did hers, it was as if you knew the said stranger almost by heart.
Jem, who is basically bear hugging you looked back to her boyfriend and said,
"OH, Joe, guys, remember when I said I was in a band?"
Everyone nodded.
"Well, you see we were a four person band and I know you have met my two other former band mates and I said I had lost contact with one of my members since our accounts have been hacked before. " you still had the girl in your grasp while looking at the small crowd cowering around the both of you.
"W-wait? Are you saying Y/n's your long lost band member?"
Jem nodded furiously at Lucy's question.
"Wow! Y/n, why didn't you say anything?"
Ben had a seemingly excited look on his face as if he was a boy who just found a treasure chest in his backyard. His eyes trained on you. Curiosity lingering on them.
"Well, nobody real asked about it and that was way too long ago." You trailed.
Joe suddenly pops up statement.
"Hold on a minute, Viola said that she was the pianist and Jax was the bassist. And you told me that you were lead vocalist…"
Ben was the next to speak, following his friend's statement.
"Which would mean that my girlfriend, is your band'--"
"Lead drummer? Yeah!"
The confidence your dear friend radiated as she began to brag you to your friends turning you into a shy fly. And the fact that your idol, nome other than another father figure aswell known as Roger Meddows Taylor, who is basically standing beside you is hearing all this things got you shy chills.
"Hey, Jem thats enough. Besides, as I said that was quite a long time ago and I don't think I could be that great on it anymore."
Jem gave you and eye roll, "Y/n, there's no way that you could loose your touch. Even if your mind doesn't remember, your hands and feet does. Also, I heard from Ben that he would sometimes catch you playing with your chopstick while doing the dishes. I should've known your dating the hunk of a man sooner." You rolled your eyes as Jem whispered the last sentence to you.
"How 'bout you plah for us love?" Roger placed a hand on your shoulder, handing you a pair of sticks. Your eyes turned into saucers.
"I-i don't know Mr. Taylor--" "Roger kiddo."
You smiled, "Roger, as much as I want to play. I not as good as I was before."
This time Ben talks you out.
"You can't be that bad love, we just wanna see you play. You can go do any song."
You looked at him, rather unsure of yourself. Sure, one can't unlearn what is learned. Everyone around you started to encourage you aswell. Ben's puppy eyes, was the last warning bell you could ever receive as you sighed and took the drum sticks. Suddenly feeling a spark in your palms after having contact with it after a long while.
"Go Y/N!!"
"YOU CAN DO IT LOVE!!"
You ran up to the stage, thanking yourself for wearing a pair jeans on this unexpected day. Jem skipped her way as she followed you and as if she already knew what song you were gonna play, she hurriedly plugged her phone on the jack and waited for you settle.
"Brings back memories doesn't it?" You shrugged off and smiled as you held the sticks in position.
"Damn, feeling deja vu here."
"You just miss it." Jem replied to you.
You stared past the drum set meeting Ben's eyes as he howls your name. Roger doing the same and so does the others around the stage. Father and boyfriend, cheering for you. What a heck of a combo.
You nodded to Jem who proceeded to play the track with a little low volume so it won't over power your routine.
"GO! Y/N GO!" she called out.
Taking a deep breath, you let yourself get lost on the music.
(0:00 to 0:15)
Like your hands had its own mind, it smashed the sticks tips to the first beats. Nearly missing the timing.
"That's a good start." You joked to yourself as you continue to the beat.
Eyeing back to back to your small audience. Their heads bobbing with your beat with smiles on their faces. Watching as your pace gradually quickened along the way.
(0:16 to 0:25)
"I think it's getting faster."
Rami's comment made Ben aware with his girlfriend beat. After having countless practice and hearing some bands drummer plays, Bon Jovi's song had some of the trickiest drum routines and he could tell how complicated the beat and yet, seeing you calmly beaming with each hit, your hands and arms swiftly moving to the next beat as if she practiced the whole routine for almost a week. Whats more was also, it looked quite your style.
Your face looked calm and composed with each beating.
He marvelled you and as if you were so used to the clashing and bashing, you didn't miss any timing.
(0:26 to 1:09)
No eyes left your figure while staying on your beat. Each pair beaming the quicker your arms switch directions as the chorus neared then, what happened next was a small yet seemingly gigantic movement when they caught it. That was the moment Ben knew that his girlfriend wasn't an amatuer drummer.
You twirled one drumstick in between your fingers as the other hit the cymbals, your lips mouthing the lyrics with a smile etched on it. Then slamming both down to the clash instrument.
"Ohhh!!!" "She twirled them! Did you see that?!"
Your hands swifting left to right like accelerate, still singing to the chorus. You drowned yourself to the symphony of each percussion that surrounded you like no one was watching, eyes closed you, staying with the beat.
(1:09 to 2:00)
Maintaining a heck of speed had Roger Taylor screaming his heart out for you. Calling your name, screaming 'thats my kid!!' Out of now where and jumping along the music. Like a proud dad, he cheered.
People were bouncing like they were in a rock concert. Joe was banging his head to your melody. Gwilym and Rami were arm in arm and singing to the song. Brian was dancing around with Lucy.
(2:00 to 2:03)
Your speed growing to a thunderous amount that had everyone going out of their mind while you sat there like you practiced the whole performance for weeks.
"Oh my god! She's freaking nailing it."
"UGH! Ben she's a freaking Queen!"
Ben was freaking out like everybody else while watching your routine with the sticks that even thought he can't do.
(2:03 to 2:32)
The crowd under the stage as the staff was singing along while you drum your heart out. Your movements were so in sync with what your mind had thought of in every sequence, executing everything perfectly. Continuing to the music, each beat was a perfect hit. You caught sight of Ben who had a hand on his forehead and another on his, face had saucer eyes and a slack jawed smile, staring at you.
You let yourself meet his gaze as he notice this.
You winked at him.
(2:34 til end.)
Ben's breath hitched as Roger muttered an 'oh my god' beside him as you threw a stick in the air, then catching it perfectly before hitting the beat perfectly once again.
Everyone was screaming after that, Joe was grabbing his permed hair as if he had witness something insane before him. Lucy could tell that after this mini concert, she won't be able to talk the next day.
Doing a couple more stick twirling and fast paced movements, you finally reach an end with a satisfying clash from the cymbals. Panting, you turned to you now large crowd, screaming for you.
"And there goes your Prodigal Daughter." Roger could only nod on Brian's statement.
Ben rushed up to stage and immediatly lifted you off the ground. Rambling how insanely amazing you were.
"You gotta teach me your ways love." He mumbled against your lips.
"As long as I get something in return." You said after quick peck on his lips.
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taehyungiestummy · 4 years
Text
Stuck -- Chapter Thirteen
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           “Good, good,” Mr. Son nods a few times as I walk over to grab my water bottle.
           “Thanks,” I sputter out, chugging water in the next second. I came to the studio with Taehyung as the sun was rising, and it’s well passed lunch now. The boys and I were able to stretch together before I was rushed off to do my training. A small lunch break was allowed with the boys, but then it was right back to work once the food was gone. Now, my legs are sore, my body is sweaty, and my brain is low in the tank. I’ve been practicing my dance almost nonstop, and I understand the boys a lot better because of it.
           “The boys will be impressed with this,” Mr. Son speaks up. “I think just a few more days, and you will be ready to show off your skill.”
           “Already?” I cough as I choke on some water. “It seems like I just started learning it.”
           “It’s been about a month,” he runs a hand over his beard. “You’ve worked hard, and that last run was almost flawless.”
           “The stumble was because my brain is firing on the last cylinder. I’ve never worked like this, and any work out has never lasted this long. It’s hard.”
           “You are doing great, and it’s no doubt that you are tired. It’s getting late. IN fact, I’m sure it’s dark out. Do some stretches and I’ll go get Taehyung.”
           “Oh, I’m sorry, if I sounded like I was complaining. I can go again if you want me to. I’m not out of energy just yet.”
           Mr. Son chuckles, “I’m sure you do, but you’ve been here all day. You need to go home, take a bath, eat dinner, and cuddle with your dogs and boyfriend.”
           I giggle, “That does sound nice.”
           “Stretch and Taehyung will be in to take you home,” he nods before exiting the room.
           I sigh, sinking down onto the floor and wiping my forehead with a towel. The effects of the day finally hitting me, and I’m glad that I get to go home.
           “Hey jagiya,” Taehyung enters the room, a tender smile on his face. “You look tired. I’ll have to carry you out to the car.”
           “What? No, you’re tired to,” I struggle to stand back up. “Gah, my legs,” I bend down and snatch up my water bottle.
           “I don’t think you can walk,” he smirks. “Come on, I’ll give you a piggy back ride, and we can pan what to do when we get home.”
           I sigh, allowing Taehyung to help me climb onto his back. “It’s a good thing all I brought was my water bottle.”
           Taehyung gives my thighs a squeeze, bouncing me a few times. “I have arm muscles. I can carry a lot so don’t you worry. And, you are light.”
           I giggle, giving Taehyung a kiss on the cheek. “You are very sweet.”
           “A man is supposed to take care of his girl,” he gets us through the door of the practice room, heading for the elevator.
           “Don’t you have anything?”
           “Jungkook is bringing my stuff down,” Taehyung steps inside the elevator, pushing the button to get to the bottom level.
           “Nice of him. Is anyone else leaving now?”
           “A few of them, yes. I was thinking that some days, like Jimin and Jungkook could come over after practice. Stay the night. If you were okay with it.”
           “Of course, I’d be okay with it. Just not tonight.”
           The elevator hits the ground, and the doors open shortly after. Taehyung steps, walking for the front door. When we get outside, the cold air hits me, and I’m not shocked the stars are out.
           “It’s so pretty out,” I yawn, taking in the stars.
           “What do you want to do when we get home?” Taehyung begins his way to our car.
           “Take a bath while you make me dinner,” I wiggle my fingers at Jungkook standing by our care.
           “Anything you are craving?” Taehyung unlocks the car, scaring Jungkook.
           “Kookie, are yo alright?” I carefully slide off Taehyung’s back, leaning on the passenger side door. “And no, Tae. Make me whatever you feel like.”
           “I’m okay, adorable girl,” Jungkook flashes me a big smile. “Here, hyung,” he hands Taehyung a backpack.
           “Thanks man,” Taehyung pats the younger boy’s shoulder. “I need to get my princess home to rest.”
           “Of course,” Jungkook steps up to me. “Did you work hard today, Amber?”
           I puff my cheeks out a bit, nodding a few times.
           “I get to make her dinner, and she’s taking a bath,” Taehyung has a boxy smile on his face.
           “Sounds nice,” Jungkook pokes my cheek to force the air out. “Good way to relax. When we come over next time, video games will be our way to relax.”
           “I bet,” I yawn, opening the car door. “Tae, let’s go, please,” I pout. “Kookie, I love you, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow. Send my love to the others.”
           “Love you too,” Jungkook pats my head. “Go get some rest, and I’ll let the boys know.”
           I climb into the car, shutting the door behind me.
           Taehyung and Jungkook talk quietly between themselves for a few minutes. Then Jungkook walks off, and Taehyung climbs into the driver seat.
           “What was that about?” I yawn, looking at my boyfriend with hooded eyes.
           “Just boy talk,” he places a hand on my thigh. “Nothing to worry about. You just need to focus on the relaxing bath you will get when we get home. One day, we’ll take one together.”
