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tiny-maus-boots · 3 years

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Queen of Hearts pt 14

A/N: thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup for being my bestie and still doing all the things i hate to do. and a big thanks to @kimmania for your constant encouragement and supply of Legos. i love you awesome nerds.

14.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

Aubrey’s long arm stretched out along the back of the dark leather of the modern style sofa she was settled on. For the most part she could tune out the dry croak from the desk, but…

“Why don’t you hit me with your best shot.”

This was the sixth time in an hour that she was hearing the song. She was going to have to remind Lilly to remove it from the jukebox after tonight.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

The rough warble across from her died down and she thought for a moment that the singer had finally drifted off asleep. Aubrey’s head turned to the screen that showed a live feed of the cameras around The Dirty Bird. Movement flickered though them as Stacie and the Doc walked between the tables and around the bar toward the back office. She turned her head to check on the figure standing but slumped over her desk only to find dark blue eyes watching and waiting for her attention. The small woman raised herself to her elbows from her slouch and belted out just as the door opened.

“FIRE AWAAAAYYYYY!!! Pew pew pew.”

Aubrey sighed as Detective Mitchell’s finger guns gave out on the click of her tongue and she collapsed back over the desk to cradle a half empty bottle of grappa, ass up where she stood. Stacie’s wide eyes panned slowly toward her, body bouncing lightly with barely restrained glee.

“Oh my God….” Chloe took one look at the Detective and pinned Aubrey with a glare. “How drunk is she?”

The blonde raised a shoulder as she considered. “She’s been worse.”

“Doc. Doooooocccc….I hurt. Right. Here.” Beca raised a hand and brought it back to point at her butt. Her finger wavered as she tried to locate the exact spot which caused the most pain and then pointed for emphasis with a little too much enthusiasm. “Right. OW. Here. OWIE.”

Stacie eased onto the sofa and settled in comfortably in Aubrey’s lap to watch Doc Beale work. The redhead moved behind Beca and settled her bag on the desk. She took a great steadying breath before wrestling away the grappa from the prone detective and snapping on a pair of gloves. Aubrey admired the way Doc Beale efficiently and deftly managed to get Beca’s jeans over her hips and halfway down her legs with practiced ease. Beca seemed to admire it too because she stirred enough to look blearily over her shoulder with a smile.

“If you wanted to check out my assetsssss Doc, you didn’t have to wait til I got stabbeded in it. Right. There. Ow.”

“Yes, I see. Please stop poking the wound in your ass cheek. How even….?”

“I was tailing my guy. My big fish. Fishy fishy fishy. That’s a fun word to say.” Chloe muttered something Aubrey couldn’t hear over Stacie’s soft chuckling. “I heard that! Plenty of people would be DE-FUCKING-lighted to spend their date night starin’ at a little of this action.”

Aubrey bit her lip to keep the laugh from breaking free as the detective wiggled her ass unmindful of the tight skinny jeans trapping her legs and toppled into a slide nearly off the desk before Chloe managed to grab and right her teetering form.

“Head down, ass up. Now tell me again how you managed to get stabbed in the butt cheek with glass?”

“You said that like you’re used to giving that order. I might be down for that, just be gentle with me.”

Beca gave her a leer that the doctor promptly ignored as she prepped her tools.

“Detective, remember that I have some very sharp instruments here that I am excellent with.”

Beca gave her a dubious look but obediently turned and bent over the desk again so the other woman could examine the wound. Chloe was utterly focused on the task of cleaning and debriding the punctures in a circular pattern. Aubrey had been sure it was going to require at least a few stitches from what she saw before she called for real medical help.

“I told you. I was following the big fish.”

“And you followed him into a bar I’m guessing.”

“Right, rule numero dos of detectivering. Don’t stick out like a sore thumb.”

Chloe blinked and looked up from her work to focus on Beca. “What’s numero uno?”

“That’s not a real number, Doc.”

“Solid rebuttal.”

“Did…did you just make pun of my rump? Oh my God I’m in love. I’d get down on one knee right now and propose. Except you’re feeling up my butt right now and that’s kinda nice.”

The doctor’s bright blue eyes narrowed and she jabbed the needle into the hunk of flesh she had just grabbed in preparation for the injection. She depressed the plunger quickly as her patient yelped and attempted to squirm away.

“HEATHEN! Oh God. I’m dying. Help. I’m dying, Dr. Kevorkian is killing me….my vision…I can’t see.”

“Open your eyes, idiot. That was just an antibiotic booster. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?”

“Pretend I said whatever answer will prevent you from being a literal pain in my ass.”

It was too much for Stacie and she turned her head to bury her laughter in Aubrey’s neck. The blonde tightened her grip on her fiancée and enjoyed a satisfying laugh at the detective’s expense. She hadn’t known what she’d find when she had gotten Beca’s distress call. They had all been on high alert since coming back to Los Angeles, trying to close ranks as best they could without being obvious about it. She had been waiting for an attack to come and her first thought when she had gotten the call was that it had finally begun. Each moment waiting in her office while Lilly retrieved the Detective from her hiding place in an abandoned warehouse building down at the port had been like a stone on her chest. She had needed this humor to ease the cold grip of fear on her heart.

Aubrey’s line of business didn’t lend itself to close relationships with members of law enforcement, at least not for long. What she and the Detective had was something altogether different than any of the other criminal-cop business agreements she had formed during her career. Beca was someone she trusted at her side, more…trusted at her back. The idea that someone would try to take her out was sobering and her laughter faded. Stacie sensed the change in her and cupped Aubrey’s face gently to bring their foreheads together. Words weren’t necessary for Stacie to understand what she was thinking and feeling. The blonde took a deep breath and straightened her spine. One hand came up to adjust and smooth her tie. If it had started…she wanted to know who was coming for her people.

“So, who’s the fish?”

Beca lifted her head from the desk and struggled to focus on Aubrey. It took her a few seconds to process the question. She seemed to have forgotten the conversation while Chloe worked silently to finish working on her wound.

“A security guard. He’s got bad taste in bars and also what I would loosely refer to as ladies.”

She couldn’t imagine where a security guard would fit in with Alice’s plans and frowned. Maybe this wasn’t about her. Beca had other cases she was working, maybe this was just another Tuesday night for the cop.

“A security guard? Sounds kind of small time for you.”

Denim blue eyes flashed to hers, some of the haze of alcohol burned away by intensity of her drive. The small brunette’s lips quirked into a smirk. Aubrey was suddenly very sure that nothing Beca did was small time or without a very good reason.

“It only takes a small stone in the right place to make a rockslide.”

Chloe slowed her movements as she finished her work. Something about what Beca said must have been interesting to the doctor because she kept her attention on the detective while she cleaned up the trash and peeled her gloves off to toss in the black plastic trash bag left there for that purpose. Aubrey guessed she was re-evaluating her previous estimations of the foul mouthed, perpetually smug, woman.

“You’re not wrong, Bec. So, what’s this small stone guarding?”

“Not what. Where. Dude works at the port.” She grunted and stood gingerly with a backward glance at her own butt. “Hm. Nice, think chicks will dig the scar?”

If Chloe had been considering there may be more to Beca than outrageous flirtation it was only a brief passing fantasy. She sighed and rolled her eyes then glared at Aubrey.

“18, Aubrey.” It was almost enough to make her face split into a grin and she had to turn her chuckle into a soft cough. Chloe tied up the bag and dropped it in the trashcan sure that it would be disposed of carefully. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to patch one of them up, they knew the drill by now. “You owe me so big.”

“I’m good for it. So, Detective, what about this dock rat?”

Beca stopped checking herself out long enough to pull her pants up and wink at Chloe before answering. Doc pretended not to notice but Aubrey could see her watching Beca from the corner of her eye while she played around with the tools in her bag.

“When I figure how he connects to Richie Rich, I’ll let you know.”

Stacie’s body tensed in her arms and Aubrey glanced at her curiously. Her girl chewed her lower lip in thought, a habit that Aubrey found adorable. “Something on your mind, Stace?”

“It’s probably nothing. Just something Edith said about someone I went to prom with. His dad got him a job down at the docks.” Stacie shrugged it off but Aubrey could tell she was still chewing on it. “Probably just coincidence.”

Aubrey and Beca exchanged a look. After a lifetime of double crosses and plot twists, neither of them believed in coincidences. The detective dug around in her pocket for her phone. She wasn’t quite sober yet but a hell of a lot steadier than a few moments ago. Aubrey snatched the phone easily out of the air when it was tossed her way and glanced at the screen.

It was a video and she angled it so Stacie could see too. Her fiancée pressed play and sighed. Beca could be heard in the background giving a lot of very specific direction to the two women practically fucking on a pool table in a disgusting looking rathole of a bar. Aubrey was pretty sure the women were hookers and the corner of her mouth quirked in amusement. Stacie took the phone out of her hand turned it to face back to the detective.

“Really Beca?”

“I thought it was pretty good for my directorial debut. But your gutter brain is making you miss the real show.”

Aubrey took the phone back and focused on the whole scene. Behind the women in a shadowed booth two men were clearly having an animated discussion. One was further into the shadow than the other but his gestures were strong and decisive. She watched as the other, younger seeming, man’s gestures became conciliatory and submissive the longer the conversation went on. In the foreground a flurry of noise and activity caused the camera to shake and wildly as if it were being swung around. There were glimpses of rough faces and snatches of shouts and curses. At one point there was a good stretch of scuffed flooring where she assumed Beca had been crawling away from the obvious brawl happening around her.

The camera came up again in time to catch the men leaving their booth in a hurry. Each of them caught in the neon blue glow from beer signs on the walls. Stacie snatched the phone out of her hand and hit pause. Long legs dropped down to the floor from the sofa and she stood in shock.

“Bree…this is Senator Grant. The guy he’s with is his son Kodie, we went to high school...Jesus Christ…”

“You know him?”

“Weston stole his money.”

They looked at each other then turned twin green-eyed gazes on Detective Mitchell. The small woman’s brow was furrowed in thought, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she worried it.

“The kid is on the videos.”

Mitchell didn’t have to say which videos, they all knew. Even Doc Beale. Stacie looked away from them, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had been in some of those videos. Aubrey let out a long settling breath and stood. She gently took the phone from Stacie’s shaking hand and brought it to lips to brush a soft kiss over Stacie’s wrist. It gave her a wan smile but it was something. Stacie would be okay. Aubrey looked down at the phone and watched the video again. And again. And once more. She studied every gesture, every twitch of posture, every unconscious expression she could make out.

“I want the kid. He’s the weak link.”

Beca grunted and limped around the desk to grab her keys and helmet, ready to go back to work with a hole in her ass nearly as big as the one in her pants. It wasn’t going to happen that way and Aubrey reached out to snag both items from the sidebar and hand them to Stacie who easily placed them on a shelf far too high for Detective Mitchell to reach without finding a stand on.

“White she devil.”

“Sorry, Bec. Can’t have you half-assing anything.”

She didn’t like it and Aubrey could tell but Beca sighed and grunted. “Solid burn.”

Aubrey gave her a quick grin then turned to eye the Doctor who was watching them all curiously. Her gaze met Aubrey’s and a brow went up. Honestly, she almost felt a little bad about needing to have the Doc take Beca somewhere safe. She didn’t ask, she didn’t need to. Chloe knew what she was thinking and started to shake her head no until Beca tried to drag a chair over to the get her stuff.

“I really hate you, Aubrey Posen.”

“No, you don’t, Doc.”

“You WILL be making a very large donation to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital.”

“Absolutely.”

“And vacation for my office girls. Two weeks!”

“I’ll buy the plane tickets myself.”

“And if she pisses me off just once I will trank her and leave her on a park bench.”

The last was a bluff but Aubrey treated the threat seriously. “Understood. Anything else?”

“….I’ll think of something!” Aubrey bit back another grin and nodded seriously. She slipped her hands into her pockets as the doctor steeled herself mentally to take on Beca. “Come one Detective, as much as this pains me to say…you’re coming home with me.”

Beca dropped the helmet she had finally just retrieved on the ground and left it like discarded trash to limp over to Chloe. “Okay.”

“God…you’re so easy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Doc.”

Chloe gave her a final glare and slung the detective’s arms over her shoulder to help her limp out of the office. Stacie settled the length of her body along Aubrey’s back, hands coming up to finger the buttons of her vest.

“How well do you know this Kodie, joker?”

Stacie hmmm thoughtfully. “Not as well as I did in high school. Edith told me he got caught up in some trouble recently. I think I know how we can get to him though.”

“How?”

“He likes cocaine and paying for his um let’s call them dates. I had Happy make some calls for you.”

The smile came to her face easily and she leaned into Stacie’s embrace. This wasn’t anything like what her mom and dad had. Her mother had never been this involved in what her father did for work. She had kept as distant from it as she could, turning her nose up at the family that protected them, running from the darkness of the business. Stacie would never do that to her. She knew it all way down to the bottom of soul. Aubrey turned in her arms and brought their heads together.

“You got more cards up your sleeve than a Vegas croupier, you know that?”

“Hmm. I learned from the best.”

Aubrey closed the distance, her brushing softly over Stacie’s. There were a lot of words she could say about how she felt about the woman in her arms. She could probably write pages on it, but words didn’t matter half as much as action did. She was going to marry this woman and spend her life giving her the best of everything. They were going to be happy and she didn’t care who she had to kill to make it happen.

“Let me take you home?”

“Aubrey…in your arms? I’m already there.”

#queen of hearts #staubrey #pitch perfect au #the debt collector series

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laceymorganwrites · 3 years

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The damn jacket

Word count: 2,210

Pairing: none rlly

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, like a sentence of Mötley Crüe slander xD, um bad structure??

A/N: this is a mess. modern AU, kinda character analysis, idek but it was fun. Inspired by @pirate-shrimp (if any of u catch the MSI reference I will marry u on the fucking spot)

Kid had bar vibes. He was the kind of guy you found sitting in the corner of your local pub, just far away from the others not to be forced into a conversation but also not far away enough to seem lonely.

He was the local phenomena of the man you didn´t want to get close to but whose story you wanted to know at the same time. The guy who pushed people away because he was more scared of hurting them than being hurt.

Hell, he doubted he could get hurt anymore at this point, over the years he´s lost so many friendships, been betrayed so much by the people he considered the closest to him, it was laughable.

Maybe that was why he didn´t let anyone get close anymore, why he always seemed so distant, his thoughts stuck in a past long gone or perhaps a future he knew he´d never have.

A good for nothing college drop out, those were the hard facts he had to face every day.

It wasn´t because he was dumb that he quit, far from it. Kid wasn´t thrown out, he quit himself because college was too restricting for him. There were some classes that were nice enough, but working towards exams really wasn´t his style, he wanted to do something, anything really.

People like him didn´t have it easy, society measured your worth in degrees and results. But what if the way was so much more fun than the end result?

Kid had a lot of jobs to make a living, never staying in one though, he got bored so easily. How could anyone expect anyone to keep doing the same routinized thing for over 40 years? It was insanity. To him anyways.

Being punk, never fitting in, living the life of sex, drugs and rock n roll…. It all seemed so much more fun than it really was.

Kid´s band was a bad ripoff of Mötley Crüe, though some might argue that the band itself was.

Yes, he fit into some stereotypes that he was so sick of hearing: playing in a band, being that eccentric lead singer that caused too much trouble for his own good, though the second part wasn´t true anymore. Lately he just wanted people to leave him alone.

It was nice being a small town band, the bonds with your audience were so much stronger, it felt like hanging out with friends rather than playing a show for money. Kid never wanted that feeling to end, he never wanted to end up like those big bands who lost their spark, who lost that glimmer in their eyes, their racing heart when Killer counted and initiated their first song, the immense feeling of belonging whenever the crowd would sing his words back to him.

This.

This was what he was made for. Passion. That was what was missing when he was studying, he needed to do things, be that sketching or tinkering with his car or writing everything down that was going on in his head.

In truth Kid started writing because it all got too much, too many fake people around him, too many people acting like his best friend and leaving him cold the next day, too many people telling him they loved him and then spitting at him, gossiping behind his back.

A part of him missed the times when he cared, when he was shocked and hurt by this. By now it´s become so common, like the energy drink before work.

Kid didn´t have the dream rockstar life, not the one where people looked so cool shooting up in those movies, that shit was fucked up and society was sick for portraying it like that.

He only had bad experiences with drugs, living in a small town like this he saw the addicts everywhere, sad creatures who couldn´t support themselves anymore, who got dependent on things that destroyed them because nobody would help, because nobody gave a shit about them. Why would they? They were good for nothings who couldn´t work ten hours in some shitty job that didn´t pay them enough to pay rent.

The system wasn´t corrupt? Yeah, bullshit.

The problem he faced was that of a fleeting society, a society that sped up so much, never once slowing down and looking around to see what was out there. They never thought about expanding their horizons.

Schoolings were looked down upon, but at the same time cheered for. It was so strange… the craft was dying but also needed.

Nothing held value anymore, nothing lasted, nothing strove to.

Kid was happy with his life as it was now. He hated being selfish and arrogant but learned that a certain amount was needed to survive, you needed to look out for yourself before you could look out for anyone else. A local rockstar, frequent bar visitor, the best mechanic in town. All those fit him so well but at the same time he looked the part, oh how he hated it sometimes. The acquaintances he made because of his looks, because people spread rumors about him, making him more myth than man, it was pretty tiring.