           I smile, feeling my cheeks heat up, “Sure, we can do that some other time. Just, take us home. I’ve missed you, and want to spend the few hours before bed with you.”
           “Your wish is my command, princess.”
********
           “Little one, are you performing for us today?” Yoongi comes up behind me, massaging my shoulders.
           I melt into the boy’s piano fingers; the knots in my shoulders unraveling in a moment. “I am. I’ve practiced hard, and I’m ready to show you all.”
           After two more days of intense dance practice, Mr. Son and I decided it was time to show the boys what I learned. It was also the perfect time because we leave for Japan in a couple days.
           “I look forward to it,” Yoongi kisses my cheek, rubbing the tension out of my back before walking away.
           “There’s my cute jagiya,” Taehyung beams as he walks into the room with the rest of the boys.
           “Here I am,” I raise my hands, nervously giggling.
           “You sound nervous,” Namjoon shakes his head. “How many times do I have to tell you that we love and accept you for you?”
           “More, because I can’t seem to trust it,” I make sure my ponytail is tight and in place. “But, it is working. If slowly.”
           “You’ve grown a lot, kid,” Hoseok smiles as the boys begin taking seats on the floor. “Just, keep it up. We’ll keep helping as much as we can.”
           “Okay Amber, are you ready?” Mr. Son speaks up.
           “Ready,” I nod, moving to the center of the room. “I see Jimin and Seokjin are on recording duty.”
           “Of course,” Jimin and Seokjin lower their phones slightly.
           “We need to have this moment recorded for future viewing,” Jimin gives me a wink. “I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”
           “Quiet please, boys,” Mr. Son says. “Amber, let’s go.”
           The music starts up, and I take on my dancing person. ‘Miss Right’ is what starts out the routine. I strut around, swinging my hips and blowing kisses to the boys. Then Namjoon’s rap starts up. I point at my temple when he says mind, and run my hands over my sides when he says body.
           The boys whistle at my actions, cheering me on. Taehyung’s cheeks even have a light pink tint to them.
           As the rap continues, I do body rolls at the more suggestive lyrics. Everything else is a lewd ballot-type dance. Then, before the chorus can start, it switches songs. As the first born singer is sung out, I put my hand up in a stop gesture. Then the fun begins. I let the chorus run it’s course, turning my hand and doing a come hither motion with my index finger. A laugh escapes my lips before I can stop the action. Yoongi’s rap begins, and that’s when I start dancing the chorus bits from BTS’s songs. ‘No More Dream’ melts into ‘N.O.’ and then ‘War of Hormone melts into ‘Danger.’ This is followed by ‘I Need U,’ ‘Dope,’ ‘Run,’ and lastly ‘Baepsae.’ I may have learned a lot of choreography of the boys, but those were my favorites.
           The end segment truly is a mash-up of ‘Born Singer’ and ‘Miss Right.’ I run my hands over my sides, body rolling once again. Some cute moves thrown in there. Then, as the song is coming to an end, I do the jump I’ve worked hard to perfect. I push off my right foot, and as my body stays parallel to the ground, I spin over, landing on my left foot. With a small twist, I am facing the boys, my hand reaching out for them. The song cuts out, and the boys burst into cheering. Claps, voiced praises, and big smiles.
           It’s then that I notice the huge smile spread on my face. Makes it easier to breathe as my mouth is open.
           Yoongi took his phone out at some point, and looks to be taking pictures. That gummy smile I love on his face.
           My gaze flickers to my boyfriend. His face more serious than I imagined it would be, but with a smirk on his lips. There’s an intensity in his eyes I’ve never seen before and can’t identify. He is up and striding over to me in the next second. A man on a mission to do something to me as the boys call out to him.
           “Tae?” I whisper.
           His hands raise up to cup my face; the palm of his hand on my cheeks, thumbs by my nose, and his four other fingers stretching into my hair. Then his lisp crash onto mine. The boys whistle as Taehyung presses his body closer to mine. My hands gripping his shoulders, so I don’t fall. He runs his tongue over my lips, but pulls away before he loses control, resting his forehead on mine and rubbing his nose across mine. “I love you so much. My god, I love you so very much. I knew, but seeing you do what I love so much right now, it like really set in. I’m beyond happy right now. Words can’t describe what I am feeling. So much love for you.”
           I giggle, pressing my lips to his for a quick second. “I love you too, Tae. So very much. Telling each other always makes me feel so happy. I love you.
           “I love you,” he lovingly smiles.
           “I love them and hate them,” Jimin groans.
           “But, they’re both so happy,” Seokjin replies. “Just be happy for them.”
           “We’re happy for them,” Jungkook sighs. “Sad for ourselves.”
           “Mr. Son,” Taehyung brings his face away from mine, looking over my head. “Can you make a dance for my jagi and me?”
           “Well,” Mr. Son chuckles. “I could. I’ll think about it.”
           “Hear that?” Taehyung wraps his arms around my middle, lifting me up to spin me around. “We might dance together. For real.”
           I burst into laughter, “I heard, Tae. Please, put me down. You have to practice.”            He wiggles me a bit before setting me down. “You’ll be staying here today, right?”
           “Yes,” I run my hand through his hair. “Now, get your ass in gear. I don’t want to be here all day.”
           He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Okay, let’s get our asses in gear then.”
********
           “It’s amazing that we are going to Japan,” I giggle, leaning into Taehyung. “Plane rides are fun when I’m with my favorite person,” I look up to see him looking down at me. “I love you.”
           Taehyung goofily smiles, causing me to do the same. “I love you, princess.” He taps my nose, “Why are you so cute and energetic? Not that I mind. It warms my heart.”
           “I don’t know,” I poke his tummy a few times. “Maybe it’s because of what you said after my dance. It’s made me so happy. I want to me more like you. Giddy a lot.”
           “I like it,” he kisses my forehead. “Sleepy, ready for pillow talk is also one of my favorites.”
           “I like you all the time. But not when you are angry,” I pout.
           “Aw, baby, I try not to get angry,” he runs his thumb over my pushed out bottom lip. “I’ve been pretty annoyed at times, and acted like a child, that is for sure.”
           I make an attempt to bite his thumb, but he’s too fast. “I’ll try not to annoy you then.”
           “You’d have to do a lot to get on my nerves,” he gives me a quick kiss.
           “Well, I can get pretty can’t-stop-talking rambles sometimes. I’m sure you’ll get annoyed at me one day.”
           “Jagiya, don’t think that way. You just have to be careful when I’m tired, but we are usually tired at the same time, so no need to worry.”
           “I guess,” I fix my glasses, so they don’t slide off my face. “It’s so nice flying first class this year. It is so nice up here.”
           “Only the best for my princess,” he giggles, pressing another kiss to my lips. “And we make more money now since we are a lot more popular. So we get to do more and travel in better style.”
           “That makes sense,” I nod a few times. “Say, can we do a Hangul lesson?”
           “Ah,” Taehyung’s face lights up with a big smile. “Yes. Get your notebook out, and we will get a few lessons in on this ride.”
           “Sweet,” I sit up, reaching under my chair to get my backpack.
           “Too bad you can’t sit on my lap,” he runs his tongue over his lips. “It’s easier for me to help with the symbols.”
           “And you are a pervert,” I slap his arm.
           “You like it too,” He’s leaned into me, lips brushing against my ear as he whispers. “You like being that close to me. One day we’ll be as close as two people can be.”
           My face is on fire, and I can feel the tips of my ears heating up. “Oppa,” I whine. “Tae, please, my face is so hot.”
           “Sorry,” he kisses my cheek, ruffling my hair. “I’ll keeps those comments to alone time. When you are on my lap.”
           I shove my boyfriend, pulling the notebook I use for Hangul out of my backpack along with two pencils. “You are terrible.”
           “Terribly lovable,” he grabs a pencil. “Does that work?”
           “You are lovable,” I open up my notebook to a blank page. “So very loveable.”
           “I’ll show you all the love I have for you one day. Hopefully sooner than later.”
           “Tae,” I groan, rolling my eyes. “I said no more.”
           “Come on, you must think about us like that sometimes.”
           “Really? Well, I mean, I, I,” I cough to clear my throat of nothing. “Tae, this is embarrassing.”
           “You know I do,” he pinches my cheek. “It’s okay. Natural even.”
           “I am an ARMY, I see things, and I know I can get it if I want. But, it’s too soon.”
           “You are beating around the bush,” he messes with my glasses. “Do you or don’t you?”
           “I’m not talking about this,” I look down at my notebook.
           “You have,” he gasps. “Princess, I knew you could be naughty.”
           “What is the symbol for rain?”
           “Excuse me?”
           “You were giving me a lesson. I can just play video games if you don’t want to teach me.”
           “Here, this is rain,” he leans over, slowly writing out the symbol.
           “I think about you all the time. Sometimes cute, sometimes fighting, and yes, even sometimes as  intimate as two people can be. Now drop it for the time being.”
           “After a kiss,” Taehyung grabs my chin, turning me face towards him. “Not so innocent princess.” His lips mold with mine.
           I pull away after a moment. “Let’s kiss after some more progress with Hangul.”
           “Of course, jagi,” he pecks my nose. “Now, do rain a few times for me.”
********
           “There’s something about shopping with you guys that makes me enjoy it,” I boxy smile around at all the boys.
           The eight of us are walking down the street of a shop-packed street. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Namjoon are leading the pack. The three of them glance back at me before going back to their conversation. Jungkook and Jimin are coming up the back, poking my sides when I look back at them. Then, I have my left arm linked with Yoongi, and Taehyung is pressed up against my right side.
           “You are spending too much time with Tae,’ Yoongi shakes his head. “Your smile is looking like his. Rectangle and big.”
           “Isn’t it the cutest?” Taehyung giggles. “She tries to smile like me, and I just melt inside.” He adjusts the bags in his hands.
           We’ve been out shopping for a good part of the day. It feels like we’ve been in hundreds of stores, and dinner is approaching fast. I’ve bought a good amount of things; all being held by Taehyung. New clothes, plushies, jewelry for Emily and Nari, video games, manga’s, and notebooks. Everyone has a few bags with similar things, and will end up with a few more before shopping ends.
           “Amber is always adorable,” Jungkook speaks up.
           “Little ones, you have to mimic me somehow,” Yoongi pinches my arm.
           “Aw, Yoongi-oppa, are you jealous?” I chuckle.
           “Cutie, that’s brave,” Jimin says.
           “When I sleep, I curl up into a ball, just like you,” I rest my head on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I rap, like you.”
           “You both wear glasses,” Namjoon breaks into the conversation.
           “All of us that need glasses are wearing our glasses today,” I smile. “Tae, Yoongi, Jin, and me. I like it. Glasses are cool.”
           “If you say so,” Seokjin chuckles.
           “I’m getting more used to them,” Taehyung sighs. “Thank you princess, for all the compliments when I wear them.”
           “You’re welcome babe,” I lean over and rest my head on Taehyung’s arm. “We all deserve to be confident wearing whatever we choose.”
           “That’s the same reason we praise you, kid,” Hoseok glances back at me. “It’s all true, but how often we voice our thoughts is more to you.”
           “And I will be grateful for the rest of my life thanks to you guys.”
           “We love you,” Jimin speaks up. “And you love us.”
           “I do, that’s true,” I smile, pointing up at the sky for a few seconds. “Yet, only three of you have ever told me that you love me directly. Tae, Yoongi, and Kookie. Do you other four really love me?”