Especially when they all were disappointed by the rather bland truth.

Not that Kid was bland in any way, it was just that people expected so much more from him, they wanted him to be this rebel, this punk, this heartbreaker.

Expected him to have tattoos and piercings but the truth was that he had such a low pain tolerance it was embarrassing. Yes, he bore every punch and kick he ever got without any complaints because there were parts of him that told him he deserved it, parts that hated him more than anything else.

Just try it…. there´s nothing you can do that I haven´t already done myself, you can´t hate me more than I hate myself.

Ah yes, the typical phenomenon of this generation: being way too soft and overly sensitive.

That was it, they weren´t more considerate and aware of their mental health and other people´s wellness, of identity and morals, of things that got swiped under the rug because ´it was always this way´. Why the fuck would people so desperately try to keep something misogynistic, racist and homophobic up? Just because it existed the majority of time doesn´t mean it was a good system.

Fuck, it never was.

And Kid was sick of everyone playing down those things. So what if he was a fucking crybaby and didn´t get humor? He wouldn´t take this shit anymore, yeah it mostly didn´t affect him but he got angry beyond belief for the people it did affect.

It wasn´t fair.

He couldn´t do anything? It wouldn´t matter anyway? It wouldn´t make a difference? So fucking what. He´d never know if he didn´t try.

Just now Kid finished up his work at the garage, closing up shop for the day. It was a busy day, many people who were driving through came to him to do a check up, others came by for their regular reparation. He loved that busy meant fun in his world. He was so fucking happy that he could do the things that brought him joy, that burned like a fire in his heart. And no, he didn´t care how cheesy that sounded.

Washing his hands and closing the door behind him he called Killer to let him know he was done. Killer was also just now finishing up his shift at the record shop. Now was their time to rehearse, band practice was always the best part of the day, though quite honestly most of the time it was just the guys hanging out and having a good time. And they wouldn´t have it any other way.

Kid grabbed his jacket and locked the doors before making his way to his car.

The jacket. That damn jacket.

It was where it all started. He bought that old thing from his first ever pay at the garage, his boss told him to spend it on something nice for himself, something that´d make him a man. He didn´t ever ask what he meant by that, his boss said weird things at times. But this was true, at least in a sense.

It was the first time Kid ever stepped foot inside of a second hand store and it was like heaven revealed himself to him, it was pure paradise. Just going through the aisles, finding treasures like no other, it became one of his favorite things to do.

The jacket was the first thing that ever caught his eye, the firs thing he purchased. The black leather with the yellow and dark red details, the skull on the back… it was calling to him. Those were his favorite colors, he didn´t even have to think about it before he bought it.

But what about it made him a man? It was just a jacket after all. But that´s where you´d be wrong.

It was so much more than that.

The very next day he started wearing it religiously, he noticed people staring at him at the streets but this time it wasn´t because he was a loser, it was because he looked fucking cool. The jacket boosted his confidence immensely. And it showed.

His boss complimented him and said that from this day on his journey was only beginning, and how right he was with that.

It was the day he reconnected with his high school friend Killer, he didn´t even know he was back in town, let alone working at his favorite record shop and searching for a band to play drums for. So Kid got his first guitar and played it to death, jamming with Killer and searching for others, thus meeting Heat and Wire, the coolest guys on earth.

He grew so much, finding more and more passion in his life, only his jacket stayed the same. He decided that it was time to change that.

Kid went to the crafts store and bought red leather protectors with a quilting pattern, sewing it to the shoulders of the jacket. He also decided to pimp the skull, making it his own personal jacket in painting on the goggles he wore at work, two knives as a cross because it was edgy and of course: his hair. His untamable hair that would never hold up so he got used to wearing any sort of silly glasses, sometimes even the goggles from work. Hair gel was a lie to him, so was hairspray.

He painted bright red flames in homage to his dyed hair, yeah, it wasn´t just a phase.

Everything was coming together.

He grabbed his stupidly large square blue sunglasses that made him look like a dad. Yes, Kid had a dad style. He loved second hand shirts more than anything, not the boring ones, the ones with the stupidest prints, he wore dad shoes like no one´s business and he was proud of it. He was the cool dad, the cool dad with the big car and puns that were so bad they somehow got good again. But damn, did he have talent with words. Screw not being able to formulate shit in speech, that man could write like a god, or rather the devil. Because, let´s be real, the devil sounds so much better on the mic.

Starting the engine, he drove home to at least make some room to sit for his friends, on the way he shopped for groceries too. Now that he was home he got the snacks, drinks and notebooks ready as well as the tons of pens where he never knew which one worked but never threw any away because somehow he thought he´d exchange the mines. Yeah, as if.

He threw on a black shirt and some black joggers before tying his hair up into a tiny ponytail, still his bangs fell in his face as always. It was annoying so he clipped them back with some black hair clips. He didn´t care if he looked stupid with that, at least he could see clearly now.

But getting a hair cut? No way, he looked too cool for that.

Kid opened the door when the others came and sat down on the couch with his acoustic guitar, lately they decided to play around with reimagining their songs after supporting and motivating Kid to sing rather than growl. He had such a nice guttural and gruff voice, these imperfections when singing, the edges just made the song that much more genuine.

Listening to Kid you just couldn´t help but get mesmerized, the way his biceps flexed when he held the guitar, the emotions in his eyes, the way he frowned and squinted whenever the lyrics got emotional and close to home, it made you want to protect him, to keep him happy, to keep this alive, this wonderful world he created for himself.

The others also scribbled down ideas and practiced new melodies, tried out new lyrics and solos. After a while work mixed in with private chats and the night faded into distant, nostalgic laughter and the crinkles around Kid´s eyes that showed how much it all meant to him.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece oneshot #one piece scenario #one piece drabble #one piece fic #one piece kid #one piece modern au #one piece writing #op #op imagine #op oneshot #op scenario #op kid #op drabble #op fic #op writing #op modern au

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misscellophane-ao3 · 5 years

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Story Title: Backstage (Ao3)

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x Will Byers (Background Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers)

Summary: Will finally meets Jonathan’s band. He just wished his brother had the foresight to tell him how hot the guitarist was. (Modern AU/They are all 16-18)

Warnings: Light cursing (Barely any really)

Words: 2742

Story -

“So, are you excited?” Jonathan asked as he glanced at his brother in the passenger seat.

Will rolled his eyes, “I’m meeting your weird emo garage band.”

Jonathan poked him in the side before returning his hand to the wheel, “It’s not a weird emo garage band. We play rock music.”

Will grinned at him, “I know. You’ve been talking about it for months now.”

Jonathan shrugged, shooting his brother a small grin, “It’s fun. I can’t wait to introduce you to the others.”

“I can’t wait to meet Steve.” Will said with a teasing smile.

Jonathan cleared his throat, he could feel his face heating up, “Yeah, yeah. Steve’s cool. I think you’d like him.”

“Not as much as you, I bet.”

“Will!” Jonathan groaned.

Will laughed brightly.

...

To be honest, Will wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Jonathan asked him to join him for band practice. He had known his brother had joined a band a few months back, how could he not? It really was all Jonathan talked about lately. But besides Jonathan, he didn’t really know anyone in the band. He had heard a lot about Steve though. Steve with the cool hair, Steve “the ladies man” Harrington, Steve who acts cool but is a huge dork (Jonathan’s words), Steve Steve Steve.

Honestly, Will rolled his eyes, Jonathan was worse than him when it came to hiding a crush.

“Who else is even in this band?” Will asked suddenly, the thought hitting like a brick. How was he supposed to meet these people when he didn’t even know their names?

“I talk about them all the time and you don’t know?” Jonathan sighed, “And here I thought you actually listened to me.”

Will shrugged, “I haven’t listened to you in years.” He pointed out with a grin.

Jonathan rolled his eyes, an amused smiled tugging at his lips, “Right.”

“Anyway, Band?” Will prompted.

Jonathan hummed, “Right, well, there’s me obviously. I play the drums. Then there’s Steve who is the lead singer, he also plays guitar. Jane or El as we call her, plays the bass and sometimes the piano. Then there’s Mike. He’s the lead guitarist and is the backup vocals. Sometimes El plays back up vocals too.”

“So, You, Steve, El and Mike?” Will repeated curiously.

Jonathan nodded, “Yup.”

Will nodded, “Anything else I didn’t hear you say before?”

Jonathan shrugged again, “I don’t know. Uh, El and Mike used to date but now they’re just good friends. Steve used to date Nancy, Mike’s sister. It’s how they met. Uh, we had another member, Dustin. But he had to move due to his dad's work. He still has a spot in the band though if he ever moves back.”

Will nodded, “So, the usual band drama. Got it.”

“It’s not- “

“Drama.” Will repeated firmly.

...

Jonathan pulled up to Steve’s house, his stomach in knots. It wasn’t necessarily because he was nervous. He just- it was Steve. And he was Jonathan. And he had never felt like this for anybody before. Sure, he had crushes. Hell, he had a crush on Nancy! But this was different somehow. Jonathan didn’t really want to dwell on why though, He wasn’t really ready for that.

Will nudged him, pulling him out of his thoughts, “You okay?”

Jonathan notes concern hiding in between amusement and exasperation.

He stared at his brother for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go.”

Will nodded and got out of the car.

Jonathan took a moment to collect his thoughts as he turned the car off and got out, following after his brother at a sedate pace.

“So, what are your band-mates like?” Will asked as they headed to the door.

“Wow, you really didn’t listen to a word I said over the past five months huh.” Jonathan teased.

...

Will felt a hint of embarrassed guilt creeping up on him. He honestly didn’t mean to ignore everything his brother had said, he just had been really busy himself with the art festival coming up.

Jonathan must have noted the look on his face as a fond smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head, “It’s fine Will. You’ve been busy yourself lately.” He said as he knocked on the door, “How’s that going by the way? You finish that portrait yet?”

Will groaned, “Don’t remind me! I haven’t started on it yet. I just can’t decide who I want to sketch and It’s due in two weeks! Why did I agree to do the art festival for extra points?” Will complained.

Jonathan laughed and patted his shoulder as the door opened, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Hey, Johnny boy! I don’t know what you guys are talking about but you shouldn’t sweat it. Things always work out eventually.” The guy, Will guessed this was Steve based off the light flush and shy smile on Jonathan’s face, said to him then turned to Jonathan, “You made it! And you brought your brother.”

Will nudged Jonathan in the side and his brother jerked slightly before clearing his throat awkwardly, “Uh, right yeah. Steve this is Will. Will, Steve.” He uselessly gestured between the two.

“Nice to meet you. Steve.” Will greeted with a slight playfulness in his tone. The embarrassed narrowed eyed look he got from his brother was so worth it.

Steve grinned at him, “Yeah, you too man. Jon talks about you all the time! I’m honestly surprised you hadn’t come by before.” He stepped back so they could finally walk into the house.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve been busy.” Will said as he looked around the large house. Holy shit. Everything looked so expensive, just how rich was his parents?

“The art thing right?” Steve asked as they headed down the hallway to another door that leads to the basement where they practiced.

Will nodded “Ah, yeah. Yeah, it’s a real pain but I enjoy it.” He replied.

“I get you. It’s the same thing with music for me. I mean, I gotta practice but sometimes I just don’t want to you know?”

Will hummed in agreement, his eyes flickering around the room. There was a drum kit, guitar stands and a microphone set up in the corner, a few amps surrounding it, across from a large couch and mini-fridge. There was a girl currently sitting on the couch munching on what looked like an eggo. She looked up at the sound of their arrival, her eyes dark and piercing. Will almost felt like she was looking right into his soul.

“Hey, El! This is Will, Jon’s brother. Will, meet El. She’s the resident psychic.”

Will blinked in confused surprise, “The what?”

“For the last time, I’m not psychic. You’re just easy to read.” Her voice was soft, calm, pleasant to listen to.

“I’ll believe that as soon as you stop doing freaky shit.” Steve shot back.

Jonathan rolled his eyes before he greeted El politely, “Hey El, Mike here yet?”

El shook her head, “He said he was gonna be a little late. He had to drop off Holly at her friends for a sleepover.”

Steve huffed, “He always has excuses.”

El turned her gaze onto him, “Funny, you live here yet you are also late eight out of ten times.”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, “ I- well- I-shut up.” He turned his face away with a small pout.

El’s lip twitched upwards. Will noted Jonathan had a small grin on his face too.

Before anyone else could say anything the door to the basement slammed open and a voice yelled down, getting louder as they got closer, “I’m here! I’m here! I’m here!”

“You’re late!” Steve said with a stern look.

Will turned in time to see a head of curly back hair jump down the last two steps, he curled over a bit as he gasped for air, “I’m not late. You’re just early.” He retorted, looking up.

Will swallowed thickly.

‘Holy shit.’ He thought as the beauty in front of him straightened and swiped some hair out of his eyes.

El giggled, “You said that to Mr.Phillips today too when you were late to Bio.”

The gorgeous person in front of him, who could only be Mike, shot El a grin and a wink, replying with, “Must be true then.”

Will could feel his cheeks heating up as Mike turned his gaze onto him.

“Well hello there. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m sure I would have remembered a pretty face like yours. I’m Mike.”

Jonathan nudged him with a grin, “This is my brother Will.” He said for him as Will’s brain seemed to turn to mush.

Mike’s eyes lit up with recognition, “Oh! The one you talk about all the time? I’ve been wanting to meet you.” He walked over to Will and the closer he got the more Will felt like he was gonna melt right into the floor. He thankfully stopped about a few feet away from him, giving Will some breathing room, then his statement processed and Will flushed even darker.

“You have?” Will was so glad his voice didn’t crack on him. He wouldn’t be able to stand the embarrassment.

Mike nodded with a bright grin, it made him look even more beautiful, “Yeah! Jonathan always talks about you. He said you were a nerd like me.”

Will’s brain halted. No way. There was no way this amazing and handsome and beautiful guy was a nerd like Will, there was just no way.

“Oh yeah, Mike likes D&D too Will.” Jonathan added, nudging his arm again, “He also is a huge Star Wars fan.”

Mike shrugged with an embarrassed look on his face and he rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, I’m a huge dork.”

Will shook his head quickly, “No! I mean, I am too so like, uh, there isn’t any problem with it. To me anyway. I mean, it’d be pretty hypocritical of me to judge you based on things I like too so, uh, yeah.” As soon as he realized he was rambling he snapped his mouth shut.

Mike thankfully didn’t seem put off by it, and merely laughed, “Yeah, I get you. Thanks.” He smiled again and Will felt like he had ascended to heaven.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Yeah, yeah. Cool.”

‘Yeah, yeah. Cool? What the hell, Will!’ He thought to himself, ‘Could you sound any stupider?’

“I heard you play the guitar? That’s cool.”

Apparently he can.

Mike nodded, “Yeah. I’ve got good hands.” He said with a wink.

Will’s brain short-circuited. Was-was he flirting!?

“I’m sure you do too. From being an artist.” Mike added with what was almost a playful smirk.

“Uhm. I-I guess. Though I-I doubt it compares to you.” Will replied as casually as he could. He was still processing the earlier statement but immediately was horrified once he realized what he had replied with.

‘Oh my god. Oh my god. What the hell? Why am I so dumb? Way to go Will. He’s gonna think you are so weird.’

“I could show you sometime?” Mike said with another wink and flick of his hair.

‘Wait, what?’

Startled out of his thoughts, Will could only squeak out an “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah, playing the guitar isn’t that hard. I’m sure you could easily pick it up.” Mike chimed brightly, flicking a piece of hair out of his eyes again.

Oh. Oh. That was what he meant. Will was just gonna go jump into a volcano now.

“I don’t know. I’m not much of a musician.”

“That’s alright! I could show you.” Mike easily replied.

El giggled from her seat on the couch and said so quietly Will wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear, “I’m sure that’s not the only thing you want to show him.”

Will ignored her and tried valiantly to cool his face down, “I wouldn’t be any good.” He weakly replied.

Mike shrugged, “I wasn’t either at first. But it’s all good. You don’t have to play, just thought it’d be fun.” Mike shot him another grin, “Guess you can watch me instead.” Mike winked again, “If you want to.”

Oh. Oh my god. He was definitely flirting.

...

He had to hold back a laugh as Will pretty much gawked at Mike the moment he saw him. He was definitely going to be teasing his brother about his reaction to Mike later.

To be honest, Jonathan kind of expected this. Mike was objectively a good looking guy and definitely Will’s type but actually seeing it in person was hilarious. Will was as red as a tomato and stammering like a fool while Mike had a slight flush to his cheeks and a wide grin on his face. He figured Will was far too shocked by the sudden flirting to notice how awkward Mike was being though. Mike kept swiping his hair out of his face, almost stammering his words and winking far too much. He had never seen Mike so obviously and awkwardly flirt with someone before, even with El.

It was honestly kinda adorable.

Steve nudged him with a grin, “Is it just me or are they flirting?” He asked quietly.

Jonathan glanced at him then to Will and Mike then back to Steve with a smile, “Definitely flirting.”

...

Later during the night as they were taking a break, Mike sat next to El on the couch and watched Will, a bright smile on his face, talk to Steve and Jonathan.

El rolled her eyes playfully as Mike continued to stare at Will from across the room “You’re gawking again.”

“I am not.” Mike scoffed but didn’t look away from Will, eyes tracking the movement of Will's hands as he pushed some hair out of his eyes as he laughed.

El hummed “Sure. And I’m actually psychic.” She stated dryly.

Mike rolled his eyes and finally turned to her “Okay, fine but can you blame me? It’s Will.”

El smiled at him “Yeah, just Will. The guy you have been crushing on since you first noticed him in 4th grade.”

Mike gently shoved her arm playfully “Shut up.”

She laughed at him “Are you gonna tell him?” She asked.

“Tell him what?” Mike asked absently as he turned back to look at Will. Steve was currently, it seemed, telling him about the story of how he first got his guitar if the constant gesturing and occasional loud word Mike managed to catch was anything to go by. Jonathan was smiling at Steve as he spoke and Will would nod every now and then politely but he didn't seem as interested in the topic. Though Mike doubted anyone could be as interested in whatever Steve says as much as Jonathan.

“That you’re a huge dork who’s had a gigantic crush on him for years?” El suggested, “Or maybe that you were the one to stick that cheesy poem in his locker in 6th grade? Or wrote a whole song about him? Or maybe that you-“

Mike pressed a hand against her mouth, his cheeks bright red and eyes wide “Shhh, are you crazy? What if he hears?” He glanced at the male in question worriedly, as if he could hear them whispering from across the room. He was still standing with Jonathan and Steve, nodding along to whatever they were talking about now.

El rolled her eyes again, pushing his hand off her face “He obviously likes you back Mike. I don’t see the problem. Besides, you started flirting with him the moment you saw him.”

Mike cleared his throat “Yeah, but he probably just thought I was being weird.”

El stared at him with a look of disbelief “Oh my god. You are an idiot. Why did I ever date you?”

“Hey!�� Mike complained.

“Hey you two! Stop conspiring and come practice.” Steve called over to them. They turned to see Steve waving them over as Jonathan patted his brother on the shoulder, whispering something to him that made him pink a little and shove Jonathan, who just laughed and patted his shoulder again before heading towards his drum set.

“Coming!” El replied and slapped Mike on the shoulder, “Good luck.” And added with a lowered voice as she walked away, “Poor Will.”

"Hey! What is that supposed to mean!?" Mike called after her, offended.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." She replied with a wave of her hand, "Hopefully."

#stranger things #byler #byeler #Mike’s whole pov in this would pretty much be -#oh my god its Will!!! quick act like you dont know him so you’re not too obvious #he is so cute oh my god!!!#am I flirting too much?? why the hell did i say that about hands?#wait is he flirting back? no mike couldn't be that lucky #abort abort! back it up mike back it up! you are being too obvious and will scare him away #great now he thinks i just really want to teach him the guitar #and just overall gay panic #Cell writes #I did a few small edits on this

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ice-cream-nekogirl · 5 years

Text

Emo and Proud (Shinsou Hitoshi X Reader)

Summary: You decide to give Shinsou some music therapy by encouraging him to sing along with you to vent out your stress and some deeper feelings are revealed.

Hehe one of my headcanons is that Shinsou is a big-time MCR fan, in a way like Misty Day is a fan of Stevie Nicks from American Horror Story :3

BTW SORRY FOR ANY OOC-NESS!!

Featuring: Our Favorite Purple Boy!

You sighed as you finished watching Aggretsuko for the 10th time on your phone.

It was such a cute show even with it’s 15 minute episode runtime. That poor little adorable red panda; you wondered if you would ever end up like that someday since you were going to be a pro-hero someday, and it wasn’t exactly a glamorous job for everyone.

If there’s one thing that show taught you, it’s that music is one of the most life-saving outlets to vent out your emotions. And boy was that true, because your music was pretty much one of your sanctuaries that let you feel and express yourself whenever you sang to yourself or just let all your old nostalgia come back to you in the comfort of your room.

But it was time to pull an Aggretsuko and use the power of music to relieve the stress you had been feeling after the Joint Training and training in general. You knew being a hero would be hard work, but damn, your teacher was starting to look more like a slave-driver at this point.

Thankfully, somehow everyone had managed to catch a break since nothing was really going on… yet at least. And to salvage this break, you secluded yourself from your friends, as much as you loved them, sometimes you needed some alone time.

So, you politely declined their invite to the arcade and stood behind in the dorms. Once you were sure that most of them were gone, you set up a TV you had brought since you couldn’t live without a large-enough television and for the movie nights for weekends.

You hooked it up to your phone and grabbed a brush to act as a makeshift microphone from your room and played up an old nostalgic song from the singer who rose up yet again. It’s a good thing nobody was here, because you were really rocking out and banging your head with the guitar solo. Not that you would have cared, but you didn’t care for some of the remarks you would get, especially from that jackass Bakugou or that snarky chick Jirou.

“Try to tell me what I shouldn’t do.You should know by now, I won’t listen to you. Walk around with my hands up in the air, ‘cause I don’t care… ‘Cause I’m alright, I’m fine! Just freak out let it go!”

Dancing a little bit and raising your fist, you sang as loud as you could and really let yourself cut loose, so much that you were oblivious to someone entering the room who had taken the time to pause and stare at you as you danced.

“I’m gonna live my life, I can’t ever run and hide I won’t compromise ‘cause I’ll never know. I’m gonna close my eyes, I can’t watch the time go by. I won’t keep it inside! Freak out let it go! Just freak out let it go!”

You were flailing your arms about, flipping your (H/L) hair as much as you could, shaking your butt as you pumped your fists to get back in tune with your inner Avril. The music was so loud you couldn’t hear the very quiet snickers coming from your audience.

“Gonna freak out let it go! Gonna freak out let it go!”

Banging your head as the final riff ended you threw your arms up vigorously, “WHOO!” You shouted, turning around with a big grin that dramatically and comically fell as soon as you saw the person you had no idea had been watching you just about the whole time…

“OH GOD! H-Hitoshi!!”

Wild purple hair and all, beautiful, tired purple eyes gleaming with such amusement as his lips were lined with a smirk. He slowly brought his hands up to give you a deliberately slow clap.

“Impressive…” Shinsou finally spoke up, his tone sounding casual and low-key as possible but you knew that this was clearly extremely amusing to him as your face involuntarily grew hot.

“How much of that did you hear… and see…?” You shouldn’t have asked that, but you were curious.

“Everything from ‘Try to tell me what I shouldn’t do’.” He answered you and you sighed a bit, shrugging your shoulders with your hands up in defeat.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be here… sometimes you just need time to yourself ya know?” Sighing, you almost felt embarrassed. Shinsou wasn’t even in your class at the beginning and yet you befriended him during the Sports Festival a LOT quicker than you did your own classmates. It all started when you asked for him to be on your team, which shocked the hell out of him since he didn’t even have to brainwash you like he did Ojiro and Aoyama. And from then, you two just clicked and stood in touch.

“I know. That’s why I didn’t go with the rest of the others.” He agreed with your sentiment, which made you actually kind of happy.

Shinsou was a complete introvert, and yet you managed to get through to him due to similar interests in music, especially when you discussed how the two of you were ‘permanently stuck in your emo phases’. And then you knew about his fondness for cats, which you found extremely adorable since you had a soft spot for cats yourself.

Finally, there was your quirks, and you knew all about the prejudice he got from people simply because his Brainwashing quirk gave him the ability to control people. You had gotten somewhat similar flak for your quirk since your quirk also allowed you to control people, except you had control over their bodies and not their minds.

Emo birds of a feather gloomed and listened to MCR together.

The more you two talked, the closer you became. Which is why you were overjoyed when he started training with Aizawa and finally got into the Hero Course with you and your friends.

But the problem was… now that you were closer to him, you had fallen almost hopelessly in love with him. And now you just embarrassed yourself in front of him even though the plan was to have some time for yourself. However, because you liked Shinsou so much, it was always okay for him to be around you; you could relate to him and you never wanted him to feel like he couldn’t be around you.

“Well hey. We can be alone together… you’re one of the very few people who don’t annoy me. And EVERYONE annoys me.” You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“I can say the exact same thing about you.” Shinsou said as he took a seat on the couch, sighing heavily as you frowned a bit and went over to him. He’d been working extra hard since Aizawa took him under his wing, you were sure that he must have been exhausted.

“Dude you need to relax…” You said, setting your brush down and placing your hands on his shoulders that made him freeze ever so slightly from the unexpected touch. But he wouldn’t ever make himself appear flustered in front of you so he kept his cool.

“It’s not easy to relax when you’re constantly working… even on break-days like these…” He muttered a bit as you started to massage his shoulders a bit.

“Yeah but you can still try! You work too hard man… Aizawa’s really been kicking your ass ever since he took you up… I mean yeah it’s awesome that you’re with us now but you need a goddamn break dude…” You said gently despite your language, digging into his shoulder blades as he grunted a bit but then sighed quietly in content with how good your fingers felt on his sore muscles. Muscles he’d been growing ever since he started training that is…

“I might just sleep or something… that’s a smart way to take a break.” He said, but you immediately shut that idea down.

“Ugh, you’re training WITH Aizawa, not training to BE Aizawa, Hitoshi. Sleeping is great, but you know what else is great? Singing~.” You sang that to get your point across but that just served to irk the purple-haired boy even as he let out a small groan when you got another sore spot that helped him ease up a little bit.

He sighed again, “I don’t sing… I’m probably not even good at it…”

“I’m not good at it but I still do it! You ain’t gotta be good at singing to do it, it’s just fun! Plus you get to vent out everything in the lyrics of awesome songs! Avril Lavigne, Evanescence, Good Charlotte, Three Days Grace, Simple Plan, My Chemical Romance!” You exclaimed and listed out some of the many singers that you enjoyed during your emo phase and STILL enjoyed.

Shinsou didn’t flinch, but hearing those names nearly made him perk up since he DID like all of those groups and singers. Especially My Chemical Romance…

“I mean those guys defined our childhood and shaped up the emo phase that we grew up with and loved because we just didn’t give a fuck about anything and just sang the loser anthems that spoke of our existences at the time… It was a time to be alive because it allowed us to say ‘I am emo and I am proud’.” You somewhat dramatically explained and Shinsou gave you a look when you stopped massaging his shoulders and started talking nonsense.

“It’s who we are Hitoshi! We have all these feelings that we need to vent out! And remind people of the times we grew up in! Say it with me! I am emo and I am proud!” You threw your fist in the air, and naturally Shinsou didn’t follow you as he just stared at you.

”Did you watch Aggretsuko again?” He knew you loved singing, but he had a feeling that one of your favorite modern cartoons had something to do with this little idea of ours.

“Yes… yes I have…” You replied to him rather nonchalantly.

“You watch way too much cartoons…” He shook his head, trying his hardest to not smile or snicker at how stupid you sounded.

“Cartoons also defined my childhood because sometimes you needed a break from your emo phase bro… but my point is… just try it. I sang my heart out to Avril and I already feel a ton better! Aggretsuko teaches that and it’s an excellent lesson!’” You threw your hands up cheerfully, but Shinsou just stared at you with his deadpan look.

“Okay, you must have me confused with someone who does embarrassing things without a care in the world.” He snarked, trying to not show that this kinda thing made him feel a little… nervous. Especially with you here. He wasn’t ready to embarrass himself in front of you, not after you had to watch him lose to Midoriya in the Sports Fest.

And he nearly jumped when you suddenly put your arm around him. “Tosh… it’s ME. You know I’d never judge you. I mean you don’t have to… but I’m sure you’d be awesome at it… you’ve sung a few of your emo phase songs to yourself with the door closed whenever you got in one of those ‘fuck the world’ moods haven’t you?” You softly reassured him, giving him a choice even as you asked him a question.

Shinsou willed himself to not blush with how close you were and how you touched him like that, instead focusing on your words as he looked somewhat defeated. “Yes…”

He gave a heavy sigh. As much as he didn’t entirely want to, he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you were trying to just help him relax. Shinsou would only EVER sing for you.

“Okay… I’ll do one. But you’re not allowed to laugh.” Shinsou finally and reluctantly complied and you practically screamed from joy.

“YES!!! Let’s get out Emo on!” You hugged him suddenly , doing a bit of a dance when you finally got your wallflower friend to try this out with you.

So you gladly grabbed your phone to start looking up a selection of songs, as Shinsou sighed again, unable to believe that he was actually doing this. Well, he trusted you, and generally had fun whenever he did things with you. And although you were more energetic than he was at times, he didn’t mind. He enjoyed that you had more zest than he did.

“All right! Here’s one! Take it Toshi!” You suddenly tossed him your hairbrush, and he quickly caught it, giving you a look afterward.

“(Y/N)…” Shinsou was beginning to feel a bit of nerves even though he shouldn’t have, but it got worse when he saw the song you chose.

This was one of his FAVORITE songs.

“No I can’t… I can’t do Gerard any justice…” He muttered a bit self-consciously, but you just shook your head.

“Yes you can! No one’s a bigger fan of Gerard than you are! Now go on! I’m with ya Toshi!” You smiled wide at him to ease him up, and you took the floor when the song immediately started up

“Long ago, just like the hearse, you die to get in again… we are so far from you…”

Deliberately, you whispered that last part to imitate how the song went, and looked right at Shinsou to cue him to go next. He appeared unsure for a bit, until he took a quick breath.

“Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate… the lives of everyone you know! And what’s the worst you take from every heart you break… And like a blade you stain, well, I’ve been holding on tonight…!”

You nearly jumped as soon as THAT voice came out of Shinsou’s mouth. So much energy and passion as he became MUCH more expressive as he sang the song. His singing voice a lot louder and emotional than his speaking one, and yet there was something haunting and tortured about his voice too. It was beautiful…

However, Shinsou suddenly became more adorable in your eyes as he clutched the hairbrush close to him as he sung and and waved his arm about, as if to follow the way Gerard moved and sung in the music video.

As he sung, at that moment he remembered that you were here as soon as he saw your wide (E/C) eyes and agape mouth. You saw his cheeks beginning to redden as he nearly halted in the verse but you shook your head vigorously, wanting to encourage him to keep going!

“What’s the worst that I could say?”

“Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~!“

You jumped in, singing the first part before bringing your hairbrush over to Shinsou, and he gladly sang the rest along with you. Although you had to whoop when Shinsou got into it, running a hand through his wild hair and following Gerard’s every move from the video.

Crazy, passionate expression and everything and making the same hand gestures and you couldn’t help but dance just as wild as the dancers did and some air guitar, following Shinsou’s rhythm.

“Came a time when every star fall brought you to tears again… we are the very hurt you sold. And what’s the worst you take from every heart you break… And like a blade you stain, well, I’ve been holding on tonight…!”

“What’s the worst that I could say? Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~! Well, if you carry on this way, things are better if I stay… So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight…!”

Encouraged, by your enthusiasm, Shinsou got on his knees as he sung the chorus with the loudest voice you had ever heard from him. Although he stood back up a little dramatically when the last bridge came.

He took your hand gently, pulling you in closer as he continued to sing, in a softer, almost whispery voice.

“Can you hear me…?”

“Are you near me…?”

Shinsou looked you right in the eyes, purple eyes luring your (E/C) eyes in an almost intimate moment as your cheeks flushed pink. It felt like this was just for you, and Shinsou made sure of it as he gently pressed his forehead against yours. Silently telling you that this was for you, and that only you could see him bear his soul like this.

You quietly gasped, for a moment you nearly felt like you were in his control because of how his voice just captivated you. But feeling extremely relaxed and yet fluttery with joy as you giggled a bit. When he pulled away, you saw his own face become bashfully flushed as you grinned when he started to sing again.

“Can we pretend to leave and then…”

“We’ll meet again, when both our cars collide!”

While Shinsou sung, you followed his lead, widening your eyes dramatically and pretending to fall backwards like the girl in the video as the chorus came.

“What’s the worst that I could say? Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~! Well, if you carry on this way, things are better if I stay…So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight…!”

Feeling more invigorated than ever before, Shinsou sang the chorus a little louder, yet still on-key as put his hand over his heart and bore the rest of his soul out.

And when he finished the song, he promptly dropped your hairbrush and you threw both your hands up in the air. “WHOOOO!! That’s my Toshi!” You practically screamed, almost like a fangirl as you quickly threw yourself into him, hugging him tightly and jumping a little bit as Shinsou’s eyes grew slightly wide and he felt his face heating up a bit. He was confident during the song, but now his bashfulness came back.

“That was AWESOME! I didn’t even know you could sing!”

Shinsou really hated his pale skin sometimes, because now he couldn’t hide how much he was blushing from all of your praise.

“I don’t do it much… just in private… I don’t think I’m that good…” He normally wasn’t timid, but you were complimenting him so much and he wasn’t used to that kind of praise. He liked it a lot though, it just made him feel kind of nervous, and yet validated.

“Well you freakin’ ROCKED dude! You totally did Gerard justice!” You continued the compliments, adoring just how red Shinsou was turning as he rubbed the back of his neck and coyly grinned.

“You’re just saying that…” He mumbled a little bit, and for once he flinched when he felt lips pecking his already hot cheek as you giggled and blushed, shaking your head.

“Nope! I mean it… and… I mean it when I say this but… Hitoshi… I think… no… I know… I uh… I like you… not even that… I like-like you…” There you said it, you finally admitted your feelings for the guy. You were a little unsure, but that song and seeing him unleash the soul you fell in love with just brought out the rest of your feelings for him.

Shinsou was taken by surprise. Nothing fazed him that much, but for once he was taken aback, his purple eyes wide and his expression that one of surprise and disbelief. He’s NEVER had this happen to him before. No one’s ever like-liked him before.