           “Of course,” Hoseok looks back at me, a big smile on his face. I love you, kid. Like another sister, just younger.”
           “I love you like a sister too,” Seokjin says. “As I should since Nari thinks of you as a little sister. One day, I’ll marry her, and then you’ll really be my little sister.”
           “Ah,” I squeal, standing up straighter. “You think about marrying Nari? That’s cute and the best.”
           Seokjin laughs, “Well, we are living together now, so the next step would be marriage, in a weird out of order kind of way. Same for you and Tae.”
           “One day,” I giggle as Taehyung kisses my temple.
           “I love you too, Amber,” Namjoon nods. “In the same way that Emily does.”
           “And I love you too,” Jimin whines. “I just didn’t want to say anything because of Tae.”
           “Because of Tae what?” Taehyung glares back at the boy.
           “Babe,” I run my free hand up his arm.
           “Well, you get jealous and I didn’t want you to hate me or something,” Jimin replies. “Last year you hated Amber complimenting me and me her. I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to take her.”
           “See Taehyung, everyone respects our relationship,” I poke my boyfriend in the side. “I love all of you too.”
           “I’m mature not,” Taehyung puffs out his chest. “I know that my jagi loves me, and I love her. And it’s a love that’s different than all of you. We get to kiss, and sleep together, and be close in any clothing.”
           “Such a dork,” Yoongi sighs, rolling his eyes. “I love you, little one, as the sister I wanted. The younger sibling I can protect.”
           “I love you,” Jungkook stammers out. “Like, a friend would. I don’t see you as a sister.”
           “And I don’t see you as a big brother,” I shrug. “So, it works itself out.”
           “Where are we going?” Taehyung asks.
           “I was going to ask you all where we should go,” Namjoon says.
           “One last store,” I yawn. “We’ve been out all day, and my feet are starting to kill me.”
           “I’ll carry you,” Jungkook blurts out.
           “No, Kookie, you won’t do that,” Seokjin sighs.
           “Yeah, I should carry her,” Jimin chuckles.
           “No,” I laugh, shaking my head. “No one is carrying me. Now, Namjoon, I think our last stop should be a music store.”
           “I agree,” Yoongi tugs me closer to him. “Music to end the day.”
           The conversation between the group lulls, and I am left to my thoughts. All the people rushing around the boys as they surround me. The eight of us look a bit out of place, but we don’t really care. We just want to have fun on one of our only days to go out and enjoy ourselves.
           I’m snapped out of my thoughts as Yoongi tugs me into a store that looks to specialize in music. The group splits up, and I find myself alone with Taehyung for the first time all day.
           “I can hold some bags, Tae,” I reach for the many bags in my boyfriend’s hands. “Oppa, don’t be so stubborn.”
           “A man carries his lady’s bags,” Taehyung smiles down at me. “Don’t worry, I’m strong.”
           “How come you keep referring to me as a lady?” I begin looking through albums.
           “Does it bother you?”
           “Makes me feel old,” I shrug. “I like the other pet names you have given me.”
           “Aw, then I’m sorry princess. I’ll stop calling you lady. Maybe I will start to call you wifey.”
           I awkwardly giggle. “Sorry, I just got embarrassed.”
           “Aw, no worries, jagi. It was cute. Your cheeks are a bit red. I can’t believe the effect I still have on you. I always want to have this effect on you.”
           “I’m sure you will,” I pull an album out to cheek it out. “Everyday my heart races a little bit when I first see you in the morning. Then, I calm down, realizing that we are together. You compliments just make my mind stutter because I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
           “It’ll be worse when we are closer. Once we’ve gone all the way. I’m becoming more confident with each day I am with you.”
           “Yeah, now my ears feel hot. Thanks,” I stick my tongue out at him.
           “You’re welcome,” he smirks, touching his tongue to mine for a second.
           “Tae,” I slap his arm.
           “What? It’s just like French kissing.”
           I roll my eyes, going back to the albums. “Still.”
           “You liked it,” he chuckles. “Find the albums you want, and then we can join up with the others. I want to get back to the hotel to cuddle with you for a bit.”
           I smile, “That sounds nice. I’ll hurry up, so that we can get to cuddling sooner.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hope you enjoyed reading! I debated if I should make this a long chapter, or just move the last scene to the next chapter, but I thought, better to go long than short. :D
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gofordrakgo · 4 years
Text
Dwelling Chapter Eleven
“ 'See, now you’re cooking,’ he chuckled in the brief moment of silence before the cassette clicked and the next song started. ‘I am not,’ she insisted. He bit his lip, then smirked at her and turned up the music. ‘What?’ He mockingly called over the blaring lyrics about running away that made her face heat up even before he quipped, ‘Sure you never heard this before? Seems like it could’ve been your theme song.’ ”
Dwelling Summary
Dwelling Chapter One
Dwelling Chapter Ten
Dwelling Chapter Twelve
Despite her best efforts, by the time Drew completed his homework and she’d looked it over for him he still insisted she had to help make dinner. She considered locking herself in her room, well, as much as she could lock herself in a room that didn’t properly lock, ultimately deciding against it when she realized it would only do more to make her a child in his eyes. 
That didn’t stop her from glaring at him while she sat cross-armed on the counter. “You do realize that it was veggie fried rice that I gave food poisoning to my whole family with, right? And you’re adding chicken, which is even more likely to make us sick.”
“For goodness sake, Shea,” Drew sighed, as he wandered past her with a frying pan. “For someone who claims not to be afraid of anything, you do worry an awful lot.”
“I’m not worried,” she lied. “I just don’t feel like throwing up.”
He leaned onto the counter, propping his chin on his hand. “Does that mean if you cooked just for me it would be fine?”
She shoved his face away with an open palm, laughing, “I don’t need to deal with you being a huge baby when you get sick. So no, not fine.”
Fixing his glasses Drew stated, almost smugly, “I once ate an entire bowl of raw cookie dough and didn’t get sick! I think I’ll be just fine.”
“You are the biggest dork I’ve ever met. You don’t really think that’s brag-worthy, do you?”
“I’m not bragging! I’m just saying, ” he whined. “I’m not going to get sick from ingredients I know are good. And I’ll be right here making sure everything is cooked through and going fine. Please, Shea?”
“No.”
“Please ?”
“Didn’t I tell you before that the puppy dog look doesn’t work for you?” 
“I hoped you would change your mind.” He shrugged and turned away to point out a knob on the stove. “Would you turn the stove on for me? It’s that one there.”
“I will not.”
“Shea!”
“If I’m going to burn the building down I’d rather it be via an undetectable source.” She shoved a flaming hand toward him, but he merely blinked and took a small shuffle away. “I’m not in the mood to get sent home having been caught committing arson.”
“Would you quit being ridiculous and just turn the stove on?” Drew snapped at her, knocking her arm away at the elbow. 
She didn’t budge. “I thought you liked to cook.”
“I do!”
“Then why make me do it?”
“I’m not always going to be here, you know. And– and… And it would be nice to have a little help once in a while if you’re going to be staying here! The stove?”
She glared while he ranted, half-tempted to kick him. “I hope you enjoy prison. At least it’ll be better for you than being forced to go back home will be for me.” 
His worried, guilty, look almost made up for his forcing her to help. She slid begrudgingly off her spot on the counter and twisted the knob, careful to leave it on the lowest possible setting. 
“I need it higher than that,” he instructed, “At least medium heat to start.”
“If you want it any higher than that you’re gonna have to turn it up yourself. I’m not doing it.” 
He glared at her for a long moment and she stared back, neither of them willing to give in and be the one to turn the heat up. With a roll of his eyes he finally caved, and practically slapped the knob to a higher setting.   
“Was that so difficult?”
“It’ll be difficult to get out of here when the place goes up in flames.”
“Shea,” he whined. “Stop that!”
“Freaking you out?” 
“Yes!” 
“Good.” He whined her name again and she forced herself to stifle a laugh. “Didn’t you say you had music you wanted me to listen to?”
Drew gasped and without actually responding dashed around the counter and threw open his bedroom door. She hopped off the counter, intent on following him to get a sneak peek inside his room. The stove caught her gaze as she took a step. An image of the kitchen catching on fire while she snuck up on Drew formed in her mind and with a huff she returned to her spot, glaring at the stove. 
Of course, there wasn’t even so much as a flicker of smoke in the time it took for him to return. Obviously giddy, he plopped a boombox onto the counter next to her. He held a cassette tape box out to her with an overdramatic flourish. 
“Would you like to do the honors?” 
 She held out her hand, and he dropped the tape into her open palm. She turned it over, inspecting the woman on the cover. Her smudged black eyeliner and choppy dark hair intrigued her. Maybe - maybe - Drew had actually been right in his “very cool” comment. 
She tapped the tape out of the box and turned to pop it into the boombox. Drew hit play before she could, evidently more excited to share the music with her than she actually was to listen. The stove still burning away had too much of her attention, and she debated reaching over and turning it off while his attention was on the music. The drumbeat blaring through the speakers startled her out of following the impulse.
She gaped at Drew, drumming along in the air, his hair bouncing as he nodded his head in time with the music. She resisted the urge to giggle, reminding herself again that there was no way she could have a crush on him. He stopped just before the lyrics began when his glasses nearly flew off his face. 
“Come on,” he laughed, his face red with exhilaration. He repeated himself, louder to be heard over the music, and held a hand out to her. His smile started to fade when she hesitated, but she smacked her hand into his before it could turn into a genuine frown. Beaming yet again he pulled her off the counter and she let him spin her around, despite the move not fitting the music. 
Before she knew what was happening he’d dropped her hand and whirled around. She tapped her foot to the music, as she watched him. He turned back to her, a spatula clutched in his hand like a microphone, crooning along to the chorus of the song. 
She pushed his arm away when he held the spatula out to her to sing - not that she was too embarrassed to sing in front of him or anything. “I don’t know the lyrics,” she reminded him. He shrugged and brought the spatula back to his lips, dancing around her to pry the fridge door open.
She shifted back and started to reach out to turn the stove off. He turned back to her faster than she would have expected, and, tsking, latched onto her wrist. Throwing the package of raw chicken onto the counter, he pulled her away from the stove. Just before she could collide into him, which she wouldn’t have been particularly upset about, he moved, leaving her standing in front of the open fridge.
He listed off the ingredients he’d need out of the fridge and quite literally danced away before she could protest. With a roll of her eyes, she set about the easy task of finding what he’d asked for. 
The song ended just as she placed everything onto the counter for him, glaring at the smug smile on his face. “See, now you’re cooking,” he chuckled in the brief moment of silence before the cassette clicked and the next song started. 
“I am not,” she insisted. 
He bit his lip, then smirked at her and turned up the music. “What?” He mockingly called over the blaring lyrics about running away that made her face heat up even before he quipped, “Sure you never heard this before? Seems like it could’ve been your theme song.”
She shoved his shoulder, careful not to push him hard enough to make him stumble into the knife resting precariously on the cutting board behind his back. “Shut up,” she shouted over to him, shaking her head. 
He passed the knife to her, which she took from him on instinct more than anything else - being stabbed more than once had left her plenty wary of men holding any sort of blade. “Cut up the chicken. Bite-size pieces work best,” he instructed. She thrust the handle of the blade back towards him. 
“No. No way .”