“W-What?” He didn’t mean to stutter, but he couldn’t really help it.

“Hee-hee… I’m in love with you…” Giggling shyly, your cheeks began to darken, “Don’t make me say it again, my heart’s like, beating out of my chest…” You shyly said, and although Shinsou was still blushing, he started to smirk a little bit when he saw just how flushed you were. He knew you weren’t lying, but he was still amazed that SOMEONE actually like-liked him. And yet he was also overjoyed that someone he felt close to and actually liked, like-liked him. And if he was being honest, he like-liked you too.

“Well... I actually like-like you too... you’re the only person I think I completely trust.” He admitted, still giving you his little smile. Shinsou wasn’t lying, he’d never show anyone what a dork he could be, except for you. Because you were just as big an emo dork as he was. You were his dork, and he was your dork.

Your eyes went huge and you blushed heavily when he... reciprocated your feelings?! Was this for real? It had to be. Shinsou never lied to you, he layed jokes on you sometimes, but this wasn’t one of them...

“For real...?”

“Yes. You’re a complete dork. But... you’re my dork.” Shinsou finally admitted, it wouldn’t be a common thing, but he had to get that across to you just so you wouldn’t faint from how red you were. And he almost jumped when you screamed and hugged him again, very much like a fangirl almost.

“AHHHH! You know it! And you’re MY dork too!” You happily exclaimed, hugging him tightly as Shinsou sighed a little bit, but found it in him to hug you back with a little smile.

He’d never say it to anyone, but he loved his dork.

~~~Bonus Ending~~~

"We are not alone..." You suddenly perked up where you hugged Shinsou, and he sensed that too. Somebody else was around, and probably eavesdropping on the two of you. "I think I know who." He said lowly, albeit he wasn't entirely bothered; he wasn't happy, but he wasn't bothered either since this person was your friend.

"Ohhhh..." Giggling, you figured out who it was based on that alone. "Hey! Tokoyami! Come out dude I know you're hiding back there." You blatantly called him out, but of course Tokoyami himself didn't reply from the corner.

"No we're not!" Dark Shadow replied for him, and you could hear Tokoyami's annoyed, deep sigh.

"My apologies. It wasn't my intention to eavesdrop..." The crow-headed boy slowly came out of hiding as you waved to him, while Shinsou looked mildly annoyed, having assumed that you were his only audience.

"Oh really? Heh... let me guess... did you hear the song?" You raised a brow, as much as you could at least and Tokoyami looked downwards, almost as if he were a little embarrassed even though you knew he had the same tastes in music you and Shinsou did.

"Yes... I did. It was very impressive. Like Gerard Way was reawakened from his slumber." He somewhat dramatically said as you smiled wide and giggled, patting Shinsou on the back happily. "I know right?! See Tosh! You're AWESOME! And Tokoyami here is one of us! Let's let him hang with us!" You cheerfully suggested, which just annoyed Shinsou even more. However, Tokoyami was pretty harmless and didn't seem to have a thing for you. Even if he did, it was too late because you were his now.

"Okay. I don't see the harm." Shinsou shrugged his shoulders as you happily clapped your hands. "Ahaha! Tokoyami! Hope ya don't mind singing!" That made the similarly emo boy perk up ever so slightly. He didn't plan on singing...

"I'm not a singer." Tokoyami quickly replied. Much like Shinsou, he wasn't entirely willing to show off because he doubted his abilities, but you weren't going to let him feel so insecure as you started the next song.

"You will be!" You smirked, winking at Shinsou as you immediately started to sing the first lyrics. A song you knew no true emo like Tokoyami could ever resist.

"Oh, well imagine, as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor and I can't help but to hear. No, I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words~."

You got into it and picked your head up as soon as you sang the first part, running a hand through hair as you sang in your hairbrush, not so subtly flirting with Shinsou as he couldn't help but smirk as you gave him your brush to let him take the next part.

"What a beautiful wedding! What a beautiful wedding, says a bridesmaid to a waiter, and, yes, but what a shame, what a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore."

Shinsou gladly sung, which surprised you a little bit because he was more comfortable when it was only you. And he was, but he knew that you and Tokoyami were just friends, even if the guy liked you it was too late. You were all his now. Still, he would let the fellow emo join in since he was very like-minded and wouldn't judge you both. However, you both just made him feel a little nervous, it didn't help when you gave him the hairbrush...

But Tokoyami knew this song by heart. Every lyric, every rhythm...

He couldn't help it.

"I chime in with a 'Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?' No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality!”

Now you and Shinsou were shocked, both of your eyes growing wide when the ever-so-stoic, dark prince-y bird boy Tokoyami, of ALL people, actually singing with an almost uncharacteristic enthusiasm as he held onto the hairbrush you gave him and sung into it.

But you couldn't help but smile wide, glancing at Shinsou as he shrugged with a small smile. The bird was shocking pretty good too. Might as well join in.

"I chime in with a 'Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?!' No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of... poise and rationality! Again..."

Following Tokoyami's lead, you and Shinsou acted as his back-up singers by singing the chorus with him and you provided the crazy dances as the three of you vigorously rocked out.

Emo and proud.

~~~Extra Bonus Ending~~~

Meanwhile downstairs...

"Man it sounds like they're having fun up there..." Kirishima and the rest of the 'Bakusquad' had returned to Heights Alliance early, and you had pretty much put your music on full blast once you hooked it up to the TV. And didn't count on anyone coming back so quick...

"I kinda wanna go up and join em!" Kaminari was getting into the music he was hearing through the walls. "YEAH! Let's go and party with those guys!" Mina would never say no to cutting lose and dancing to awesome music.

"I'm sure (Y/N) will let us. Most of us..." Sero shrugged his shoulders with his casual smile, having known you fairly well but he wasn't so sure you would let ALL of them hang out since you and Bakugou never really entirely got along.

"Amateurs..." Bakugou muttered under his breath as he marched upstairs to go to the floor you were occupying. You were being WAY too damn loud, but at that moment he decided he'd show you how a REAL singer sings My Chemical Romance.

SO LONG AND GOOD NIGHT TUMBLR!!!!

I own nothing :3

143 notes · View notes

uas-art · 5 years

Text

Title: The Pandering Country Western Star

Summary: Craig is a closeted country star. Tweek is an internet famous singer who's been out since middle school. when Craig’s ex outs him to a magazine, can Tweek be of any help to Craig in his time of need?

Ships: Creek, Revin, mentioned Stendy, past Cramos

Rating: T

Other: This was a cathartic story to deal with my coworkers being assholes :)

~~~~~~~~

Craig tipped back his head, downing the last of his drink.

Stan raised an eyebrow at him. "So, it's been fifteen minutes. Are you finally going to tell me what happened?"

Craig signaled the bartender for another Coke. He wanted to get absolutely wasted and completely forget the betrayal, but he couldn't risk that he might do something that would drag his reputation down worse than it already would be next week.

"Thomas." Craig fished out a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the bartender. "Just keep bringing whatever drinks you have cold and around until that runs out." He instructed the bartender, who then looked at her regular, Stan.

Stan just shrugged. "What's left over can pay off my tab, I guess."

She nodded and left the men to their own devices.

Stan sipped his Sprite. "What about Thomas? You two break up?"

Craig stirred the ice in his glass. "We are now." He groaned, shoulders slumping forward. "Stan, my career is over. He told a magazine."

Stan choked on his drink. He beat his chest and earned a look from the bartender. He waved her concerns off with his hand.

"'Told'? 'Told' like..." Stan lowered his voice, "like he told a magazine you're gay?"

Craig nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Not just any magazine. Fucking 'Country And Western Life' —the biggest country music magazine. I am boned."

Stan made a sound of understanding, reaching out to pat Craig's back. Stan was in the unique position of having some empathy for Craig's situation. His music career was ruined by gossipy journalism digging too deep into his personal life as well, though, Stan's career hadn't nearly made it as big as Craig's.

His band had one single make it to number one on the top forty charts, and that was mainly because it was in a low budget action spoof that was an unexpected box office success.

Craig had one song make it to number two, and three others make it into the top ten on the country charts. A collaboration he did with another, older star, made it to number one and held the spot for nearly three weeks.

Stan's fall from grace was not nearly as big of a crash and burn as Craig's would be.

"I don't understand why he'd do this." Craig shook his head. "I thought we had something special. Fucking wrong there, I guess."

"What did your manager say?" Stan asked.

Craig raised a shoulder in a shrug. "Red said she'd leave it up to me. I could deny it, but since I don't know what Thomas brought to 'Country And Western Life', I might end up making myself look like a fool. Or I could just come out myself before it publishes and take the thunder from them, but then..." He shuddered.

"You'd have to deal with a legion of homophobic ex-fans throwing Bible verses at you and saying you're doing it to pander to gay people and trying to be some SJW?" Stan finished.

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose my fan base."

"Well, I can tell you from experience, stepping out of the limelight and settling into a nice domestic life isn't terrible." Stan unlocked his phone and began to turn it towards Craig, but he raised his hand to stop him.

"I don't want to see pictures of your partner and kids." Craig rolled his eyes.

Stan huffed in offence but put his phone in his pocket. "Honestly, Craig? I think you're worrying too much. It's twenty-nineteen. Not as many people as you're expecting will care that your gay. A vocal few, sure, but even if some people are against queer people, they'll ignore it for the sake of your music and work. It'll only be a big deal if you make it one."

He raised his glass slightly. "Or that's what happened when Wendyl and I came out. We still have to block some assholes who spam our accounts sometimes, but once the first 'outrage' died down, we actually got more fans. I don't know if I'm good representation for people, but I think Wendyl is, at least." He smiled fondly at the thought of his partner.

Even though he made a snort at Stan, he was glad that they were happy together. When they were just college roommates, Craig was sure he and Wendyl wouldn't actually make it past the first few dates. Somehow they did though.

That was more than Craig could say about his relationship. He honestly thought Thomas might be the one. He'd occasionally even brought up the idea of a secret wedding, usually as a joke, to test the waters. Thomas never answered him seriously, but he never said he would be against it. The tabloids would have a field day if he started wearing a wedding ring.

Not that that mattered anymore...

Craig set his straw down to drink the coke from the glass. He let a chunk of ice fall into his mouth and crunched down hard on it.

"The difference between you and Wendyl and me is you and Wendyl were retired from your music days. No one talks about 'Moop' anymore. 'Craig Tucker' is a household name," Craig pointed out. "You weren't making hard rock for the radio. You two are activists for animals. One of those lends itself well to a non-binary person and their bisexual husband — and it's not the first one."

Stan rolled his eyes. "That sounded like an insult, but you're feeling like shit so I'll let it slide." He sucked a breath through his teeth. "Craig, dude, I really wish I could help you out here, but...I don't know. I don't think your career is over. You're overreacting. You can still make money as a country star. It'll be rough as hell these next few months, but if you just keep on keeping on, it'll be fine. Show everyone you accept yourself for you and don't care what anyone else thinks."

"Besides, " He rolled his wrist as he spoke, "someone will do something else, have an affair, use a slur in an interview, die, and everyone will move on. It's the music industry. They have the attention span of a gnat."

Craig grunted, burying his face in his arms. Why did he think Stan would actually be able to help him? A country star being gay was a totally different ballpark than a rock star going on a drunken stupor in his underwear through New York.

"So you vote for going out on Twitter and telling everyone myself then? Is that what I'm hearing?" Craig asked as he peeked up to stare past Stan towards the stage.

The folk band finished their set and bowed to the applauding crowd. From the little bits Craig had paid attention too, the folk band wasn't that bad, but the violinist and guitarist needed to work on their harmonies together. They clashed more often than not, fighting each other for the melody with their volume and drowning out the other members.

Stan shrugged. "I guess. At least it's from your mouth and not your ex's."

A single singer with a guitar came on stage now. He was handsome: soft blond hair, round face, a little chubby. Half of him screamed 'country singer', the other half...didn't. He had on a green-gray striped western shirt, brown vest, and a worn cowboy hat above the hips. On the other hand, below the hips, he had on beat up, dirty Converse sneakers and washed out skinny jeans with intentional holes in the knees.

Craig sat up a little to stare at the singer. He whistled quietly.

"Guess if everyone is going to know, it doesn't matter if I stare, does it? Damn." Craig nodded to himself. "He's a mess, but...damn."

Stan followed his gaze to the stage as the singer introduced himself as 'Tweek'. He didn't have the accent Craig was used to hearing from country singers.

"Oh, him? He's a nice guy, actually. Little too anxious, but ok voice nonetheless," Stan told him. "He must want to do country covers tonight. Usually, he wears a normal button up, but not when he sings Conway Twitty and Johnny Cash."

"He ever covered any of my songs?" Craig questioned.

"Yes and no," Stan smirked, "he rarely does any modern country songs. Not unless he really likes them, but I've heard him sing 'You Never Even Called Me By My Name' before."

Craig mock punched Stan in the arm, making him spill part of his Sprite. Stan glared at him before reaching for a napkin to mop up the mess.

Tweek nodded to a man sitting next to the stage to hit play on a recording. The opening piano began as he strummed, tapping his foot. He took a breath and began to sing.

"The bar was empty. I was sweeping up the floor."

Even hearing only the first line, Craig could tell this man had none of the twang that gave the song some of its charm. His voice also didn't go quite as low as Brad Paisley's did naturally, either. He was about to mention this to Stan when Tweek sang the next line, and Craig froze.

"That's when he walked in. I said, 'I'm sorry but we're closed."

"He changed the pronouns," Craig muttered to himself. Stan smirked again at him before shushing Craig with a finger to his lips.

After that, Craig listened more closely. All throughout the entirety of 'We Danced', Tweek kept changing the pronouns from 'she' to 'he'. He even, albeit somewhat clumsily, changed a few other words and phrases as well ('purse' to 'wallet' and 'diamond ring' to 'golden band') confirming that he was singing this song about a man.

"He's not bad," Stan leaned back to speak, "don't you think?"

"Yeah, I mean," Craig shook himself, but it didn't do as much as he hoped, "it's ok. He's ok. He's singing a bit lower than I think he can comfortably do, but he holds the notes nicely and...yeah. He's ok."

Stan chuckled, giving Craig a knowing smile that Craig ignored, instead focusing on Tweek. The crowd clapped when Tweek finished his song before he started up another. Through his entire set, he changed the songs the same way.

After Tweek finished his last cover of 'As She's Walking Away'--'As He's Walking Away'? Craig wasn't sure--he thanked the audience, "Um, thank you, everyone. Have a good night and be safe getting home. Call a cab if you need it." He waved and headed off the stage.

Craig started to get out of his chair before he could help himself. Stan put a hand on his stomach.

"Do you want to meet him?" Stan asked, his eyes glittering.

"W-what?" Craig blinked. He straightened up and quickly took his seat. He sat in the corner of the bar to avoid being identified for a reason.

"Do you want to meet him?" He repeated. "I know Tweek. I can introduce you if you'd like."

Craig narrowed his eyes. "Was this planned, Marsh? Did Red set this up?"

"Happy accident." Stan laughed, jumping from his seat. "Come on, Tweek usually cools down after being on stage out back with his friend, manager, person, Jimmy."

Craig raised an eyebrow but stood anyway to follow Stan out.

~~~~

Tweek and another man sat on the tailgate of a pickup truck that needed a new paint job, new tires, and a new passenger side window. Tweek raised a beer to whatever his friend said with a grin.

"Hey! Tweek, Jimmy! Hey!" Stan waved his arm. "Good show, Tweek."

"Thanks, but it wasn't that good." Tweek took a sip of his beer. "It went ok. I think I sped up a few songs and choruses. Not that that's fully my fault. I was going to sing a different set, but Jimmy brought the wrong CD." He sent a glare at Jimmy, who looked away embarrassed.

"I think it went over w-w-w-well," Jimmy told him matter-of-factly. "Besides, you don’t have 'The M-M-Miss-Missip...' The Squirrel Church Song down yet anyway."

"'Squirrel Church Song'?" Craig stepped around Stan and the two on the tailgate took notice of him for the first time. "You don't mean that Ray Stevens' song, do you?"

Tweek nodded, looking him over as he tried to figure out where he'd seen Craig before.

"Yeah, The Mississippi Squirrel Revival.'" Snapping his fingers to the beat, he sang, "The day the squirrel went berserk in the First Self-Righteous Church--"

"In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula," Craig joined in. Jimmy's eyes grew wide as he made the connection between Craig's voice and his face. His mouth fell open.

With shared grins, the two singers finished the chorus, "It was a fight for survival, that broke out in revival! They were jumpin' pews and shouting 'Hallelujah'!"

Jimmy put his hand on Tweek's arm. "Tweek, that--"

"I know, Jimmy, I know." Tweek rolled his eyes. "I don't have the voice for anything too gospel. Let me have my fun, dude. I'm not on stage."

"No, Tweek, do you know who this is?" He jabbed a finger at Craig. "That C-Cr-Cra-Craig Fucking Tucker!"

Tweek let out a strangled 'WHAT?!' and dropped his beer can. Stan frowned and leaned down, making sure to set it beside Tweek. If Tweek hadn't started yammering on, Stan would have told them to recycle the can when they were done.

"I sang a fucking comedy song with a music star?" Tweek gasped. "Fuck! A professional musician heard me sing on stage? When I was singing a set I hadn’t really practiced!?" His eyes went wide and he stared down at the holes in his knees then groaned, slumping down. " While wearing skinny jeans and a cowboy shirt...!"

Jimmy laughed nervously, waving his hands in front of Tweek.

"He's usually much better than this. It's the beer. I swear." Jimmy forced a smile that Craig could tell was fake. It was the same one Red used when she had to give an answer to a bullshit question to save face.

Stan set a hand on Tweek's shoulder. "Sorry. Should have texted you first before bringing him out, but Craig really enjoyed your show. He wanted to meet you."

"'Meet me'?" Tweek squeaked. "Why?"

Craig shrugged. "Just because." He gestured. "Can I take a seat? Do you mind?"

Jimmy lifted himself up and moved over, exposing a pair of crutches behind him in the bed that Craig hadn't noticed before. Craig sat between them, leaving Stan to use the wheel to hoist himself up and sit in the bed. He accidentally kicked the crutches when he spread his legs out.

"Hey, watch it!" Jimmy scolded. "T-those are new, thank you very much."

"Sorry, Jimmy."

Tweek made a high pitched noise then coughed into his hand. "So, what's a big star like you doing in a bar like this?"

"Is that a pick up line?" Stan asked coyly, making Tweek picked up the empty can and mockingly toss it at him. It missed by a mile and bounced against the metal bed with a clang.

"Stan was a big star before he was an everyday, boring family man." Craig smirked at the glare Stan gave him. "We're friends. I wanted to visit him for the night while I was around."

"Oh, right, Moop. I forget someti..." Tweek trailed off when he realized just how offensive his comment sounded. "Well, that's nice of you to stay in touch with your friend."

"Don't know if I'd go as far as 'friend'..." Stan grumbled, taking out his phone.

They chatted for the next hour or so and Craig learned a lot about Tweek and Jimmy. Jimmy hosted an internet show where he brought what he believed to be up and coming talent on to showcase their skills. Tweek, being his good friend, was the first guest he brought on (or, as Tweek put it 'tricked into a recorded video chat').

Tweek himself had his own channel where he posted covers of whatever song caught his fancy. Just a quick, discrete skim of the YouTube channel confirmed it to Craig. Tweek really did post a little of everything: country, classical, Broadway musicals, folk, rock.

Craig wondered if he was still trying to find his niche or not, and Tweek replied with a shrug.

"My therapist told me to do what makes me happy, and different types of music make me happy," Tweek explained.

"You know what would make me happy? A drink." Jimmy twisted around for his crutches. "Anyone else?"

"I'm good." Tweek shook his head.

Stan opened his mouth to decline when Craig tapped his leg. He flicked his eyes towards Tweek then moved his head a little.

Stan understood, thankfully, and stood up in the bed.

"Craig put tetwenty n on my tab, so I'm getting another Sprite. All drinks are on me whether you want a can or not." He leaped over the side and landed with a stumble on the ground. Quickly correcting himself, he dusted off his pants as if he hadn't nearly landed on his nose.

Tweak looked from Craig than to Jimmy and Stan as they walked away. He chewed his lip and began to stand, calling to wait for him, when Craig cleared his throat.

"May I ask you a personal question?" Craig said quickly, trapping Tweek in a social protocol net.

Tweek twiddled his thumbs together. "Sure. I guess."

"When you sang, you changed the songs. They sounded like you were singing to a man." Craig rested his chin in his palm. "Why is that?"

Tweek's face twisted into an angry, sour expression.

"Because I'm gay and I don't want to sing about girls. I want to sing about men." Tweek's voice came out low and warning. "I'm not making money off my covers or hurting people. It's fine."

Craig recoiled with a frown. "I never said it wasn't."

Tweek eyed his expression a second then frowned himself.

"Sorry. Most of the time when someone asks me that, it's directly followed by how ‘I should be ashamed of myself'." He rolled his eyes.

"Ashamed? For being gay? That's bullshit. It's nothing to be ashamed about." He sounded like a hypocritical anti-bullying program. Realizing this, he quickly added, "or should you be ashamed for singing country without a twang?" He saturated his voice with a deep southern accent on the last word, earning a smile from Tweek.

"Both, actually." Tweek snickered. "I've made some people pretty upset that I can't sing in an accent I don't have. People really like to give me shit for things I can't help."

Craig chuckled. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. Red was calling him.

"Oh, um, one minute, " Craig held up his finger, "and I'll be right back."

He took a few steps away from the truck before answering.

"Yes, cousin dearest?" Craig answered in a deadpan. "Any more news about my toppled career?"

"Depends. Have you decided what you're going to do?" Red asked from the other end of the line. "Are you going to see how the article turns out or are you going to out yourself?"

Craig hummed a minute. Red said the chance that they wouldn't run the article without the part where Thomas outed him was slim to none. That was too good of information for them to just sit on and never profit from.

"I think I'll tell my fans myself." Craig turned over his shoulder to look at the truck. Stan and Jimmy returned with cans in hand. Jimmy tossed one to Tweek, but he missed and it went under the truck.

"The magazine hits the shelves next week. If you're going to do it, you'll need to do it soon," Red advised. "Livestream, maybe. Or a series of heartfelt tweets. Make sure you mention something about God making you gay. That'll work in your favor."

Craig nodded, realized Red couldn't see him, then replied, "Got it."

"I'll start calling around. There will be plenty of news outlets who want to get the inside scoop on this. Tell me when you're planning on posting it. We need you to look in as best of a light as possible. See you, cuz."

She hung up before he could reply.

When he returned to the truck, Stan's legs stuck out from under it as he searched for the missing can. Tweek crouched beside him, holding his phone light out as Jimmy sipped his beer.

"I could just p-p-p-pull the truck forward, you know," Jimmy offered.

"No, I've nearly got it." Stan wriggled forward. "Ah-ha!" There was a thudding, then a dented can bounced out from under the truck. Tweek tried to grab it, only to fall forward into the dirt.

Craig stooped down and plucked the can up. He winced and held it away from himself. Opening the beer would shower everyone around after all the shaking it had endured. He wasn’t risking it.

Stan's head popped up, dusty and a mess, before he hauled himself up onto the tailgate. Craig handed the beer to Jimmy, who, thankfully, had enough sense not to open it.

"Stan, I need to go." Craig shook his phone for emphasis. "Red has a game plan for...what's going to happen."

"Oh, does she?" Stan patted his hair out. "I'd offer to take you to get Wendyl's help if you want it, but I'm driving these knuckleheads home."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "We're fine. Tweek is sober as a saint."

"He had a beer when we walked out," Stan countered.

"He spilled half of it."

"Half a beer is still a beer!" Stan snapped. "You're not drunk driving on my watch."

Craig stepped forward. "I'll drive Tweek home if he wants."

Only after the suggestion left his mouth did he realize how strange that must have sounded. Craig barely knew Tweek from Adam. What reason did he have to offer to help Tweek when he already said he had something else to do?

Tweek took a step back. "I rode with Jimmy here. I can squeeze in or I'll sit in the bed. It's fine. Thank you though."

"No, really, let me take you home. I'm a good driver, I swear."

"No, I'll ride with Stan. He knows the way there already."

"Please?"

Jimmy narrowed his eyes. "He said no, dude. Let it d-drop."

Craig swallowed nervously. "Ok, I guess I have to get used to saying this but listen..."

It was hard to breathe suddenly. His face felt hot. His hands were sweating.

"Yes?" Tweek frowned.

"Listen, I, uh, I..." He hissed a breath out. "My ex-boyfriend outed me to a very popular magazine that is going to out me to the public in a week. My manager suggested I steal some of the magazine's thunder by coming out as gay myself. I would like someone with a little more expertise in this subject than I have to offer suggestions on how I should go about doing this bullshit."

Tweek's mouth hung open, as did Jimmy's. Stan picked up his Sprite can and took a long drink.

"Breathe, Craig. Don't pass out, now. You'll get used to saying it after a little while." He raised his Sprite to him. "Be brave, brother."

Craig ignored him, but did take a deep breath and force his lungs to expand.

"Well? If you don't want to, it doesn't matter that much." Craig tensed despite himself.

Tweek chewed his lower lip. "I, um, do you want my number? I have work tomorrow, so I do need to get home and sleep tonight. We can talk after work, if you want?"

Craig relaxed. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, man."

Stan snorted to himself and shook his head at his drink. Craig resisted the urge to flip him off again as he pulled up a new contact. He and Tweek then exchanged phones.

For a brief moment, Craig wanted to add a heart to the end of his name as the contact, but he shook off the thought as silly and inappropriate. He wasn't going to rebound with a random guy at a bar to get back at Thomas. At least, not until he read the article or got a call back.

Though Red told him not to get his hopes up, he still held onto the dream that Thomas hadn't betrayed him and they could work through this together.

Handing Tweek back his phone, Craig pocketed his.

"I do need to go, too, actually." He said with a thumb jab over his shoulder. "I'll text you tomorrow?"

Tweek nodded but didn't speak. He stared at Craig for a second too long before averting his eyes.

Craig smiled to himself and turned to leave, suddenly feeling a little better about his future.

~~~~

Tweek panicked, pacing circles around his living room.

Stan planned this. That fucker had to. Him or Wendyl. Both of them encouraged him to "settle down" every other time they saw him, and last night Stan just so happens to introduce him to an available, handsome, music star who wants Tweek's advice?

There was no way that was all coincidence!

Tweek fretted about this meeting all day, ever since Craig texted him that morning asking when he could come by.

Why did he agree to this? Tweek had been out since he was a teenager! He hadn't had to hide that he was gay from anyone since becoming semi internet famous.

Jimmy featured him in his LGBTQ creators to follow video last June for fuck's sake! Tweek wasn't able to help Craig with this!

Someone knocked, tearing Tweek from his thoughts.

Vowing that the next time he went to visit Stan, he would slip Stan's children an excessive amount of sugary treats, Tweek dragged his feet to the door.

Craig looked the epitome of a modern country star: striped button up with the first three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up, jeans from a brand that Tweek knew he could never afford, a wooden cross hanging from a leather cord around his neck, and even a cowboy hat.

He had deep bags under his hazel eyes, which Tweek refused to look at for too long. He didn't want to risk being caught admiring the flecks of gold-brown in his iris.

"Hey," Tweek stepped aside and allowed him in, "Craig. How are you?"

"Tired." Craig rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. "My cousin woke me at five in the morning to talk about ideas for telling my fans I'm gay." He reached into his chest pocket to produce a folded sheet of lined paper. "Here's what we got."

Tweek took it but didn't open it. With a wave of his hand, he led Craig through his kitchen. Kiwi, Tweek's bird, raised his head from cleaning his feathers. He twittered at Tweek, walking across the table towards him. Tweek took the bird in his hand. He stroked his feathers as he returned him to his cage in the living room.

"Take a seat," Tweek said before he whistled at Kiwi. Kiwi chirped back then fluttered to sit on a high perch and preen himself in a mirror.

Craig slid onto the couch while Tweek went to his desk chair on the other side of the coffee table.

"Is that bird yours?" Craig eyed Kiwi.

"Yeah. That's Kiwi. My grandma couldn't keep her parrot when she moved, so my parents said I would take her. So I got her budgie, but budgies do better in pairs, so I bought Kiwi to go with my grandma's parrot--oh, her name was Apples. Get it? Apple and Kiwi? She was more yellow than Kiwi is, but," Tweek realized he was babbling and quickly finished his ramble, "Apples passed away last month, so it's just Kiwi now. I'm getting another budgie in a month or two, though. Do you have a pet?"

Craig perked up, some of his tiredness fading. He took his wallet from his pocket. Like a proud father, he flipped it open to reveal a picture of three guinea pigs: a long-haired brown one, a cream colored one with a stripe, and a black and white one.

"This is Petunia," He pointed to the long-haired one. "This is Astro." He moved his finger to the black and white one, "And finally Stripe the Sixth." He tapped the cream colored one.

"‘Sixth'?" Tweek echoed. "What happened to one through five?"

Craig closed his wallet. "Got into the Easter basket, Mom stepped on him, my friend's dog, old age, and old age," he counted off. "I've been keeping them as pets since I was five."

"Anything else?" Tweek sat, setting the paper Craig gave him on the table top.

"What, do you want me to name off pet names for forty head of cattle or a horse?" Craig chuckled and Tweek turned his full attention to his feet. "It's fine, Tweek. I don't own hooved animals."

"Oh, really?" Tweek swallowed. They should change the topic before Tweek made himself look like a complete fool. "We should get started now."

"Sure, if you're ready." Craig pointed to the paper. "Like I said, we spent all morning on it, but you should look over it and make sure we didn't leave anything out."

Tweek didn't touch the paper. "Do the people close to you know? Your parents? Siblings? Best friends?"

Craig blinked in surprise. "Y-yeah? Of course. I told my sister and friends in high school, and I told my parents in college. They know. Why does that matter?"

"Would you want to find out someone you thought trusted you didn't trust you enough to tell you something like they're gay?"

Craig thought on that a moment. "I guess not," He said.

Contented, Tweek finally unfolded the paper. Craig leaned closer, pushing his hat back a little, as he watched Tweek read.

The paper was...something. Tweek couldn't decide what. At times it really did feel heartfelt, but, at times, it also sounded like a celebrity's forced apology.

After reading it once, Tweek stood up and went to his desk. He returned a moment later with a pad of paper and a pencil. As Craig watched him with his eyebrows raised, Tweek organized the parts by level of sincerity.

When he finished, he spun the pad towards Craig and tapped the column with the least sincere sounding parts.

"Can you cut these?"

Craig furrowed his brow as he looked over the lines.

"But, those are important." Craig shook his head. "If I don't mention I'm sorry for hiding it from my fans, they'll get upset and feel betrayed."

"Are you sorry?"

"Yes," Craig replied automatically, robotically. Tweek fixed him with a probing look.

"They're not the ones hiding part of their lives. Their lives aren’t being judged for nothing. You don't owe them an apology," Tweek smiled softly at Craig. "Actually, a lot of these lines here are about your fans. I think only this one about working to make a better future and honest music with them sounds genuine."

Craig pursed his lips. He took a breath and blew it out. The breath whistled through his teeth.

"Why does it have to sound genuine?"

"Because if not, it sounds pandering." Tweek quipped, ripping the organized lines from the pad. As he began to rewrite the speech from scratch, Craig took off his hat and looked down into it with a serious expression on his face.

When he finished, Tweek pushed the pad over. "What do you think of that?"

Craig placed his hat back on, then skimmed the speech. He furrowed his brows and looked up.

"This is good. Really good."

Tweek shrugged, trying to hide the pride he felt.

"Is this how you came out? Did you say these things?" Craig wanted to know, taking a picture of the new script with his phone.

Tweek shook his head. "No. I just blurted it out during dinner one night. Mom and Dad were talking about road work messing their morning drive up and I just shouted ‘I'm gay!' when my dad took a breath. I wanted to tell them for a while, but I could never find the right time." A chuckle and he went on, "Mom said she always kind of knew. Dad said ‘that's nice.' They went right back on talking about the road work."

Craig snorted a laugh. "Really? Your parents sound very chill about it." A sigh. "I hope my fans will be, too."

Tweek reached over and put a hand on Craig's shoulder. "I'm sure they will be. If not, it's not your problem they're homophobes." He squeezed. "Things are really different from a decade ago. Not nearly as many people as you expect will give you flack for kissing boys."

Craig looked up at Tweek's smiling face and returned the expression. He set his hat beside him and pointed towards Kiwi's cage.

"Do you think I could get a better look at your bird? I need a break from all this already, and I do like small animals."

Tweek nodded and promptly jumped to his feet to retrieve Kiwi.

~~~~

Petunia napped on Craig's stomach while Stripe the Sixth munched on hey beside his head. Astro settled himself against Craig's ankle for a snooze.

Red looked over her cousin with a sigh. Her husband, Kevin, tried to peek around her shoulder. Like Craig, Red was taller than average, so Kevin had to step to the side to get a clear view of Craig on the floor of his pet pen.

"Craig, get up."

"Can't. Babies are sleeping." Craig muttered, keeping his own eyes shut. "Just tell me what you think of Tweek's revisions."

Red glanced at the paper in her hand then back up.

"I liked them," Kevin proclaimed. "They sound more...real than what you two had."

"‘Pandering' to the fans is what Tweek said," Craig smiled to himself, "and he wasn't wrong."

"I still think we should focus more on the ‘God made you gay’ bit. I found some verses we could use." Red tapped against her phone.

"I don't want to read Bible verses, Red." Craig slowly opened his eyes. Careful of Petunia, he picked up Stripe the Sixth and held him over his face. Tapping their noses together, Craig went on, "I actually really like how it is now. Short, to the point. It's perfect for me."

Red sighed through her nose before stepping over the low fence. She sat down next to Craig with her legs crossed before plucking Petunia from his stomach to pet in her lap. Petunia looked around after being woken up, pipped once, then snuggled back down into Red's lap.

"I just don't want this to blow up in your face. You've come so far, Craig. I don't want you remembered as ‘that country singer who came out gay and never broke the top twenty again.'"

Craig set Stripe on his chest, scratching the pig's back. He knew that Red was worried. This industry was quick to blow something small out of proportion, destroy someone's life, then move on like it never happened.

"It'll be fine," Craig reassured.

Kevin stepped into the pen now. He bent down and stroked Astro's back. "If you're honest with everyone, I think people will appreciate that," He said. "People like sincerity."