He held his hands away from the knife and took a step back. “All you have to do is cut it. There’s nothing you can do that could mess that up bad enough it can’t be fixed.”
She tried to make him take the knife back again, and when he wouldn’t she dropped it on the counter. “What if I give you radiation poisoning or something?” she snapped, offering up a glowing hand as lack-luster proof she could make him sick.
“Then I’m just as much at risk standing next to you as I would be eating something you cooked. Go on.” He pushed the knife back into her other hand and quickly stepped away so she couldn’t give it back.
All she could do was hope she at least looked frightening, glaring at him with a knife clutched in one hand, flames flickering around the other. She must not have, given the way he didn’t so much as flinch as he stared back. 
“Not really the chicken I feel like cutting with this knife right now,” she grumbled. He reached to turn down the music, his eyebrow quirked inquisitively. She didn’t repeat herself.
“Come on,” he insisted, though his voice had grown gentle and encouraging, taking a bit of the teasing edge off. “I promise you, you can do this. You’re not going to mess up anything. And even if you do, so what?”
She felt her face flush again, torn between embarrassment over her own stubbornness and embarrassment over the idea of having him watch her attempt something she knew she was terrible at. She considered throwing the knife back onto the counter and staying in her room until the meal was cooked… or maybe after he’d finished eating and gone back to his room just to avoid having to look at him while she felt so flustered. But she also considered how immature that would seem to him- even if he had been the one dancing around the kitchen using cooking utensils like microphones like a tween girl singing into her hairbrush. 
“I’m only going to do this because stabbing things is fun,” she told him finally, deciding that giving in and letting them both get food poisoning was better than looking like a child in his eyes any more than she already did. 
She’d half expected him to confiscate the knife and kick her out of the kitchen but he only leaned back against the counter with an obnoxiously satisfied look on his face. “That’s the spirit,” he laughed. As she began cutting up the chicken - careful not to do so in a way that would make her look like an idiot, but not so careful that he didn’t remind her at least once that fingers don’t grow back - he began to tell her about the first meal he ever cooked. 
“Honestly,” he admitted with a small shake of his head, “I don’t really remember the story that well myself. I was only seven or so, after all.” 
Shea glanced over to him just briefly, long enough to let him know she was listening to him over the quiet, energetic hum of Joan Jett playing in the background. He leaned back against the counters on his elbows, watching her cut the chicken carefully. She almost expected him to push her to the side and take over, and she all but hoped he’d try one of those cheesy moves and step closer to her to guide her hands in the proper movements. She almost drove the knife into her own head just to get rid of that thought. It would’ve been such a sleazy thing for him to do, and she hated herself for being simultaneously relieved and disappointed that he didn’t try. 
“But my mother likes to tell the story whenever family comes to visit,” Drew continued quietly. “Apparently I had been out playing with some of the neighborhood children all afternoon - three children around my age who moved away later that year. Mother tells me that the youngest used to follow me everywhere I went, that she cried when I got on the bus to school every morning, begging to go with me.”
She poked his arm with the handle of the knife, teasing, “Your first girlfriend?” She hated the way those words felt coming out of her mouth and hated more that she felt anything towards them at all.
He only scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t even remember what her name was,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I mostly just called her ‘baby’, according to Mother. ‘Bee’ for short, actually.”
“Aww, how cute. Pet names.”
“Just cut the chicken,” he grumbled and crossed his arms, glaring half-heartedly at her through lopsided glasses. She stuck her tongue out at him, not pointing out that she was nearly finished, reluctant to draw his gaze towards the massacred chunks of chicken. “As I was saying, I’d spent all afternoon playing with those children, and by the time I went in, I was caked head-to-toe in mud. Mud pies,” he laughed quietly under his breath, and she glanced over again, not sure it was all that happy of a laugh. His smile had dropped a little, his eyes darker than she’d seen them yet, sending a strange, almost nervous feeling through her chest. 
“My parents banned me from making mud pies when I was eight,” she interrupted, unwilling to let herself dwell on whether or not this was actually a happy memory for him. “Merrick chucked a bunch at this kid. Broke one of his birdhouses. We got sent home before dessert and I was forever banned. I didn’t even know why we’d gotten in trouble in the first place until the next time the kid came to our house.”
“I don’t believe you didn’t throw the first one,” Drew laughed, the smile back on his face. She felt her shoulders relax, releasing tension she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I just don’t believe it.”
 Shea shrugged. “I liked Wren. He was weird, yeah, almost as much of a dork as you, but whenever he came over to build a birdhouse or something he’d let me paint it. It used to piss Merrick off because he swore he’d paint it better, but he asked me to do it anyway.” 
“Your first boyfriend?” Drew mocked, throwing her earlier question back at her.
Likewise, she only scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a creep. Wren was Heath’s friend. He used to babysit me and the twins.”
“So, your first crush then.” 
“Not even close.”
“Yeah, who was it then?” Drew asked, leaning forward. His teasing smirk made her blush and drop the knife to put a hand on his chest and push him away.
“Tell you mine if you tell me yours,” she wagered. 
He rocked back on his heels and snatched the cutting board, moving it behind him, then turned and pressed a green bottle into one of her hands, a small measuring spoon into the other. “Olive oil. About a teaspoon and a half, give or take. Into the pan,” he instructed, nodding his head toward the stove which she’d all but forgotten was on and potentially moments away from catching the kitchen on fire. 
“Not happening. I cut the chicken already. That’s enough.”
He regarded her carefully, his hand slowly lifting to take the bottle from her own. But then he shook his head and dropped his hand back to his side repeating, “Teaspoon and a half.”
She kicked out at his shin lightly but, obviously expecting it, he jumped out of the way and stuck his tongue out at her. Carefully pouring the olive oil into the measuring spoon, she asked, “So? Who was it?”
“I asked you first.”
“So?”
“So, if you want mine you have to say yours.” 
She didn’t answer for a moment, too busy cringing as she dumped the olive oil into the pan. She didn’t exactly expect the oven to explode or anything, and she didn’t really want it to, but she almost wished it would just to prove to him that making her cook was a terrible idea. It didn’t.
“I don’t know what his name is,” she admitted. “Just some actor from some old western movie my dad used to watch with me whenever I got sick as a kid.” The first and only time she’d come down with a cold since the comet struck she’d spent the day stuck in Go Tower, sniffling and sneezing and begging her father to watch the movie with her. She’d spent the night crying to herself when he never came, more terrified than anything by the realization that Shego mattered more than Shea. She almost wanted to blurt that fact out too, but instead, she added, “Wasn’t even a good movie.” 
“Now that I think about it, I don’t know what the name of my first crush is either.” He poured the chicken into the pan, though she couldn’t tell if it was because he’d finally taken pity on her or he’d just forgotten - either way, she wasn’t going to protest. “I don’t even know if you could call it a crush,” he added under his breath. “Yeah? Why not?”
His face flushed again when he realized she’d heard him. Drew squeaked awkwardly and explained in a rush, “I didn’t feel like getting up to change the channel one night as a kid and… And well– um– it’s… Let’s just say it wasn’t particularly appropriate for a six-year-old to watch.” 
Swallowing the laughter bubbling up her throat, she feigned naivety. “What do you mean? Why not?”
“Don’t try that with me,” Drew muttered. “We both know you know why not.”
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
“Nngh– then– Fine! Good! You don’t get to, either!” Just then he looked more likely to catch on fire than she was, cooling off only as he tossed a bag of frozen vegetables at her, demanding she add a cup’s worth of them to the pan. She only realized she’d done what he’d asked without arguing when she turned around and caught his smug grin.
“Shut up,” she said before he could speak. He raised his hands up in surrender, but the grin stayed plastered to his face. She tossed a stray carrot chunk that had missed the pan at his face. “Didn’t take you for the frozen vegetable type.”
“I couldn’t even afford fresh vegetables before you showed up. I certainly can’t afford it now.”
“Well, as long as you couldn’t afford it before I have no guilt over that.” 
“You shouldn’t,” he told her, suddenly serious. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.”
She couldn’t do anything other than look away from his earnest stare, feeling her whole body warm over and flush. Drew wrapped a hand around her wrist. She let herself be pulled, stumbling toward him, shocked and more flustered than a moment before, only to have him plant his other hand on her shoulder, stopping her before she could collide into him - for the second time that evening. He pressed a wooden spoon into her hand and physically turned her toward the stove, instructing her to stir what was in the pan while he prepared the rice. 
She shot a glare at his back when he let her go and turned away, unsure if she was more annoyed at him for continuing to make her cook or at herself for being upset that he didn’t pull her into him. “You never finished your story,” she noted a minute later, stepping away from the stove as he began to add the rice to the pan. Her voice was colder than she meant for it to be.
His brow furrowed together in confusion, his eyes darting upward as if the answer to all the world’s questions were written on his ceiling. “What story?” he finally asked. 
“First meal, mud pies, that one.”
“Oh! Right! Where was I?” 
“Um… I think just… going home covered in mud.”
“Yes! Keep stirring,” he instructed, waving her back in front of the stove. He didn’t even wait for her to begrudgingly return to her spot in front of the stove before he continued his story. “Well, my mother had planned to make chicken pot pie, but she… well, she’d gotten everything out, but ended up getting distracted and wasn’t able to cook.”
“Why not?” Shea pried.
He just shook his head, dismissively. “It was already getting late, and the girl had followed me inside, crying because she was hungry - I suppose she could have gone home at that point, but we were kids. My mother says I used to do anything to make sure she was happy. And mother’s recipe book was right there on the counter.”
He paused a moment to take the pan off the stove, and she happily relinquished the wooden spoon. “Are we done now?” she asked, practically begging.
Sighing, he nodded and dumped the food into two bowls she hadn’t seen him get out in the first place. “Yes, we’re done. Here.” He passed one of the two bowls over to her. 
She trailed a step behind him on the way to the table, poking the rice with her fork apprehensively. “I’m not sure I want to eat this,” she told him as she took her seat, and was immediately met with the sight of him rolling his eyes and shoveling a massive oversized bite into his mouth. She waited for him to spit out the food - or at least choke on an undercooked grain of rice or something, but he didn’t.
“It’s good,” he said, shooting her a grin that made her roll her own eyes to avoid blushing. 
“Sure, it was last time too,” she muttered, pushing the rice from side to side. 
“Oh, just try a bite!”
With a groan, she took a bite. Damn him, it was good. “The rice is chewy,” she complained. It wasn’t. 
“Liar! It is not.” 
She smirked at him, taking another hesitant bite. 
“It’s good,” Drew repeated. “You didn’t kill either of us, or blow up the building, or anything.”
“Yeah, well…” 
He grinned at her again, more smugly, as she took her third bite. 
She was halfway through the bowl, listening to Drew finish his story about how his mother caught him and the young girl throwing as much dirt into the chicken pot pie as they did food, when something in the kitchen caught her eye, and she tapped her fork against the table to get his attention, feigning relaxation she no longer felt. “Hey, Drew?”  
He glanced up at her, humming his acknowledgment.
“Your paper towels are on fire,” she informed him, gesturing toward the smoking roll, quickly going up in flame. 
He turned. And then he shrieked, knocking his chair over in his rush to stand up. He ran the few steps back into the kitchen, bouncing from one foot to the next indecisively, tugging at his hair. 