Craig hummed, slowly sitting up.

"Had me my script. I want to read over it again."

He didn't need to read it over. After leaving Tweek's yesterday, he'd been practicing it repeatedly until he could say it it verbatim without looking.

In truth, he just liked Tweek's handwriting. It was a little shaky, but loopy and fun to follow along with his eyes. Craig wondered if he could convince Tweek to write a song with him after the tenth read over, if just so he could read a little more of his handwriting.

He'd listen to some of Tweek's original songs on his channel the night before. They all had a definite show tune quality to them, but Craig figured they could mix their styles. That would be refreshing, to say the least.

He paused a moment, the smile he let on his face falling, to ask, "Red, have you heard any more from Thomas? He still isn't answering my calls."

Red shook her head. "No, nothing else. I'm sorry."

"No, if he wants to hide, then I don't care," Craig grumbled.

He didn't have much more to tell him anyway. The morning before he went to go see Tweek, he'd left Thomas a voicemail telling him they were over. Even if Thomas did gather up his balls enough to call him back, Craig wasn't sure he'd even answer.

Astro woke up and climbed on Kevin's legs as Kevin asked, "Do you have a date for this? The magazine publishes in less than a week."

"Tomorrow," Red answered before Craig opened his mouth. "This happens tomorrow. A live stream, I think, would be best. Butter them up with your guinea pigs," she held up Petunia, "then break the news."

Sitting up, Craig held Stripe to his chest. "Yeah, I guess that'll work." He stood, stretching his back until it popped. "Come on, Stripe, let's go practice while Aunty Red and Uncle Kevin set up my living room and make everything as down-homey as possible."

Red's head snapped up. "We never agreed to that!"