Before the wall behind the towels could catch fire too, Shea pushed Drew - busy throwing open drawers, muttering something about oven mitts - out of her way, and the scooped the burning mess up. Her hands stung with the abnormal feeling of regular old fire, but not bad enough to draw her attention for longer than a moment. She chucked it into the sink, the flames starting to die even before she turned on the faucet. A rush of steam fogged up in her face.
There was a long silent moment between them before she turned to face his wide-eyed stare. “Told you I was bad luck in the kitchen,” she said, forcing an awkward laugh. She hoped he would laugh too, but he didn’t.
Instead, he muttered, sounding horrified, “I forgot to turn off the stove.” Then he stepped towards her so quickly she almost stepped back, but he caught her by the wrists. “Are you alright?” he asked, pulling her hands up to look at them. 
She blushed and pried her quickly blistering hands away. “I’m fine,” she told him. Her fingers still stung a little, but she knew that it would only take an hour or two for them to heal over completely.
“No, you’re not,” he protested quietly, drawing her hands back up. The look on his face was so sweet and gentle that she let him. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” she promised him, then amended that to say, “I will be fine.”
He let out a ragged sighed, hanging his head. “I’m so sorry. Stay here, I’ll be right back”
“Drew?” she called after him, as he retreated into the bathroom. 
He didn’t answer and returned a few short minutes later, a first aid kit and a bottle of aloe in his hands. He brushed at his face, and she couldn’t quite tell if he was already crying or just looked like he was about to. 
“I really don’t– I’m okay… You don’t need to–”
“Hop up,” he interrupted, gesturing to the counter. 
“Drew, seriously, it’ll heal–”
“Please, Shea,” he all but begged.
She gave in and hopped up onto the counter before he could start crying. “You know, it’s not your fault I grabbed that, right? I’ve had worse burns from myself before.”
“It’s my fault for not turning off the stove,” he whispered, choking out the words as he took her hand between his own. The aloe was cool enough to send a shiver through her, and then the relief she felt as he spread it into her skin, his thumbs pressing against her palm, was unlike anything she could remember feeling before. 
“You know, my parents banned me from using aloe,” she said. He kept his gaze focused on her hand, not meeting her eye. She wasn’t sure she could handle looking him in the eye either, as he started wrapping her hand up in gauze bandages that were more than useless on skin that could recover from almost any wound in a matter of hours, if not minutes. “They thought it would spoil me or something, make me too weak and fragile to use my glow.”
“I like your parents a little bit less with every detail I learn about them.” He pulled her other hand toward him and began repeating the process. His ears had gone pink again, she noticed. She watched him silently, as he took care of her singed hands with more… well, with more genuine care than any of the Team Go medical staff, or even her actual family had since she was a child. It was sweet, and she almost hated him for it. She didn’t know how to handle being cared for.
She kicked her foot out, bumping it against his leg. “Told you I was bad luck,” she said to him again, avoiding her thoughts.
He shot her a small smile as he finished wrapping the gauze up around her wrist to tape it off. “That was entirely my fault, Shea. I’m–”
“If you say you’re sorry one more time I swear I’ll burn these bandages off and prove I’ve given myself worse burns.”
He kissed her fingertips before dropping her hand. Her face must have gone as green as his did red, and just as quickly at that. Neither one of them spoke as their eyes finally met again. A million thoughts ran together until they were indecipherable in Shea’s mind. She didn’t know what to do or say or even how to feel about the fact that… he had just kissed her. It was just her fingers, sure, but he kissed her nonetheless. 
“I– Um… Force of habit,” Drew said, chuckling nervously. “I’ve done my fair share of cleaning up my baby cousins’ cuts and scrapes.” 
Her blood ran cold, with none of the relief the aloe had brought. He still thought of her as a child. She’d thought– She didn’t even know what she thought! She’d hoped, somewhere in her racing thoughts, that he’d kissed her fingers like that because he cared or something, that it was something friendly, not because she was like a baby cousin to him! 
She hopped off the counter before he could step away, putting their bodies unnecessarily close together. “Not a child,” she snapped as he moved back. 
He was barely even a half-step behind her as she moved back to her probably-cold bowl of fried rice on the table. “That’s not what I meant. Shea? I didn’t– I’m sorry, okay? I only meant that it’s a force of habit.”
“Whatever,” she dismissed flippantly. What was she getting so mad about anyway? It didn’t matter what he thought. He was just some guy she was living with. She still wasn’t even sure she liked him, let alone enough for his thoughts on her to matter.
“You’re mad at me,” he sighed. When she didn’t answer he sat back to his own bowl and quietly asked, “Why are you more mad at me for that than you were for getting you hurt?”
“Madder.”
“What?”
“It’s not ‘more mad’ it’s ‘madder’. And I’m not,” she lied. “And you didn’t get me hurt. This is nothing. And I made the decision to pick it up, so just… Shut up already.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated around a mouthful of food. “We should put more aloe on in the morning.”
“That really won’t–”
“Shea, your hands are completely blistered up! Just– Nngh! It wouldn’t kill you, you know, to let yourself… I don’t know, not be in pain.”
“Sheesh, you’re real uppity for someone who tried to set me on fire.”
“Shea!” he whined. 
“Cool it,” she laughed, somewhere between forced and genuine, and kicked him under the table. He flinched and scooted his chair further away from the table with a glare in her direction. “I’m just kidding.”
Drew gasped, startling her. “The show!” he cried out. “The new cooking show! It’s about to start!” His poor chair clattered to the ground for a second time. He was racing toward the couch before she could even blink, flipping rapidly through channels to get to the new show. 
“Are you gonna watch with me?” he asked, turning on his knees to look over the back of the couch at her. 
“Cooking shows aren’t really my thing,” she teased, already standing up to go join him.
“I’d like for you to stay,” he told her. His sincerity made her stomach twist and her brain do flips trying to figure out what his feelings towards her were - was she a friend or a child in his eyes? 
“Are you worried it’s gonna be scary?” she asked, letting herself fall onto the couch beside him, careful to keep her lightly mummified hands up to avoid any unneeded pain from hitting them against anything for the next half hour. 
“No,” he muttered, “just nice to have someone to watch it with, I guess.” 
She nudged his shoulder with her own, as the show began. “You’re the king of dorks.”
“What does that make you?”
Shea paused, then answered, “The supreme leader of the world and everything, more powerful than any king.”
“That seems fair,” Drew laughed, nudging her shoulder in return, “for someone who can just set fire to anyone who bothers her. Now shush.”
She jabbed a finger against his ribs, then flinched as the pressure inadvertently made the burn hurt a smidge more. 
“I’m cold,” she whined, at the commercial break. Two minutes later found her having to shift closer to him to share the blanket he had brought back out from his bedroom. She forced herself to avoid the temptation to curl up against him, as much as she wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and let herself fall asleep. In fact, she did her best to avoid touching him at all. Except, of course, to elbow him and demand he make the meals the chefs on the show made, her mouth watering at the sight of them. He refused to promise anything, pushing her gently. 
She faked a gasp. “First you try and burn me alive, and now you’re assaulting me?”
“I oughta put tape over your mouth, is what I should do,” he mumbled in return, before gesturing to the television. “Back on. Zip it.”
She resisted the temptation for as long as she could, at least. She was barely conscious by the time her head crashed against his shoulder, while the chefs finished up their last meals of the episode. She felt him wrap the blanket more snugly around her, and even though she was attempting to force herself awake and off of him, she slipped entirely out of consciousness, asleep on his shoulder.
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cilldaracailin · 4 years
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A Kind Of Magic
Hello my lovelys! I am so sorry for not posting on Tumblr yesterday. I was in full writing mode and had to keep going or my train of thought would have been lost but I am back with two more posts for you this evening! :) While reading this part, I realised that I have not translated any of the Irish words in previous parts or given a phonic pronunciation of them as I did on AO3 so I apologise for that. My bad. I will go back and change that now on my previous posts. This is another one of my favourite parts from this story. It makes me smile a lot. So here are the words first: Cwtch - is Welsh and pronounced ‘kutch’ (As google told me) Camogie - Ka-mo-gee (Where gee rhymes with key) Sliotar - Shlit-her And the pictures for this part help visually with what cwtch looks like and what hurling is :) Thanks again for all the lovely Tumblr love. You are all wonderful! 
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22
“This is the part where I kiss you.”
Robyn arrived home from work on Monday in a wonderful mood. The funding she had managed to secure had arrived and it was more than she thought they were going to get and was very excited about the research she had started on for rehauling the garden. Also, the new girl who had started was fantastic and an absolute God send for Robyn, taking up Valerie’s old position in the preschool room easily and the children already loved her.
“Hey Taron!” She called happily as she hung up her coat in the closet at the door. “Taron?” She called again as she walked out of the closet and closed the door. “Tar…” Robyn stopped speaking when she walked into the sitting room. “Oh no.”
Lined up along her couch were her teddy bears and sitting in his usual space in the corner was Taron with a large blue dinosaur on his knees.
“Hello Robyn.”
“Been snooping by any chance Taron?” She asked.
“I had no idea there were drawers under your bed and when I opened them, I found all of these!” He said smiling.
When Robyn had purchased her bed, she made sure it had lots of storage space underneath and she used a lot of it to keep her soft plush bears and animals, not willing to put them in her attic. Being a woman in her thirties it was not very grown-up to keep teddy bears on display but she couldn’t part with them so kept them, but kept them hidden away.
“You are like a bloody sniffer dog.” She said as she sat on the poof.
“I love them all but this dinosaur I think is my favourite.” He said giving it a squeeze.
“I don’t have a particular favourite but you might have seen a pattern here.”
“These ones?” Asked Taron as he pointed to the right side of the couch where he had all the Care Bears lined up.
“Yeah the Care Bears. The brown one, my favourite. Tenderheart Bear.” Robyn moved and lifted the large plush toy and sat down on the couch. “You probably think I am a wierdo, with all the teddy bears.” She said hiding a little behind the bear in her hands.
“Not at all and don’t make that noise at me. I don’t judge you for any of this. I told you. I love them all. I had a good time pulling them out and looking at them, wondering what story you had for each of them.”
“Well the one you are holding I won from a claw machine in Galway.”
“Seriously? This thing is fucking huge! It’s bigger than my upper body and you won it from a claw machine?”
“I am quite talented at them. The rainbow unicorn, London bear, glitter eyed bear and a few of those smaller ones I have won from the claw machines. The glitter eyed bear is actually called Freddy.”
“After Freddy Mercury?” Asked Taron as he reached over for the soft brown and black bear.
“Yeah. Remember in the 7/11 I told you about the time I had to sing the Queen song and freaked out over remembering the words?” Taron nodded at her. “Well that gospel music festival was in Galway and I won that bear and called it Freddy.”
“Do they all have names?” Asked Taron, putting the bear back.
“No, just the ones that have a memory attached to them.”
“Does this guy have a name?” He asked holding up the dinosaur.
“Nope. The festival was in Galway the next year as well and I won him too.”
“Can I name him?” Asked Taron.
“Be my guest.”
“Let me have a think.” He said as he turned the dinosaur around so he could look at him properly. “So, you also love the Care Bears?” He said.
“I know I am a nineties kid but I loved eighties cartoons and the Care Bears were my fave. I have been collecting them. I had auditioned for Wednesday Adams for the musical society and desperately wanted the part but I was so ill during the audition I couldn’t sing the song, didn’t get the part and I went to Tesco afterwards to buy my weight in chocolate and there on the shelf was this bear, True Heart Bear, one of the first original Care Bears. I was so excited and it was a bloody bargain at fifteen euro. It was going to make up for my terrible audition. She was beautiful, all rainbow coloured but when I went to pay for everything, they couldn’t sell her to me. She wasn’t supposed to be on the shelf and I questioned it and they still wouldn’t sell it to me. I even rang the head office the next day to complain and the person on the phone was so lovely but it was something to do with stock rotation and they couldn’t sell the bear. I was absolutely devastated and as you can tell. Still as bitter as ever.” Robyn laughed a little. “Seems petty, it is just a teddy bear, but at the time it meant a lot to me. Still does but I cannot get it anywhere however I do keep adding to my collection. No idea what I am going to do with them. Maybe I will build another room and put them in glass cases and display them all!” She laughed. “And now I am rambling about fucking Care Bears. Jesus Robyn shut up. Shit sorry Taron.” Robyn felt her whole face heat up with an embarrassing blush while Taron’s face lit up in a massive grin as she rambled on.
“I am calling this dinosaur ‘cwtch’” He said.
“Bless you.” Replied Robyn which made him laugh hard, Robyn not having a notion to what word Taron had just used, but she knew it was Welsh.
“You are the epiphany of cwtch.” Taron chuckled. “It’s a very special welsh word for a hug or comfort but not just any hug or kind of comfort. It’s the most important and extraordinary type of love you can feel for a person. It’s more than just a hug, it is something shared between two people, that only those two people understand and have this connection of pure trust, faith and belief. It’s what we have and it’s what I am calling this dinosaur so when you look at it, you will call him cwtch and smile and think of our time together.”
Robyn moved the care bear that was between herself and Taron and sat right beside him. “I love it. Cwtch.” She repeated. “Though I don’t need a blue fluffy and glittery dinosaur to think of our time together Taron but…” She took the dinosaur from his hands and made the sign of a cross over his blue forehead. “I now christen thee, cwtch.” She said. “And it is official.”
Taron took the plush back. “You carry a very important name now catch and you must uphold the honour that comes with such a responsibility and always be trusting, faithful and believe that one day I will be back to take you out from your home of darkness and show you the light!” Taron held the dinosaur over his head and started to sing the chorus from The Circle of Life, Robyn chiming in with the Zulu words.
Laughter filled the air as Taron lowered the dinosaur slowly to his lap, the two grinning at each other. “Can he stay on the couch? I would feel bad putting him back under the bed so soon after his christening.”
“Why not. He matches the décor.”
“So, he would have been going back in if he was a red dinosaur?” Asked Taron.
“Yep.”
Taron hit Robyn with the dinosaur, gently. “Don’t worry cwtch, I’ve got your back.” He stood up and placed the newly named animal in the corner. “I will put these back for you and I wasn’t lying when I said I like them. I like snooping around your home and I like it even more that it doesn’t seem to bother you at all.”
“I told you Taron, nothing to hide.”
“Can’t wait to see what I discover tomorrow.” He said giving her a wink before he turned and grabbed a handful of her bears and walked around the couch. “I also want to write a strongly worded letter to Tesco for you. Not very fair having the bear on the shelf but not selling it to you.”
“Thanks Taron. I mean you have connections, might sway them to dig through their store room and find one for me, especially if they get a letter from none other than Elton John.”
Robyn stood up and picked up some of the Care Bears and helped Taron to tidy all of her precious bears back under her bed.
After dinner, Taron sat lazing on the couch, his new dinosaur friend beside him while Robyn was outside routing in her garden shed for something. He had no idea what she was looking for, but quickly added the garden shed for his next place to snoop. He saw her through the glass doors closing the garden shed and she walked around the side of the house and in through the kitchen patio door.
��Right Mr Egerton. It’s time to get physical.” Taron looked over the side of the couch to Robyn who was holding two wooden sticks in one hand and two white balls in another. “We have spent way too much sitting on that couch. I think it is time I introduced you the concept of hurling.” Robyn carefully threw one of the balls his way, Taron catching it in two hands.
“Hurling?” He asked looking at the small leather ball in his hands the same size of a tennis ball.
“Yep. One of the most fast paced and some would say dangerous sports played in Ireland.” Robyn walked over to him, bouncing the ball on the end of the stick she was holding.
“So, you know I am under doctors orders to rest.” He said. “I am not allowed to play hurling.”
Robyn grinned at him. “Well come and get some fresh air with me then.” She handed him one of the sticks that was flat with a curved end. “It doesn’t take much effort.”
“You just said it was one of the most fast paced and dangerous game in Ireland.”
“When you actually play the game properly. We are just going to go and hit the sliotar, the ball, with the hurley stick into the goal.”
“Me and cwtch are just going to hang out here.”
Robyn moved to stand in front of him, her head tilted. “It’s just like cricket.”
“I am feeling kind of achy today. Think I should stay on the couch.”
“Achy my arse!” Laughed Robyn. “You had no trouble moving all those bears to the couch earlier.”
“The bears are light.”
“I will show you how to bake key lime pie tomorrow.”
“Ok so you just hit the ball like cricket?” Taron got to his feet while Robyn smirked at him. “What’s the shit eating grin for?” He asked.
“Men are easily bribed.” She said as she started to walk away from him still hopping the ball off the end of the hurley.
“You were a sporty kid, weren’t you?” He asked as she followed her out the front door, closing it behind him.
“Absolutely not. I never was sporty but dad encouraged me to play camogie, the female version of hurling. I gave it a season but then gave it up. I am not a sports person but every now and again, I head out to the football field and have a play around.”
“And now you are dragging me with you.” Taron said as he watched her still volley the small ball off the hurley stick.
“I will pay you in baking skills and to be fair you kind of owe me.”
“How?”
Robyn stopped and caught the ball in her left hand. “Do you think any other woman would have allowed you to snoop so much through her home and not say anything about all the re-arranging you have been doing?”
Taron smiled a little. “I was wondering if you were ever going to say something. I have been waiting for the backlash for moving all of your stuff around.”
“No backlash to come from this woman.” She said, walking up the drive to her old childhood come. “I have found it amusing.”
“You switched the shampoo back to way I put it.”
“I can get used to little changes, though the DVD’s will probably not stay backwards. My OCD is not liking that change at all and I am just going to get the dog, if that’s ok. She’ll happily run around the football field while we are in there.” Robyn could see a little confusion in Taron’s eyes as he followed her around the back of her old house. “And like I said you owe me.” Robyn used the hurley to roll a green tennis ball back and flick it up in the air, catching it in her left hand along side the other ball she was holding.
“Should I be worried?” Asked Taron as they walked into the back garden.
“Nope.” Answered Robyn giving her mam a wave through the kitchen window and she continued on into the house, Taron right behind her.
“And you’re back for more stories Taron?” Asked Lizzie when her daughter and guest strolled into the kitchen.
“Nah just for Pearl.” Answered Robyn, the dog running her way, tail wagging. “I am going to show Taron how to play hurling.”
“Do you want a helmet?” Robyn’s dad strolled into the kitchen when he heard his daughter mention hurling.
“A helmet?” Taron looked to Robyn, eyes wide. “I need a helmet?”
“No, you don’t and we are going now. I only wanted the dog.” She lightly pushed on Taron’s back. “You don’t need a helmet. Let’s go.”
“Don’t hit the ball at his pretty face Robyn!” Called Lizzie as her daughter rushed out of the door, pulling on Taron’s hand as he went, the dog following them.
“Maybe I should take up the offer of the helmet.” Questioned Taron as they walked back down the drive.
“We are going to be hitting the ball at the goal, not each other.” Robyn gently threw the tennis ball down the road, the dog running straight after it.
“I don’t need matching bruising on the other side of my face though.”
“Thought you said you trusted me?”
“I do.” Taron replied quickly. “It’s the wind and force of gravity that I don’t.”
“Good answer but you’ll be grand. This way.”
Robyn made her way in through a small hole in the hedge, calling Peral who came running, Taron following her up the small incline and into a football field he had no idea existed beside her house.
“Welcome to Kilcreen’s local GAA club. You have gained access through the private entrance.” She grinned, picking up the tennis ball Pearl had left at her feet and throwing it further away this time. Robyn walked over the grassy area and ducked under the bars to get onto the pitch, the dog coming back with the ball again. She dropped the white leather ball from her hands and picking up the tennis ball, threw it in the air with her left hand and with one swift swing of the hurley, her two hands holding the handle, hit the ball for the dog down the pitch.
“Thought you said you only played for one season?” Taron watched at the dog ran full speed after the ball, while Robyn used the hurley to pick up the other easily and catch it in her hands.
“I did. I just don’t have the interest in the competitiveness of it and anyone can hit a ball with a hurley.” She walked over towards the goal. “Even you.”
Taron dropped the ball she had given him and hit it gently with the hurley, taking his time. He enjoyed how she easily invited him into her world and surprised him daily with little adventures. He hit the ball a little harder, still conscious of his healing ribs. Pearl ran past him and dropped the ball for Robyn and she quickly picked it up and hit it again for the dog.
“Are you even allowed in here?” He asked as he stood beside her in the middle of the goal posts.
“Absolutely.”
“Are you just saying that?”
“No one would try to kick me out. My dad is president of the club. He has been involved with the club since he was a kid and has coached many teams. He also got the funding which helped build that clubhouse.”
“Like father like daughter!” Laughed Taron.
“Yes, you could say so.” Robyn picked up the tennis ball Pearl had left for her again. “So, I can come in whenever I want and no one can say anything. You want to try and hit the ball for her?”
“I don’t think I will be as good as you.”
“She won’t care. She just wants to run after the ball.”
“You go again so I can watch and learn.” Robyn threw the ball up, swung back the hurley and hit it hard, Pearl galloping after it. “Just like that.” Robyn looked to him. “Don’t give me that look Taron. I watched Rocketman. I know you hit that baseball on your first take and nearly every take after that.”
“Ahh shit. I forgot about that.”
“Maybe I should have compared hurling to baseball instead of cricket.”
The dog came back with the ball and dropped it at Robyn’s shoes. Using the hurley, she picked up the ball and handed it to him. “Just don’t hurt yourself. Or me.”
Taron took two long strides away from Robyn. “No guarantee I will get this first go.”
“No pressure on you to do that.”
“I don’t want to disappoint Pearl.” When Taron moved away from Robyn, the brown and white dog followed him and sat sitting patiently waiting for him to hit the ball for her.
“I’ll speak to her if you don’t hit it.” Grinned Robyn.
Chuckling, Taron pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let’s make some more memories.”
“You want me to video this?”
“Yeah, why not. I can show my mates at home.”
“Don’t you want a practise shot?” Asked Robyn as she set up his phone to video.
“I am going to take a chance on the first try. Can’t let Pearl down.”
“Ok I am recording.”
Taron threw the tennis ball up in the air, a little higher than he meant to, with a thud that echoed around the empty field, hit the tennis ball a little further than Robyn had, the dog taking to a sprint to run after it.
“Ahh yes!” Shouted Taron with excitement. “And it was a little better than yours!” He gloated doing a little dance as he walked back over to her.
“That was a tennis ball, not a sliotar. It is a lot lighter.”
“You can do better?” Asked Taron taking the phone from her and turning it so both their faces were in the frame.
“Yes, I can do better.” She replied.