"Oh no, I can't hear you. I'm out of the room. I'm so far away now," Craig deadpanned, keeping his voice at the same level as he left to go practice.

~~~~~

AN: Chapter 2

#sp creek #fanfiction #tweek tweak #craig tucker #stan marsh #jimmy valmer #sp red #kevin stoley #revin #multichapter #I did like ZERO rresearch on how music insdustry works. That wasn't the point of this fic to be accurate

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starwarsnonsense · 5 years

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Top 10 Films of 2018

This is rather delayed (mainly on account of an extended bout of laziness on my part), but I was still determined to get it out there! While I don’t think 2018 quite reached the heights of 2017 (nothing matched The Last Jedi or Blade Runner 2049, for example), there was still a lot of great cinema.

As always, keeping this list at 10 meant I had to omit some great titles. Just so you get an idea of what I had to leave out, here are some honourable mentions: Eighth Grade, Lady Bird, Revenge, Phantom Thread, Thoroughbreds, Lean on Pete and Game Night.

1. Roma, dir. Alfonso Cuarón

Roma is a deeply special film, and I’m very fortunate in having got to see it in the best possible circumstances - projected on a huge cinema screen, with its gorgeous, silvery cinematography a marvel to witness. This film takes the kind of life that would usually be forgotten and turns it into an epic, interweaving the story of a loving, resilient housemaid with the seismic political events unfolding in Mexico in the early 1970s. The shots are highly symmetrical and geometric, with characters passing in and out of pre-established frames. But this is clearly intentional, and - to me at least - the story felt no less personal for it. There are several all-time great scenes in this film, and while I don’t want to spoil any of them with extended descriptions, I will say that there’s a sequence in a hospital that balances the mundane and the monumental in an extraordinary and heartbreaking way. This is breathtaking, masterful filming, and I felt it did justice to Cleo’s life without ever attempting to claim her experience. The film is quiet and the dialogue is almost perfunctory, relying heavily on its visuals - it’s cinema at its purest.

2. Annihilation, dir. Alex Garland

True story: I was so desperate to see Annihilation in a cinema that I flew to New York for it. Of course Annihilation wasn’t my sole reason for travelling to New York, but you can be damn sure I made a point of tracking down an Alamo Drafthouse that was showing it. And boy was it worth it. This movie does a magnificent job of fulfilling the potential of sci-fi, taking otherworldly concepts and ideas and using them to interrogate some of the most profound and frightening truths of what it means to be human. This movie has a quietly hypnotic quality to it, and Natalie Portman continues to prove that she is one of the finest modern actors - she says so much with her face and her movements that lines are hardly necessary. I will continue to follow Alex Garland’s career with great interest...

3. Beast, dir. Michael Pearce

Beast was probably my biggest surprise in film in 2018 - I went in expecting nothing, and was bowled over by it to the point that I rushed out to see it again at the first opportunity. This film follows lonely outsider Moll and her ardent love for the mysterious Pascal. There is a heightened, almost supernatural, quality to their romance, and the actors - Jessie Buckley and Johnny Flynn - have electric chemistry. This film delights in playing with the viewer’s fears and suspicions, constantly adjusting them as the characters evolve over the course of the movie. It’s a great fusion of genres - mystery and romance - that also functions as a superb character piece, and it is entirely worth your time.

4. Bad Times at the El Royale, dir. Drew Goddard

This film is bonkers in an amazing way. A bunch of seemingly random strangers gather at a hotel that’s far from its glory days, and it isn’t long before all hell breaks lose. The ensemble here is terrific, with all the cast members playing off each other in a succession of utterly delightful ways. Every character conceals a secret history and motive, with their layers gradually being peeled back as the movie plays out. Special mention must go to Cynthia Erivo, who is simply stupendous as a session singer who I wound up considering the film’s real hero - she’s marvellously charismatic and complex, and her voice is a complete wonder. This film is a messy tangle of mysteries, and I had a wonderful time unravelling them.

5. First Reformed, dir. Paul Schrader

I have a weird soft spot for ‘crisis of faith’ movies (think Silence), and this is a very fine entry into that niche. Ethan Hawke is superb here as a priest attending to an old church that has effectively been reduced to a chintzy tourist attraction, and I found the depiction of how he struggles with his faith, overwhelmed by disillusionment and the immense crises facing the earth, fascinating and beautifully written. Schrader wrote and directed this film, and it is one of his greatest achievements - the dialogue probes deep, never feeling trite or obvious. I also appreciated how the spiritual was so often conflated with the personal, with a thin line drawn being drawn between the divine and the carnal (that end scene is a woozy thing to experience). It’s a beautifully judged film, made all the more fascinating for its ambiguity.

6. Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, dir. Morgan Neville

The greatest testament to the power of this wonderful, good-hearted documentary is probably that I went into it knowing practically nothing about Mr Rodgers (he just wasn’t a thing here in the UK) and left it thinking he’s the hero the world needs right now. I’ve seen so many documentaries illuminating the ugliest parts of humanity that I didn’t realise how much I needed one spotlighting the best bits. But this documentary isn’t pure sentiment, though there’s a lot of that - I found a lot to admire in Mr Rodgers approach to child psychology and education, particularly his conviction that every child can benefit from a warm, steady presence, even of the source of the reassurance happens to be trapped in a TV monitor. I can only hope this inspires a fresh wave of documentaries on similarly worthy subjects.

7. The Wife, dir. Björn Runge

Glenn Close is coming for that Best Actress Oscar and no one can convince me otherwise. With The Wife, the whole movie transparently rests on the shoulders of one woman - Close’s performance is almost sphinx-like, being enigmatic and low-key to the point that her emotions are almost invisible. But their failure to manifest doesn’t mean they don’t exist, and that is perhaps the point of the whole movie. Joan Castleman might seem like the ideal wife of a great author, but she is revealed to be far more than that - a singular individual with dreams, passions, ambitions and regrets. Glenn Close makes the gradual reveal of each facet magnetic, to the point that the slightest twinges of her facial muscles become potent symbols.

8. Blindspotting, dir. Carlos López Estrada

This is an urgent, gripping movie that tackles some of the biggest issues there are. Collin and Miles are friends, but this film sees their friendship challenged, the dynamics underlying it interrogated. I’ve seen movies described as “empathy machines” before, and Blindspotting is a great example of that. It sucks you into the day-to-day experience of living Collin’s life, whether he’s getting a window into the hang-ups of the people whose belongings he is moving (he drives a moving truck) or just chilling out with his friends. Alongside this, it also portrays how terrifying it is to live as a black man in America, how vanishingly little value appears to be placed on your life by those in authority. There’s a rap scene at the film’s climax that consolidates all of Collin’s rage and hurt, and it truly packs a punch.

9. American Animals, dir. Bart Layton

This film portrays a very different side to young American manhood from Blindspotting. Instead of living from day to day, the protagonists of this film start out with pretty much everything they could need - stability, support and good prospects. They choose to unsettle their existence by staging an outrageous heist, clearly dreaming of becoming legends and injecting excitement into their comfortable lives. American Animals does a fantastic job of pulling their plan apart, and since it was based on a true story director Bart Layton does something quite ingenious - he combines real interviews with re-enactments, the filmed scenes being switched out and adjusted according to the conflicting testimonies. In this way, American Animals becomes much more then a depiction of entitled young men seeking to mythologise themselves - it also functions as an interrogation of truth, and the myriad deceptive qualities of cinema.

10. Mission Impossible: Fallout, dir. Christopher McQuarrie

I have no idea how this franchise keeps on stepping up its game, but it does. It reminds me of how the James Bond films ended up taking Bond to space. I can see MI doing that at this point, except we all know that Tom Cruise would actually fly into space for it. With that prelude out of the way, I just need to stress what a fantastic action movie this is. The set-pieces here are marvellously staged, and their execution made them absolutely gripping - I was anxious over every punch, flinching at every cracked bone. McQuarrie is a true master of tension and suspense, and the movie was simply a magnificent ride. I was lucky enough to see this in IMAX with @bastila-bae, and the mere thought of people watching this on smartphones fills me with the rare kind of sorrow known only to shameless film snobs.

Look out for highlights from 2019 - coming up in a few months!

#roma #film #cinema #movie #movies #film in 2018 #review of 2018 #annihilation #beast #first reformed #blindspotting #mission impossible:fallout #american animals #bad times at the el royale #personal #the wife #won't you be my neighbor

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imnotinclinedtomaturity · 6 years

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Love Yourself (Chapter 21)

title: Love Yourself summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista. chapter words: 12.5k story words: 167.5k (so far) chapter: 21/? rating: m warnings: language, alcohol, sex mentions, some bi/homophobia, eventual explicit smut genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn [[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]

a/n: look we all owe @auroraphilealis a massive thank you because she stayed up until 1:30am her time editing with me because i’m a stubborn asshole of a nightowl who was determined to post tonight

Twenty minutes later, Phil stepped into the lobby of Dan’s building — or, at least, he hoped it was Dan’s building. There were apartment buildings to the right and left of Beans and Grind, and Dan hadn’t specified which. Phil had guessed purely based on the fact that he’d watched Dan turn left out of the shop more often than not.

The lobby was nice, fancy in a way that the miniscule entrance to Phil’s building wasn’t. It wasn’t ostentatious, though; it was sleek and modern and, really, looked exactly like the kind of building Dan would live in. In the center of the room, a man in a black suit was perched in a chair behind a tall desk.

“How can I help you?” he asked, setting his book down to address Phil.

“Um, I’m here to see Dan Howell?” Phil requested anxiously. The entire evening had wracked Phil’s nerves, and suddenly having to interact with a doorman was almost too much. “He said he’d tell the doorman to let me up?” Phil said, unsure of how this worked. He’d never been in an apartment building that was nice enough to have a doorman for security, much less one that could let guests in and out of residents’ flats.

The doorman pulled a book out from under the table and turned to a table entitled Howell. “ID?” he requested.

Phil fumbled in his wallet for his ID and nearly dropped it as he placed it on the desk. It seemed to take forever for the man to copy down his license number. Phil’s nerves were already shaken from the fight he’d just witnessed, from the anticipation of visiting Dan’s flat, from the excitement about what might happen there. He really didn’t need the added stress of not knowing how Dan’s fancy building worked.

The doorman slid the book across the desk, gesturing for to Phil to sign next to his name and license number. The page in book was labeled temporary guests, and contained list of names and signatures of other people that must have visited Dan’s flat over time. The neighboring page had a short list of permanent guests — it looked to only be Dan’s family (three different Howells, including Adaline), and Louise Pentland.

And a crossed out Isabella de la Renta.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Phil hoped that someday his name would get to fill in her spot on the list.

The doorman closed the book and handed Phil his ID back. “Right this way, sir,” he said, voice curt as he led Phil to the lift. Phil watched as the doorman inserted a key and pressed the seventh button, baffled that the doorman had to use a key just to let someone onto Dan’s floor.

Jesus, Phil knew that Dan was famous, but that seemed like an absurd amount of security.

However, when the doors opened, Phil realized that the security wasn’t to keep people out of Dan’s hallway, it was to keep people out of Dan’s flat. Rather than opening into a floor with several residences, like Phil had expected, the doors opened directly into Dan’s foyer.

Unsure of what the protocol was when you stepped off a lift and into someone’s apartment, Phil tentatively hollered, “Hello?”

From somewhere down the hallway, Dan yelled, “In the lounge!”

Phil shuffled forward, but hung awkwardly by the foyer door that led into the rest of Dan’s flat. “Erm, I don’t know where your lounge is…”

There were a few loud, clumsy footsteps, followed by Dan’s head peeking around the corner. “Sorry, I’m a terrible host. Come this way.” Dan jerked his head to the right before spinning around and leading Phil through the door.

Obediently, Phil followed Dan into the next room, trying his best to take in his surroundings without loitering. The hallway had pictures hanging all the way down it, but Phil couldn’t tell what they were from here. There were doors, too, cracked open into rooms that Phil couldn’t quite see.

Not wanting Dan to think he was snooping, Phil hurried to catch up.

When Phil entered the lounge, Dan was already standing at a bar cart.

“I decided to be productive while I waited for you,” Dan said, gesturing to a pitcher of clear liquid. “Gin and tonic okay?” he asked, even though he was already pouring two drinks.

“Sounds great,” Phil agreed. He didn’t particularly care what they drank — in fact, he would almost prefer they abandoned the drinks all together, seeing as he was determined to have things happen with Dan when they were both sober.

And tonight, well… Phil had a feeling about tonight.

But Dan had had one hell of an evening, and Phil totally understood why he wanted a drink tonight. Hell, drinking together had been Phil’s idea, so it’s not like he could really protest.

“Let’s sit,” Dan suggested. He made his way over to the couch and sat the pitcher of alcohol down on the coffee table.

All day, they had been toeing a line, precariously teetering right on the edge of a cliff. And now that Phil was finally alone with Dan, now that they were in the privacy of Dan’s flat, Phil wasn’t sure how to push things along — or even if he should push things.

How much space was appropriate to leave between them?

Dan solved Phil’s problem, though, by sitting down right in the middle of the sofa, meaning that wherever Phil sat, he couldn’t possibly be very far from Dan.

That was just fine by him.

As Phil sat on the couch, he finally took in his surroundings.

Judging from the grand foyer, he’d expected the lounge to be lavish. However, this room was much more intimately decorated; the sofa was worn in and appeared to have a permanent crease on one end, and the bookshelves were stocked full of nerdy knickknacks and movies, all arranged in perfectly balanced clutter.

The room was mostly monochrome, with pops of color from the trinkets on the bookshelves and an abundance of plants. Unlike Phil’s television, Dan’s gaming consoles were arranged neatly, and he couldn’t see any of the wires or controllers. Everything hanging on the walls seamlessly tied into the rest of the decor.

“Your plants all look so much happier than mine, it’s not fair,” Phil whined. The was an oversized pot of cacti on the coffee table and they all looked like they were thriving — a sharp contrast to the pitiful, small cactus Phil had next to his kettle.

“Maybe that’s because I actually water mine,” Dan teased with a cheeky smile.

“Shut up,” Phil mumbled. He covered up his slight embarrassment by taking a sip of his drink.

In an attempt to shift the topic away from his inadvertently murderous tendencies towards houseplants, Phil nodded at his drink and said, “It’s great, thanks.”

His viewers gave him enough shit about killing plants; he didn’t need it from Dan, too.

As Phil took another sip, he looked closer at the bookshelves. By this point, Phil was well aware of the fact that Dan was a nerd, but it wasn’t until he actually got a good look at Dan’s bookshelf that Phil realized just how big of a nerd Dan was. There was an entire shelf dedicated to merchandise from Guild Wars, not to mention the plethora of anime figurines. The bottom row of shelves were all dedicated to movies, video games, and board games, several of which Phil owned himself, but some of which he’d never even heard of.

There would be time to dissect Dan’s possessions later, to look over every single item on the shelves and hear the stories behind all of the knickknacks. Right now, though, they needed to talk about everything that had happened with Isabella. Or not talk about that, and talk about them instead. Or not talk at all and fucking kiss already.

Or something. Anything but ruminating in this tense, expectant silence.

“So…” Phil started, but lost his nerve after only a word.

“So…” Dan responded, flashing Phil a soft smile. “Should we talk about what happened down there before we move on — like far, far away from that topic?”

Phil shrugged. He wanted to hear what Dan had to say — and desperately wanted Dan to put some of the things that Phil had heard into context — but he didn’t want to put any pressure on Dan. Phil only wanted Dan to talk if he wanted to talk, not because he thought he owed Phil anything.

“It’s up to you,” Phil said gently, offering Dan what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Dan pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands, and flashed Phil a chagrined look — a look that softened all of Phil’s leftover anxiety from the fight.

Dan drew a deep breath, a bold determination in his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Dan said, humble and genuine. “It wasn’t exactly my finest hour.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil assured him. “If I were in your place, I’m not sure I could have restrained myself any better.”

Phil cut himself off from saying anything else though — even though he was keen on the idea of going on a massive diatribe about how awful Isabella was now that he’d met her. But Phil wanted to give Dan the space to talk, to bring up whatever he wanted.

So Phil stopped talking, waiting in patient silence for Dan to continue.

Dan sighed, and shifted his attention to a loose thread in his ripped skinny jeans. His fingers tugged and pulled, and Phil was worried he was going to make the hole bigger.

“She brings out the worst in me,” Dan muttered, staring down at his lap. “I swear that’s not how I usually am.”

“I know,” Phil murmured sincerely.

Months of knowing Dan had proved that to Phil. Dan was kind and sweet and caring. The Dan that Phil had seen earlier that night, the Dan that screamed and fired shots at people, was nothing like the Dan that Phil knew. And Phil felt like he knew Dan very well by this point.

“Don’t feel like you have to talk about any of that just because she decided to share private stuff in front of me, though.” Phil reached out and stilled Dan’s hand, running his thumb over the back of Dan’s hand before pulling away.

“No, it’s fine,” Dan sighed. He brought a hand up and ruffled his hair, shifting so that he was fully facing Phil. Dan drew his legs up between them so they were criss-crossed, but it didn’t leave much room between him and Phil. As a result, Dan’s knees — and most of his shins — landed on top of Phil “We should probably talk about it. I mean, it’s kind of important I think.”

Phil opened his mouth – to say what, he wasn’t sure. But he wanted to say something to indicate to Dan that yes, downstairs is important to us. So, so much of it seemed relevant to them. Phil wanted to understand everything that was wrong with Isabella, wanted to know just how deeply Dan’s wounds ran. Phil wanted to make sure that he’d never hurt Dan in the same ways that she had.

And, secretly, Phil desperately wanted to know if there was any truth to Isabella’s claim that he had a part — no matter how big or small — in the end of Dan and Isabella’s relationship.

“I’m getting the sense I don’t know the whole story behind your breakup with Isabella,” Phil settled on after several seconds of silently gawking at Dan.

“Um, no,” Dan agreed sheepishly. “I guess I’ve brushed over a few of the details.”

“Why’s that?” Phil wanted to understand — to understand everything about Dan, everything about his past. Shifting a bit, Phil turned so that he was facing Dan, too, one leg sliding between them, still underneath Dan’s. This felt like a conversation they should be properly looking at each other for.

Dan took a long sip of his drink but he had a contemplative look on his face, and Phil knew he wasn’t avoiding the question. “Some of it I just wanted to let go, didn’t want to focus on it anymore.” The liquid in Dan’s mostly-full glass threatened to spill over as he spun it back and forth between his hands. “I was an idiot when it came to her, in a lot of ways. I guess I didn’t really want to admit the full extent of it.”

“How so?” Phil prompted, although he could imagine a few ways Dan had been idiotic when it came to Isabella.

Dan shook his head, and pursed his lips, his eyes flitting up to the ceiling for a second as he seemed to collect his thoughts.

“For the longest time, I told myself that it was fine that we were totally different people. That it was good that we had different ideas of a fun evening because it pushed me to do more.” Dan sighed deeply before continuing. “It took me a long time to see, but eventually I realized that she wasn’t really interested in me, just in Dan Howell and the fame and the perks and the money that came with it. The worst part is that everyone could see it before me.”

Phil frowned. After hearing some of the things that Isabella had said to Dan, Phil couldn’t say he was surprised that Isabella was interested in Dan for reasons that weren’t… Dan, but he was a bit shocked that Dan hadn’t initially been aware of it.

“No one tried to warn you?”

A blush rose from Dan’s neck all the way to the tips of his ears and, oh, maybe people had.

“Not quite in those words,” Dan admitted. “But it was clear that no one liked her. Every time I saw Louise, she would complain about how awful Isabella was.” Dan shook his head and rolled his eyes — he at least looked a little amused at himself. “Hell, even my mum couldn’t stand her and she’s likes everyone.”

“Yikes,” Phil chuckled. “That’s never a good sign, is it?”

“Nope, not at all,” Dan conceded. He brought his glass up to his mouth, and fished an ice cube out with his tongue instead of taking a drink. The room was quiet for a moment as Dan thought, except for the soft crunch crunch crunch of Dan chewing.

“I don’t know why I couldn’t see it,” he finally continued. “I mean, she never wanted to just hang out. She was always pushing to go somewhere, somewhere we could be seen or get expensive dinners or jump the lines at clubs or whatever.” Dan’s hands waved wildly around him, his frustration evident. “It just… wasn’t me.”

The confession didn’t come as much of a surprise to Phil as he thought it should have — not with all of the clues he’d seen. Phil could still remember all of the pictures Isabella had posted online of her and Dan out doing things, the way Dan had made it clear over and over again that he was a massive introvert — two things that didn’t seem to fit together well.

And then there was the phone conversation that Phil had overheard the first time Dan had ever come to his flat, when Isabella demanded that Dan come out with her, and forced him to talk to the bouncer when he refused to leave Phil’s.

With each confession, Phil was able to piece together more and more of what Dan’s day to day relationship with Isabella must have been like, and it was looking worse by the second.

“I think I can count on my hands how many times she willingly came to my flat to just, like, relax,” Dan continued before Phil could say anything. “Fuck, you’ve already been here longer than she ever wanted to stay.”

Dan leaned forward and set his glass on the table — a glass that was still nearly half full, Phil noted.

Good.

As much as Phil knew he couldn’t police Dan’s behavior, Phil really, really wanted Dan to be sober tonight.

Phil took a deep breath and steeled himself to ask a question that he wasn’t sure he wanted — could stomach — the answer to. “Why did you stay with her, then?”

The blush that had previously calmed down on Dan’s face came back in full force. Dan’s sudden embarrassment put Phil on edge, already confirming what he’d suspected.

“I liked having the, um, you know, physical stuff.” Dan looked away and stared steadfastly somewhere behind Phil. “For a long time, I knew what we had wasn’t great, but I thought it was good enough.”

Phil scanned Dan’s face, trying to make sense of the masked emotions he saw. It was hard, though, because Dan still wasn’t looking at him.

He needed to see, he needed to know.

Phil set his drink on the table next to Dan’s and tentatively reached out to cup Dan’s cheek, guiding his head so that he looked more directly at Phil. Dan’s eyes flicked to meet Phil’s gaze, and his lips quirked up into the ghost of a smile. Phil couldn’t resist stroking his thumb over Dan’s cheek, dipping down to where he knew his deep dimple would form if Dan smiled just a bit wider.

Not wanting to push Dan’s limits too far right now — and not wanting to distract too much from the conversation they were having — Phil slowly, reluctantly, pulled his hand away from Dan.

“What changed?” Phil whispered.

Dan reached out and caught Phil’s hand in midair. Flipping his palm over, Dan intertwined their fingers, letting their hands fall to the sofa between them. Dan’s head followed the movement, his gaze fixating on where they were touching.

“I realized what it could be like.” Dan peered up at Phil through thick eyelashes. “That if just being around someone, without all of the physical stuff, was so fucking good, then —” Dan swallowed thickly, his eyes shifting away and back down again, “— then things with Isabella definitely weren’t good enough.”

“Oh,” Phil muttered, practically speechless at the implications of what Dan was saying. Or at least, what he thought Dan was implying — he wasn’t exactly speaking in the most concrete terms at the moment. Phil was pretty sure Dan was talking about him, but if Dan wasn’t… well, Phil didn’t want to make an idiot of himself because of a pretty sure assumption.

“So, did, um, someone in particular make you realize that, or…?” Phil trailed off, losing his courage to complete his already weak and ambiguous question.

To Phil’s surprise, Dan threw his head back in the loud, boisterous laughter that Phil had come to know and love, and sent Phil an incredulous look.

“Stupidity isn’t a good look on you, Phil,” Dan said, his voice dripping with fondness, a smile so wide that his dimples were canyons. There was no bite to the words, nothing but pure affection radiating from Dan.

Realizing how fucking obvious it was, how ridiculous of a question he’d really asked, Phil broke down into laughter as well. On instinct, his free hand flew up to shield his mouth — and the tongue he knew tended to poke out when he laughed too freely.

Dan’s other hand was right behind Phil’s though, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling it down, down, down, away from his mouth and all the way to the sofa. “Stop that,” Dan murmured softly, manhandling Phil ever so slightly so that both pairs of their hands were intertwined. “I like looking at your mouth.” Dan’s eyes flickered up from where he was looking at Phil’s lips, where Phil’s tongue was undoubtedly peeking out, up to his eyes. “And the rest of you.”

The smile on Phil’s face grew, and he lost all concern for how silly, how lovestruck, he must look. But he didn’t care if Dan realized how happy he was — fuck, he wanted Dan to know.

He wanted Dan to know that he made Phil the happiest he’d ever been.

“Cheesy isn’t a good look on you, Dan,” Phil quipped back, teasing.