Taron held his hand out towards where he had been standing. Robyn smirked at him and picked up the sliotar and walked away from him, Taron filming her the whole time. The dog came to stand at her feet with the tennis ball, Robyn took it from the dog and threw it to Taron to catch. “Go sit with Taron.” She said to the dog, who followed her instructions and sat at Taron’s feet “Stay.” She hopped the white ball off the end of the hurley. “If I hit this further than you hit the tennis ball, then you have to go and get it.”
“Sure. That’s all?”
“You want me to ask you to wear your Elton hot pants and send a picture of you doing so to Claire? And Maggie?”
“Ok so loser goes to get the ball.”
“Yeah that’s what I thought.”
It took less than five seconds for Robyn to throw the slightly heavier ball in the air and hit it very hard, the echo resonating around the empty field, as she put her whole body weight into the strike, the ball landing just past the forty five metre line on the opposite side of the pitch, much further than where Taron had hit his.
“Tennis ball?” She asked looking to Taron, who stood with his mouth slightly open but he threw her the tennis ball. From his throw, she hit it with the same force as the sliotar and the tennis ball travelled further. “Go Pearl!” She called and the dog left Taron’s side while she went to stand beside him. She took the phone from him. “Go Taron!” She laughed and he made a face for the video he was still filming and started to walk down the grass field to where Robyn had hit the ball, while she started to sing We Are the Champions as he walked away. She continued to film Taron as he picked up the ball and walked back to her.
“You still filming?” He asked throwing her the ball.
“Making memories, Taron, making memories.” She caught the ball and handed him his phone back. “You want to try and score some points now?”
“Let give it a go.” He agreed finally stopping the recording.
It was a half an hour filled with their laughs and shouts, Taron enjoying his newly learnt skill. He took it easy, making sure he didn’t push himself too hard but still celebrated each time the ball went through the posts into the goal and even more so when it flew over and between the bars.
“If you keep pulling out all of your surprises for me before Saturday Robyn, I won’t want to come back.” He said as they sat on the ground in the goals, Pearl between then, panting hard from all of her running around.
“And you have figured out my master plan.” She let out a fake cackle, Taron laughing at her.
“So, you don’t want me to come back then?” He said throwing some grass at her.
“You will always be welcomed back with open arms.”
“And baked goods?”
“If there is nothing in my fridge when you arrive, we can bake something together.”
“Like key lime pie?”
“Like key lime pie.”
“So, when do we get to make that? It was my reward for learning hurling with you.”
“Tomorrow?” She suggested. “I will have to get the ingredients in the shop.”
“Yes shopping! I love shopping.”
“We don’t need a pile of stuff Taron. Just the ingredients for the pie.” Robyn looked his way when a pile of grass landed on her arms. “And there is no surprise inside it either.” She picked the grass from her arms and threw it back at him. “It is one you could make for your mam and you won’t need a recipe for it. It’s very easy and simple.”
“You do realise that the things you are good at, like hurling, baking and playing piano are simple for you because you are good at them.”
“Well you are good at throwing grass it seems!” Robyn took some more grass from her jumper. She threw it back his way, another wade of blades landing on her once she got the others off. “Taron, you are…”
“Handsome? Funny? Incorrigible?” He asked grinning.
“That last one yes.”
“Oh, so you don’t think I am handsome then?” He got to his knees, his two hands at his sides, full of grass.
“Because I am really going to say that to your face.”
“So, you do think I am handsome?” Robyn shook her head at him, throwing the tennis ball for Pearl, who ran after it.
With the space between them, now that the dog had moved, Taron took the chance to move closer to Robyn. “Say it!”
“Nope.”
“Say it. Say ‘Taron you are handsome.’” He did the best Irish accent he could muster up, grinning as Robyn rolled her eyes at him.
“Nope.”
“You really should say it, especially if you believe it is true.”
“No, I really shouldn’t and nothing you can do will make me say it.”
“Oh really?” Taron dropped the grass he was holding onto the ground and with his two hands started to tickle Robyn, her hands immediately trying to push his away but Taron used his strength against her and continued to tickle her mercilessly. “Tell me!”
“Never!” Robyn tried to lay down, turn over and crawl away but Taron grabbed her sides and turned her over onto her back and got his hands to her stomach again, fingers tickling her skin as it came on show as she tried to move away from him.
“I won’t stop till you say it!” He laughed, enjoying how Robyn’s chuckles came from deep inside, as she squirmed under him. “Why Robyn I never knew you were so tickly.”
“Taron!” She called still laughing. “You are not going to break me!” She tried to moved his hands again but he knelt firm, nimble and soft fingertips running up and down her sides. Using her feet, Robyn started to push herself backwards, desperately trying to get away from Taron as he tickled her sympathetically, his own laughter filling the air. He snuck his hands under the elastic band of her hoodie and aimed straight for her ribs, Robyn immediately squirming more under his warm touch.
“Come on chicken, you know you want to say it!”
“Never!” Robyn tried to drag Taron’s hands by his wrists from under her jumper, but her movement only made him more determined and he put a little more vigour in the speed of the tickles. “Ok ok! Taron please stop!” She cried, wet tears starting to form at the corner of her eyes from laughing.
“Tell me you think I am handsome! Admit it!” He demanded feeling his hands slip down her stomach and she wriggled away from him. “Don’t even Robyn!” He chuckled.
Robyn moved a few inches backwards again when she felt Taron’s hands ease a little but then she felt a weight on her right leg and realised that Taron had thrown one of his legs over hers to carefully pin her down. “Taron!” She put her two hands on his chest and gave herself one more push backwards, while trying to knock him over with her other leg but her laughter suddenly stopped and she gave a shout of pain as her head hit the goalpost, Taron lifting his hands immediately from her.
“Robyn?” He asked concerned as he heard her groan a little, laying down beside her, so he was curled up protectively against her left side.
“Ugh why do I always get the raw end of these play fights.”
Taron brushed her hair from her face as he leaned over her, his leg still entwined with hers. “You ok?”
“Yeah I am ok.” She said bringing her left hand up to rub the back of her head. She felt Taron’s fingers beside hers as he massaged where she had hit her head off the wooden goal post, his hand that had moved her hair away now at the back of her head. “I hate being tickled.”
“I noticed.” He said grinning at her. “You sure you’re alright?” His hand moved back to her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. Taron felt his heart skip a beat, his stomach drop and a heat rise to his cheeks as he half held Robyn in his arms on the grass on the ground. His eyes closed when he felt Robyn’s left hand rest on his cheek and when he opened them, he didn’t even feel himself moving closer to her but her face was getting closer to his, freckles and blue eyes becoming clearer as he moved. A shaky nervous breath left his lips as Robyn’s hand moved from his cheek around to the back of his neck, her fingers twirling through his hair, her fingertips leaving electric sparks against his heated skin.
Robyn had never seen Taron’s eyes so dark, their colour changing almost completely to brown with a slight ring of green around the edge. Her right hand was still flat against his chest and she could feel how his heart beat changed quicker than a finger click. Her left hand automatically went to his cheek, her hand on skin that was blushed and warm and Robyn knew it wasn’t from their effort of trying to play some Irish sport. She inched her hand down his jaw, his growing beard soft yet coarse against her fingers. He hadn’t bothered to shave since last weekend and as her hand moved down his neck, her thumb grazed the mole at his throat and she felt him swallow as she lightly trailed her fingers across to the back of his neck and into the hair as the back of his head. Her eyes closed for a few seconds as his own hand cupped her cheek just as delicately as she had held his and when she opened her eyes, Taron’s forehead met hers and she watched as he bit his bottom lip before dipping his head a little so their noses touched.
A tennis ball dropping on Robyn’s neck, made her break the intense stare she had with Taron and her heart started to beat rapidly after it had near stopped as his perfect face moved from hers. Her hand dropped from the back of his neck , Taron moving right back from her face and she was sure the red tint that filled his face mirrored hers and just as she had been working on ignoring those bubbling sparks, within milliseconds, they were ignited again but Pearl had finally found the ball she had thrown earlier and happily dropped it back to her master, not caring that she was lying down on the grass with her new friend, breaking the tender but charged connection between herself and Taron
“Thanks Pearl.” Robyn pushed the dog’s nose from her face as she started to lick her. “Ugh Pearl no.”
Taron moved so Robyn could sit up and took his leg from hers so she wasn’t pinned down any more. They sat side by side with each other, Robyn throwing the ball for the dog again. It was the first slightly uncomfortable silence that ever fell between them, both thinking about what would have happened if the dog hadn’t of come back with her precious ball.
Taron was desperate to run his hands through his hair, stand up and shake himself off but instead made himself sit still and try to take calming breathes without Robyn knowing he was doing so, but as she sat right beside him, their shoulders touching, he could feel the one long breath she took. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who needed a minute or two to collect themselves. He tucked shaking hands under his arms but felt Robyn hook her right arm through his left elbow and the kiss she placed on his left cheek triggered the good kind of tingles on his skin.
Nervous energy ran through Robyn’s blood and she really needed to do something with her hands as she started to pull at the skin around her thumbs. Her heart was still racing and from the corner of her eyes, saw Taron slip his hands under his arms so she linked her arm with his and without thinking twice moved so she could kiss his cheek, lingering a little with her lips pressed against his soft skin before she turned back to stare in front of her.
“Taron?”
“Hmm?”
“You are easy on the eye.”
He chuckled a little. “Robyn?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re alright.” He chuckled more when she pulled her arm from his and dug her elbow gently into his left side. “You know I think you are beautiful Robyn. Inside and out.”
“Taron?”
“Yep.”
“You are handsome.”
Pearl came running back with the ball again this time dropping it beside Taron, who threw it for her again.
“We should probably head back.” Said Robyn as she looked to Taron. “It’s getting dark.” She dropped her left arm around his waist and leaning her head on his shoulder, gave his waist a squeeze when he didn’t answer or look at her.  “Few more minutes?”
“Please.”
Granting Taron his wish, she gave him another little squeeze, Taron dropping his own arm around her waist and when Pearl came back, Robyn made her lay down beside her, so they could just sit together and watch as the sky changed from light blue to dark blue to black, taking their heat from each other as they night drew in cold, that slight awkward moment between them setting with the sun, their usual secure feeling coming back quickly.
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peachyteabuck · 5 years
Text
fashión (bucky barnes x reader)
Summary: At one of your best friend’s drag shows, Bucky catches your eye. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the dance pop blaring through the bar’s speakers, but for some reason you’re feeling a little more daring than usual.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 2,536
Trigger Warnings: Blowjobs, shitty flirting, people are drunk and do sex things
Notes/Other: This was done for @propertyofpoeandbucky ‘s mystery writing challenge!! My prompt was “You’re my best friend. How could I put anyone before you?” and has been bolded within the fic! Also, I feel like this is the total opposite of what I’ve written recent but when I got this prompt I knew this wip was perfect for it. 
ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi
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Dating has always been hard for you. Friends and family have always tried to set you up on dates - as has Tindr - but nothing seemed to stick. No one ever seemed to do the trick.
“C’mon, babe…” your friend coos to you. You’re in a dressing room at some fast-fashion establishment, the wide and tall mirror forcing you to stare back at yourself. The too-bright lights burn your eyes, the top radio hits from last year only depress you, and the smell of weed and regret radiating from your skin is making you want a sandwich. “Listen, I know you don’t want to do this-”
Your sigh cuts her off. “Then why are you making me?”
She steps over to you, readjusting the floral jacket before speaking. As you look in the mirror you realize actually kind of…like it. Which is weird. “Because I know better than you, you’re a shut-in, and every moment you’re not being ravished by a muscular hot dude physically kills me.”
God, her brazen personality always catches you off guard. That’s probably why she’s the performer and you just sit alone in the basement of your shared home - sewing and eating and writing all day.
In the end, you don’t buy the jacket. Lucy ends up taking you to her favorite thrift shop and you pick up a deep blue faux-fur coat and some velvet heels in the same shade. Boujie? Maybe. But it’s something you feel confident in, so you don’t grumble too much when you see the total.
You both get to the club early so she can get ready, focus on turning her face into the inside of an elementary schooler’s pencil case – one young enough to understand that there’s never such thing as too much stationary (or too much color) but young enough to constantly be losing caps. As she steps into the threshold of the famous bar, Lucy’s met with jeers from janitors and bartenders and sound techs alike – all people ecstatic to see their favorite person like a dog left alone during a long work day. As she greets them with the same overjoyed smiles, you slip past the jolly merriment to the dressing room in the back of the building – her outfit bag and make up suitcase in your hands, her shoes and wig in your hefty backpack. Despite the outfit you’d picked out earlier you’re donning the same outfit you’d been wearing since the techie days of middle school – black jeans, black t-shirt one size too big, and all black sneakers. All the better to blend in.
Three hours later Lucy has officially turned into Boudoir Z, her drag persona and the username for her long-abandoned Neopets account. The club is packed with people, almost as tight as her dress is with her pads, and some old Kesha song thumps the floor to its beat.
“Are you ready?” you ask, double checking her hands for any loose nails.
She grins as wide as she does right before every show, eyes bright and sparkling like a child on Christmas. “Hell yeah.”
As her intro song starts you scurry away to find your way to the bar, hoping to grab something strong before the show really starts. You don’t really like attending your friend’s (or anyone’s) drag shows, they’re loud and crowded and normally that’s your definition of Hell. Sometimes, though, you can muster up the energy. For whatever reason, today seems to be one of those days. Or nights.
Whatever. Time is an illusion.
The first few beats of the song are long, edited for artificial pauses to build excitement in the crowd. You know the version of Lady Gaga’s Applause well, so it throws your entire brain through a loop when someone pumps into you when you try and grab your rum and coke.
“Sorry,” the guy hisses, immediately moving to make sure he didn’t spill any of his wine cooler on you. You’re about to brush him off, thinking he’s just another guy trying to cop a feel while the main attraction distracts from any protective butches within eye shot. But when you notice he’s carefully avoiding your chest – and pulling away when he notices the lack of dampness on your sternum – you allow yourself to give him a half glance at the brick wall of a man in front of you.
God, you’re so ashamed you noticed that. You’re also ashamed to notice his thick thighs, massive arms, silver hand with black lining, his perfectly mused brown-black hair, and beautiful scruff.
“H-hi,” you stutter, deep exhale one close to dramatic women in movies when they think they’ve seen God. Good luck ladies, I’ve already found him – he’s in the shadiest gay bar in NYC. you think as he shyly smiles at you with cheeks you want to shove between your thighs and lips you want attached to your-
“I’m so sorry,” he tells you, checking again to make sure he didn’t turn your shirt into a bar tap. “I got distracted by-“
You sigh. Of course, he was looking at Lucy. “It’s fine, really, I promise.”
In a brief pause between songs, you two lock eyes. Grey-green ones meet your own and fuck, he’s so dreamy.
“I’m,” he seems hesitant to introduce himself. “Bucky. Name’s Bucky.”
You murmur your own name while looking him up and down again. Black combat boots perfectly shined, black jeans tight enough to rival your own, and black hoodie thick enough for winter in Upstate Main.
“Aren’t you hot?” you blurt, alcohol loosening your brain’s tight grip on your thoughts.
The man, Bucky, shrugs. “I run pretty cold.”
Another few moments of silence dialogue between you two - and judging by his set jaw and the hungry look in his eyes he’s thinking the same thing you are.
But, if you’re anything besides an introverted stylist, seamstress, and occasional therapist for the person up on the stage…it’s a tease.
You lean towards Bucky’s ear, music starting up again. “Wanna come join me close to the stage?”
He smiles, picking his drink back up. “Sure thing.”
Lucy, as always, is dressed to impress. Or scare small children.
Either way one perceives her, she’s killing it.
The large, sheer nightgown’s puffed sleeves make the look even more dramatic. The black contrasts extremely nicely with her large platinum blonde hair, and combined with her large, maroon lips and thick, pointed eyeliner - it’s a nice reminder that drag is both an art and something weird as hell. Watching your best friend to what they love and truly one of the best experiences of your life.
The pair of you are off stage left, Lucy on the other side grinding on some speakers. As some Nicki Minaj song plays, you can feel Bucky bounce to the beat behind you. He’s got a surprising amount of rhythm, and as your hips sync his body presses closer and closer to your own. It doesn’t take long, maybe half a chorus for it to turn into full-on grinding, your ass pressed into his crotch so hard you’re worried he’s going to be bruised when he wakes up tomorrow.
Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, though, nipping at the outer shell of your ear with his lips pressed into the tender skin.
“You do this kind of thing often?” he asks, already deep voice now at a low growl.
You shake your head, moving to take another sip of your drink before answering. “Not really, but Lucy is my best friend so sometimes I get dragged,” you snort a little at your unintentional pun. “To shows and stuff.”
Bucky snickers a little. “That’s totally not what I was asking about, but you also don’t seem like the person who’d be friends with Boudoir Z.”
Your cheeks immediately heat hotter than the Equator as you attempt to backpedal. After a few seconds of stammering, though, the liquid courage surging through your veins comes to a head. “Can I suck your dick?”
You turn to face the man behind you, who seems just as surprised at your inquiry as you are. Still, with his eyebrows raised to his hairlines and his eyes wide, he agrees. “Fuck yeah, lead the way.”
The bathrooms here are surprisingly clean, even if the lock of the door doesn’t quite work. But, judging by the second Pink song of the night, you’ve got awhile before the masses become unoccupied and their bladders realize how much alcohol they’ve consumed.
He shoves you against the tiled wall, lips plush and a stark contrast to his scratchy beard. You want it between your thighs, you sigh into his mouth and a wave of heat rolls through your center. But that’ll have to wait for another time.
Locating his zipper as you kiss him is hard, but not impossible, and soon you’re able to free his cock from its painful confines. Bucky gasps at the rush of cold air, a sound that turns into a deep moan when you wrap an eager hand around him. Maybe some other time, some other night when you’re not fueled purely by endorphins, caffeine, and several glasses of bottom-shelf alcohol, you’d do some foreplay, maybe some dirty talk.
Now, though, your mouth waters at the sign of his hard length, and before Bucky can even get a good grip on your hair you’re spitting on him before taking him as far as your throat permits. He moans deep and guttural, jaw going slack and head leaning against the wall. One of his hands feels cool on your head and it’s nearly sobering, how the freezing material feels against the fire dancing across your skin. You’d question the (seemingly) nonhuman appendage, but the progressive soaking of your underwear and his cursing brings your focus to a pinpoint.
Every single one of his “oh fuck”s and “oh baby that feels so good”s drive you to take him harder, faster, and all too soon Bucky’s getting the message and fucking into your throat. Spit falls from your jaw to between your knees, some slick reminder of how gross this is. That only pushes you, though, to wrap a hand around his base with the other massaging his balls.
“Fuck I’m gonna come,” he moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as both hands wrap around him. “Gonna fucking come down your throat, fuck.”
Fuck yes he is, you think, shoving him back down your throat one last time before the grip on your scalp gets impossibly tight and his thrusts suddenly still and his lets out the deepest, most erotic noise you’ve ever heard in your entire fucking life. The salty taste of him rolls down your tongue and down your throat, his whole body tense as he shoots his load into your mouth.
The second he releases your hair you fall back against the sink, air you’re gulping tainted with the taste of Bucky’s cum. He seems stunned, a little out of it, but still offers to reciprocate. It’s then you realize that Patti LaBelle is playing, and if you’re remembering the song correctly, you’ve got thirty seconds to be backstage and ready to help your best friend get de-dragged.
“Fuck, I gotta go,” you hiss, splashing cold water on your face and trying to calm your ragged breaths. Just before you can open the bathroom door, though, Bucky stops you.
“Wait, just,” he huffs, digging in his pockets for something. Quickly he produces a phone, and he hands it you with the “new contact screen” on it. “Please, give me your number.”
It’s obvious he’s the stronger of both of you, so you slam your fingers on the cracked screen to string together your phone number. It seems the man’s satisfied, because he releases the ajar door from your grip and lets you flee backstage. Lucy comes off just in time for you to meet her, ready with make up wipes and chapstick. Instead of taking both from you, though, she brushes past you to grab at a bottle of water – a surefire sign she’s not done.
You begin to protest, knowing she’s too drunk to lip sync to choral music, let alone her traditional encore playlist. But she waves you off.
“I’m just going to meet some people at the bar take some pics,” Lucy downs the entire 32 ounces of water in record time, barely getting any lipstick on the mouth of the thing. “Don’t worry, just…I don’t know,” she rolls her eyes at her own inability to speak. “Go kill a Westboro Baptist Church member or something, alright? Just…” she hiccups and starts to lean to the right, but adjusts herself before you can do anything. You steady her with a hand on her shoulder, and she lowers her face to yours and juts her lower lip out to pout. “Just wait up for me, okay. I don’t think I can find my way home alone.”
Before you can respond she pushes past you and into the screaming crowd, her shouts and shrieks almost as loud. A quick scan of the dimly-lit bar reveals no Bucky, and without his number you’re stuck putting her reveals back together and unused the unused supplies.
At the end of the night you meet Lucy back where you left her – only this time in black leggings and a purple NARAL shirt shirt three-sizes too big. As she wipes away at the thick cosmetic mask with a dirty make up wipe, your eyes meet hers in the mirror.
“I saw you with some guy tonight,” a smirk paints her lips as heat paints your cheeks. “Did anything happen?”
You bite at your bottom lip, hoping she won’t press further. Luckily, she remains covert, just giving you a once over before speaking again.
“Are you gonna run off with him and abandon me to do all my drag shit by myself?” She asks. Lucy’s tone is playful, but you can tell there’s a hint of seriousness to it.
You shake your head, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear and tucking your hands into your jean pockets. “C’mon, you know I’d never do that. You’re my best friend. How could I put anyone before you?”
Lucy turns around and smiles, perfectly white teeth especially pearly surrounded by the smudged deep purple lipstick and thick, black eyeshadow, a misplaced lash, and what looks to be a twenty-dollar bill stuck behind her ear due to excess wig glue. “Good, because there’s no way I could do Boudoir Z without you.”
Silence settles over both of you as she wipes off the rest of her make up (and pulls out the cash stuck in her hair and to her neck). The only sounds are her throwing loose powders and eye shadow into her make up suitcase and, soon, your phone vibrating in your back pocket. On the screen flashes a text from an unknown number, Bucky you think, and then another right after.
wanna see you again
when are you free
You smile at the screen, giddy like a middle schooler being asked out by her crush. “Hey, Luce…” you wait until she’s facing you to continue. “When’s your next show?”
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