Truthfully, cheesy was a great look on Dan — a look Phil wanted to see forever, if possible — but he wasn’t about to tell Dan that right now.

Dan rolled his eyes and softly tugged on Phil’s hands to pull him closer, the space between them growing smaller and smaller with every centimeter that Phil fell.

“Shut up,” Dan mumbled as he swooped in and finally closed the last bit of distance between them by capturing Phil’s lips with his own.

Phil melted, sinking into the sensation and letting himself get lost in the feeling of Dan’s lips on his. Phil leaned closer and pressed more firmly against Dan’s lips, their mouths moving in a slow rhythm. He was vaguely aware of the way that his stomach was flipping over, the way his heart was swooping, the way his breath was catching, but Phil was so fucking concentrated on the way that Dan’s lips felt against his that he could barely pay attention to anything else.

The only thought that Phil could register was finally.

With what was probably more fierceness than necessary, Phil ripped his hands from Dan’s, and reached up to cup his cheeks and hold him firmly in place, to pull his face impossibly closer.

A quiet groan tumbled out of Dan’s lips, almost completely muffled by Phil’s mouth.

Fuck, that was hot. The noise caused Dan’s lips to part slightly and Phil took advantage of the opportunity, slipping his tongue between Dan’s lips; Phil slowly worked Dan’s mouth open, exploring every bit of it.

Dan was fast to respond, clearly just as eager as Phil, and tangled his tongue with Phil’s, not necessarily fighting for dominance, but not quite yielding submission either. They gave and they took, taking turns caressing and exploring each other.

Warm hands pressed to Phil’s waist, almost immediately slipping just underneath his jumper. Ever since that day in the coffee shop when Phil had gotten to feel Dan’s hands on his bare skin — back when Dan had innocently helped untangle Phil from his sweater — Phil had obsessed over what it would feel like to be touched by Dan in the heat of the moment. What it would be like for Dan to run his hands over him, to kiss him, to caress him.

Right now, though, Dan’s hands weren’t exploring Phil’s body — they weren’t roaming up and down his chest or looping around his back and dipping below the hem of his jeans. But that was fine, because they were gripping Phil’s hips tightly, Dan’s fingernails digging so fiercely into Phil’s skin that they would certainly leave marks.

Marks that Phil would happily bare later. Marks that Phil would probably stare at and fantasize about when Dan wasn’t with him anymore.

Phil didn’t want to think about later, though. He wanted to focus on now. He wanted to focus on the way Dan’s lips were moving against his, and the way that Dan’s breath danced across Phil’s cheeks.

Above all, Phil wanted to focus on Dan.

Both of their breath was turning ragged, though. Kissing Dan couldn’t last forever. Phil could feel Dan gasping for air, and Phil knew he was losing the battle with his lungs.

He pulled back, but he didn’t go far.No sooner had Phil separated their lips than Dan’s forehead crashed into his, Dan’s breath coming in fast, hot pants across Phil’s cheeks.

Phil’s eyes flew open from the impact, and he was met with the serene sight of a blissed-out looking Dan. His eyes were still closed, his lips parted and twitching up at the corners. On Phil’s hips, Dan’s fingers relaxed, just slightly, his hands slipping down to rest in the crevice of Phil’s lap.

Dan’s breath slowed, finally returning to something that resembled a normal pace, and his eyes fluttered open.

“Holy shit,” Dan muttered.

“Yeah,” Phil agreed stupidly, his voice coming out breathless and weak. His hands fell from Dan’s cheeks, coming to rest on his shoulders.

“That was…” Dan trailed off, opting to close his eyes and tip his chin forward again instead of finishing his sentence. He pressed another tender kiss to Phil’s mouth and their lips melded together for a soft moment.

When Dan pulled back again, he only left a hair of distance between their lips. Phil could feel every one of Dan’s breaths, and he savored it, his eyes closed as he took in the tender moment. It took a moment before their eyes drifted open, almost at the same time, and met intensely.

“Yeah,” Phil repeatedly dumbly, his lips brushing against Dan’s when he spoke because they were still so close.

Dan’s hands slid up again, dipping back under Phil’s sweater and lightly brushing back and forth against the skin of Phil’s hips. The sudden sensation was a shock to Phil, and he squirmed, unable to help his reaction to Dan’s ticklish touch. A high pitched giggle escaped his lips without his permission, breaking the charged moment.

Dan’s hands stilled for a moment, his eyes flying open even wider in surprise at Phil’s reaction.

“Oh dear,” he giggled. His fingers tightened against Phil’s sides, and then dug in harder, beginning to tickle Phil with more intention.

Phil squeaked, squirming uncontrollably in an attempt to get away from the touch, while laughter bubbled up from his lips.

“Oh dear,” Dan repeated, a grin spreading wider and wider on his face, his dimples growing deeper. Phil could hear the childish, taunting delight that was laced in his voice, and almost, almost, forgave Dan for tickling him. “Someone’s ticklish, huh?” he teased, laughter interrupting his words and completely dissolving the sharp tension that had built between them just a moment before.

But it felt good. Despite the fact that Phil couldn’t stop laughing, and his sides were beginning to hurt from the overwhelming tickling, the moment felt good. In all of the people that Phil had dated, he’d never been with anyone that he could so easily bounce from exhilarating and hot, to silly and playful, and he absolutely adored it.

“Shut up!” Phil gasped around his laughter. “You already knew that! You figured this out when you were drunk! You don’t need to keep proving it,” Phil pleaded, reaching down to battle Dan’s hands.

Without warning, Dan’s fingers suddenly moved, right out from under Phil’s searching hands, until they were wiggling their way further into Phil, making him shriek with laughter.

“Stop, stop,” Phil cried through broken breaths. His face was flushed, and he couldn’t seem to open his eyes, he was laughing so hard. Thankfully, Dan’s movements finally came to a halt, and Phil’s body collapsed in relief.

“Oh my god,” Phil moaned, panting for breath. His hands fell to his sides as he worked to get himself back under control.

In front of him, Dan giggled, but didn’t say anything. Phil pouted, expecting an apology, but it never came — because in the next moment, Dan’s hands found Phil’s sides again, and returned to their assault. He grazed his fingers up and down, brushing Phil’s ribs and just shy of his armpits, digging his fingers in deep to get Phil going again.

“Fuck — Dan —” Phil gasped, struggling under Dan’s touch. Dan’s hands just kept going, and Phil could feel his abs beginning to hurt from the onslaught of laughter. Dan’s hands moved to Phil’s stomach, taking advantage of the moment, and Phil had finally had enough. Desperate to stop the onslaught of tickling on his sensitive stomach, Phil managed to place his hands on top of Dan’s, and force them to still against his skin.

He gulped in air as Dan laughed at him, his eyes crinkled up in amusement, and his dimple huge in his cheek.

“You’re the worst, Howell,” Phil complained, but despite being disgruntled about Dan laughing at him, Phil found himself grinning as well. He couldn’t help himself - not when Dan looked so happy being able to tease Phil.

“You’re cute, Philly,” Dan said quietly with a soft smile as Phil started to get his breath back. His eyes flitted over Phil’s face, and his fingers flexed back and forth against Phil’s body until Phil’s grip loosened and he let go.

Using his newfound leverage, Dan wrapped his hands more firmly around Phil, sliding around to his lower back and pulling him forwards, forcing them even closer on the sofa. “I like you a lot,” he murmured, the intensity from a few moments ago rushing back.

“Do you?” Phil asked with a smirk, no longer doubting Dan’s feelings for him.

“Yeah,” Dan said, his voice lower and huskier than it was seconds earlier. “I do,” he confirmed, leaning in and kissing Phil once more, lingering against his lips longer than necessary. “What are you going to do about it, Lester?” Dan teased, right up against Phil’s mouth.

Phil didn’t even have to think about it. After all of the flirting, the talking, the waiting, Phil didn’t have it in him to hold back for another second. Not if Dan was willing to go for it.

“This,” Phil whispered against Dan’s lips before closing the miniscule distance between them, and kissing Dan more passionately, more heatedly, than anything they’d shared yet.

Dan kissed back, matching passion with passion, heat with heat. It was slow at first, but it built and built, until suddenly their hands suddenly unable to stay still. Dan’s hands slid up from their spot on Phil’s lower back, tracing along his spine and pushing his jumper up as they made their way higher and higher. Cold air rushed over Phil’s skin, and Phil felt a violent shiver course down his spine — but he wasn’t sure if it was from sudden exposure to the air, or from Dan’s touch.

If Phil had to guess, though, he would reckon it was because of Dan.

Desperate to get more of Dan, too, Phil reached behind Dan’s head, cupping the back of his neck in one hand, pulling him impossibly closer, and tangling his other into Dan’s curly locks.

After all of the marathon nights of Buffy where Dan had encouraged Phil to play with his hair, Phil should have been prepared for Dan’s reaction, been prepared for the high pitched whimper Dan let out when Phil knotted his fingers in Dan’s curls.

But he wasn’t. Nothing could have prepared Phil for the satisfaction he felt from pulling those noises from Dan, from turning Dan on, from the way Dan quietly gasped Phil’s name. It all went straight to Phil’s groin.

The little amount of control that Phil had had over his impulses disappeared, and suddenly he felt himself pushing and pulling at Dan all at once. With a fervor that Phil hadn’t felt in years — had arguably never felt — he pulled at Dan’s shoulders, yanking him closer until their entire upper bodies were flush and Phil could feel Dan’s heart pounding in his chest. Almost simultaneously, though, Phil pushed, tipping Dan backwards, guiding him down, down, down, until his back crashed into the sofa and he gave a soft oomph.

Dan went without protest; his only response was to tighten his grip on Phil’s hips and pull him down, too — it wasn’t necessary, though, because Phil had every intention of chasing Dan into the cushions anyway.

Together, they tumbled into the sofa, Phil falling on top of Dan, his arms caging Dan’s head as Phil braced himself on his forearms. His hands returned to Dan’s hair, tugging just a bit. With what seemed like no thought at all, Dan’s legs spread apart, giving Phil room to settle between them. Suddenly, their hips were pressing together.

“Fuck,” Dan gasped. He tore his lips from Phil’s, and tipped his head far back, giving Phil a perfect, up close view of his long, beautiful neck.

Phil wanted to trace every bit of it with his tongue, to explore every piece of Dan’s body.

Unable to help himself, his body on tingling with desire, Phil leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dan’s exposed throat, kissing lightly from the base of his chin all the way to the jut of his collarbone. It wasn’t until Dan let out a long, mangled moan that Phil latched on properly, seeking out a pulse point on Dan’s neck and sucking.

Dan might have moaned before, but the noise he let out when Phil drew the skin of his throat into his mouth was downright pornographic. Beneath him, Phil felt Dan’s hips cant up, pressing into Phil’s forcefully. This time, they both moaned as their rapidly hardening cocks rubbed together through their clothes.

It felt good — more than good. The warmth of Dan’s body, the firmness of his cock, the vibrations of his moaning, they all felt positively delicious beneath Phil. And for a moment, Phil lost himself in the intoxicating pleasure of Dan.

The tight pressure on Phil’s hips dissipated as Dan loosened his grip and his hands slipped backwards, wrapping around Phil and drifting lower and lower until the tips of his fingers were dipping to Phil’s waistband, grazing the top of his arse, pulling his hips down more forcefully.

“Shit, fuck,” Phil gasped as their cocks collided again, the friction of their jeans and the grinding movement causing a burst of arousal to shoot through his entire body.

It felt great — sinfully great. Something that Phil wasn’t sure he could truly have yet, though. He needed to stop this before it got out of hand. He needed to give them both a chance to hold back, at least for a little bit longer. They deserved that — they deserved more than fast and sloppy on Dan’s sofa.

Phil tore his lips away from their place on Dan’s neck, and forced himself to pull his hips away from Dan’s.

The new position didn’t seem to suit Dan, though. His hips followed Phil’s up, seemingly chasing the heady feeling of grinding together.

“Wait, Dan,” Phil panted. “Fuck.” His hands flew from Dan’s shoulders to his hips, forcefully pressing them down into the sofa, restraining Dan’s movements and giving him no choice but to stay still.

Phil’s insistence must have registered with Dan, because he stopped fighting and his eyes shot open to look at Phil. “What?” Dan asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Phil rushed to assure him, his breath still coming out in sharp exhales. “I just — fuck,” Phil’s resolve waivered, and he let his head collapse forward onto Dan. He pressed a long, lingering kiss to Dan’s chest, right above his pounding heart. God, Phil really didn’t want to stop — not even for a second. But what he had with Dan was too precious, too new to risk. “I don’t want to go too fast.”

“Oh,” Dan murmured. He sounded shocked, almost disbelieving — something that made Phil’s heart hurt for Dan in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Phil pressed himself further upwards so that he could properly look at Dan. When Phil leaned back, he saw that Dan’s eyes were blown wide in lust, and his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

Phil’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips. Dan was right there, so unbelievably close, and not kissing him was taking an immense amount of restraint. But Phil was determined to do it.

“You’re too important.” Phil whispered, his voice raw with emotion that he hadn’t had the chance to express to Dan yet.

Dan’s eyes widened.

“You think so?” he asked, sounding vulnerable and timid.

Not missing a beat, Phil dipped down and kissed Dan again, moving their lips languidly together. He kissed him thoroughly, trying to convey just how important Dan was to him through their kiss alone. He moved slowly, gently prying Dan’s mouth open and caressing Dan’s tongue with his own. Phil kissed him until they were both running out of breath again — something that didn’t take long since they were both already so close to being short of breath.

“I know so,” Phil promised when he pulled back.

Dan’s hands shot from their place in Phil’s waistband to cover his face, but Phil caught sight of Dan’s red cheeks and bashful smile before his face disappeared.

“Phiwww,” Dan whined, his voice coming out muffled through his hands. The tips of his ears were tinting red, too, and Phil wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity flattering Dan enough that he got this adorably flustered.

It was tempting to lean back down his elbows, to pry Dan’s hands away from his face, to surge forward and continue kissing Dan. But Phil was determined to start this relationship right, and that meant finishing the conversation they’d started earlier — and clarifying exactly what Dan wanted now that they had finally given into each other.

So instead, Phil pushed himself onto his hands, then his knees, and then dragged himself all the way into a sitting position. He glanced down and saw that his cock was still straining against his jeans — that would just have to calm down, because now wasn’t the moment.

“Come on, sit up,” Phil urged gently. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Dan’s wrists, pulling them back softly.

Dan gazed up at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks, a frown forming on his lips, his bottom one sticking out in a way that made Phil desperate to lean down and suck it into his mouth. It took every bit of Phil’s willpower to not give in.

“I don’t wanna,” Dan whined petulantly, pointedly staying horizontal.

If that boy wasn’t so fucking cute, Phil would probably murder him.

“Too bad,” Phil teased, using the leverage he had on Dan’s wrists to pull him into a seated position. They were close, closer than they had been when they initially sat down on the sofa — closer than when they’d first kissed, even.

Phil could feel Dan’s breath on his cheeks, and his eyes flickered down to Dan’s lips again. They were swollen from kissing, redder than they normally were. And fuck, he just looked downright kissable.

Forcing himself to behave, Phil pushed backwards and put just a few more centimeters of space between them.

“What do you want from me?” Dan pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Finish talking,” Phil murmured, giving into some of his desire to touch Dan by letting himself reach up and run his fingers through Dan’s hair. Dan’s eyes fluttered closed, and his pout twisted into a soft smile, his arms falling back to his sides

“Please,” Phil urged, when it seemed Dan wasn’t going to do as he’d requested.

Dan’s eyes opened, but he sighed, his face scrunching up in confusion. “About what?”

“The fight, Isabella.” Phil shrugged helplessly, not knowing exactly what to demand from Dan. “All of it.”

“I don’t know how much more there is to say.” Dan shrugged, his hand seeking out Phil’s and intertwining their fingers. “You’re amazing, Isabella sucks. The end.”

Phil frowned slightly at the way Dan had seemingly closed off since their earlier conversation. He didn’t like it. He knew it might not be fair, but he wanted a full explanation from Dan. He wanted Dan to tell him everything.

“What?” Dan asked, a note of defensiveness creeping into his voice when all Phil did was stare.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Phil implored, even though he very much wanted Dan to talk. “But you said it was important earlier and, well, I agree. I want to know what happened — all of it.”

“Why?” Dan asked, and it was clear that he really didn’t understand Phil’s motivation in getting Dan to talk. Phil sighed, and squeezed Dan’s hand.

“I want to be different,” he whispered, looking down at their hands, feeling vulnerable.

“You already are, Phil.” Dan squeezed tightly in return. Slowly, Phil looked up, taking in the sincerity on Dan’s face, and swallowed.

“Good.” Phil leaned forward and pressed a slow, tender kiss to Dan’s lips, trying to show Dan what he was feeling. Slowly, he pulled away, and sat all the way back up, after just a few seconds. Talking was important, and Phil didn’t want Dan — or himself — to get too caught up in kissing again. He still wanted more of an explanation.

Phil cleared his throat and tried to shift them back to their conversation. “You were planning to break up with Isabella before she cheated on you.” It wasn’t a question — Phil knew that much for certain.

“Right,” Dan confirmed. “I was going to do it the next morning.”

“Was it just because she was using you?” It wasn’t until the words were out of Phil’s mouth that he realized how minimizing it must have sounded. “Not that that wasn’t a good enough reason to break up with her!” Phil rushed to add. “I just — was that it?”

Staring downward, Dan silently shook his head.

Phil bit is lip. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to tell me?”

“The full truth feels too heavy,” Dan confessed, still addressing their laps.

Needing to see Dan’s face, his eyes, Phil cupped his chin and forced Dan to look up, but he refused to meet Phil’s gaze. “What do you mean?”

Dan sighed, but he relented, giving into Phil’s insistent pushing. “It felt easier to simplify everything down to the fact that Isabella cheated on me.” Dan gave a small shrug of his shoulders, biting his lip between his teeth.

“As opposed to what?” Phil pushed.

“It was easier than saying that she was a manipulative bitch who only dated me for money and fame.” Dan’s gaze flicked away, settling on the potted cacti on the table. “And that, in the end, there was some truth to all of her accusations.”

“What do you mean?” Phil’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Isabella had accused Dan of a lot — not really liking girls, cheating, breaking up with her because of Phil… But Phil couldn’t tell if any of it was true.

“All that biphobic bullshit she was spouting — she’s been going on about that bullshit since I came out her.”

“Wow,” Phil breathed, unintentionally interrupting Dan. “That must have been really difficult, being with someone who didn’t respect your sexuality,” Phil elaborated when Dan’s stared at him blankly, eyebrows raised.

“It’s whatever, and like, not true. I mean, obviously I wasn’t doomed to leave her for a man just because I like dick, too.” Dan forced an awkward laugh. “But she wasn’t entirely wrong about you.”

“About me?” Phil asked, taken aback. He hadn’t expected this to really come back to him.

“Yeah,” Dan said sheepishly. “About you being, like, part of the reason I broke up with her. And would never consider getting back together.”

“But we never…” Phil cocked his head and shrugged his shoulder, hoping Dan would get what Phil meant — that they never did anything.

“I know. But that doesn’t change the fact that the feelings were there. So like I said, in a way, she was right. I wasn’t any better to her than she was to me,” Dan said dejectedly.

The idea that Isabella had somehow convinced Dan that he was in the wrong churned in Phil’s stomach, making him feel uneasy.

“Are you kidding me? No. Absolutely not,” Phil fought back fiercely.

Dan looked up in shock at Phil’s raised voice.

“You’re so much better than her,” Phil insisted. “Sure, there were some feelings. That’s kinda shitty. But you didn’t act on them — fuck, you didn’t act on them for an entire month after you’d broken up! If that doesn’t make you a better person, Dan, I don’t know what does.” Phil’s voice was just shy of shouting by the time he was finished.

“I wanted to act on them, though,” Dan argued, defeated.

“Trust me, I did too.” Phil shook his head despondently. “But we didn’t. And that’s what counts.”

“I guess.” Dan grabbed his drink from the table, draining the remaining half of it. He looked exasperated and annoyed, a flicker of the heat from his fight with Isabella back in his eyes. “Jesus, I’m just so fucking — ugh.”

“What?” Phil couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at Dan’s sudden change in demeanor. Following Dan’s lead, Phil picked up his drink and finished it.

“She just sucked so fucking much,” Dan ranted.

Reaching up, Phil carded his fingers through Dan’s hair again, and sighed softly. “Complain as much as you want, I’ll listen,” Phil offered sincerely, although a bit of humor still seeped into his voice.

“She was just so fucking self-obsessed,” Dan groaned, the feeling of Phil’s hand in his hair not even enough to calm him down, and Phil let it fall away.

Before saying anything more, Dan refilled both of their drinks, and handed one to Phil. “All she ever did was talk about herself and push for doing things that would help her public image,” Dan groused. “She’s literally the most selfish person in the world. And you know the dumbest part?” Dan chuckled humorously. “She always tried to pretend it was to help my public image too, but she never seemed to care that I didn’t care about that. That wasn’t me.”

“Mmm,” Phil hummed, trying to hold back his own anger at the woman. Dan didn’t need Phil chiming in about her being a bitch. But… well, Phil could at least say something. “Sounds like she was too busy loving herself to really love you.”

Dan froze, his glass halfway to his mouth. Phil watched as he stared, wide eyed, and could do nothing more than stare blankly back.

“What did you say?” Dan demanded.

“Er,” Phil stuttered, trying to remember exactly what he'd said because it seemed to important to Dan, for some unfathomable reason. “Something about her loving herself too much?”

“Fucking brilliant,” Dan muttered, more to himself than Phil. “Love yourself.”

Without saying anything else, Dan lunged forward and sweeped a small notebook from the shelf under the coffee table. It was a notebook that Phil recognized; he’d seen Dan scribble in it countless times — but never in direct response to something Phil had said.

Dan usually was pretty private with his notebook of lyrics, normally shielding the page from Phil’s view when he added to it. Tonight, though, the notebook was on full display; it was opened to the very first page, which only had two words on it.

album title????????????????

Beneath the series of question marks, Dan messily scratched two more words.

love yourself.

As if Phil wasn’t closely watching Dan’s movements, Dan flipped the notebook around so Phil could see it properly. Phil took in the words on the page for a second, before shifting his gaze up to Dan’s face. He was biting his lip so hard that it was turning white, and his brows were furrowed.

“Can I use that?” Dan sounded nervous.

Phil’s jaw actually dropped. “As an album title?”

“Yeah,” Dan answered meekly. “And maybe a song lyric, too.”

“O-of c-course,” Phil stuttered. He was having trouble processing the fact that Dan was inspired by anything Phil said, much less that Dan wanted to use it so prominently. “Why that, though?”

Dan’s gaze flickered down to the notebook. “Do you really want to hear me go on a full music rant right now?” Dan asked warily, looking back at Phil skeptically.

“Always,” Phil promised, smiling sweetly at Dan. He meant it — anytime that Dan shared his thoughts, his music, with Phil, Phil felt himself fall a little further.

Dan thumbed through the notebook, not stopping at any particular spot but skimming the pages. “It just seems appropriate. Like, on the one hand, I already can see writing a song with that as the chorus, and screaming that Isabella should go love herself is so much better than the two words I’ve been using recently. But also, I feel like it just… I dunno, captures the meaning of the album?”

Dan held up a finger, wordlessly telling Phil to wait, and took another drink from his glass before continuing. “This whole album, at its core, is really about being a little selfish, and doing what’s right for me, and love yourself really sums that up.”

For almost a full minute, Phil was struck silent. There was a certain kind of wisdom in what Dan had said that Phil hadn’t really thought about before. It seemed so obvious, and yet, was something that most of the world — Phil included — so often overlooked. The fact that Dan had grabbed that sentiment, and made an entire album around it? That was really something.

“I think you’re amazing, Dan,” he managed to mutter eventually. “And I think you should be as selfish as you want.”

“That’s good to hear.” Dan said, his smile twisting into a smirk, eyes twinkling. Phil’s brows furrowed, unsure what that expression could mean.

“Why’s that?” Phil asked, his head cocking to the side.

“Because if I’m really being selfish,” Dan said cheekily, “I just want you.”

All of Phil’s resolve to continue talking about Isabella, about everything that had gone wrong, about how Dan was feeling, drained away in an instant.

Words completely failed Phil.

He didn’t know how to properly communicate just how much everything Dan had said meant to him — the fact that Dan had sort of left Isabella for him, the fact that Dan was writing an album for him, the fact that Dan being selfish meant being with Phil.

So instead, Phil surged forward, insistently pressing his lips to Dan’s. He couldn’t help himself, kissing Dan deeply, his hands coming up to fist in Dan’s shirt.

“I just want you, too,” Phil murmured against his lips, barely pulling away to speak.

“We’re a good pair, then,” Dan mumbled back, slamming their mouths back together and effectively putting an end to any more talking.

There was nothing more that they needed to say with words, anyway. After so long of being so close, they just needed each other. They needed to feel and kiss and touch.

They’d talked for months. And they would have months and months to talk later.

But now, tonight wasn’t about talking. Not anymore. Tonight was about giving in, about finally letting themselves be everything that they’d wanted for so long.

Completely disregarding his earlier decision to not push too far, too fast, Phil let his hands fly from Dan’s shirt to his shoulders, because if Dan was going to be selfish, then Phil thought he might as well be too. The distance between them suddenly seemed unbearable, and Phil pushed Dan back, back, back, until he was laying down on the sofa again, his head landing with a soft thump near the armrest.

Dan didn’t miss a beat.

Mid-tumble, Dan’s hands found Phil’s waist again, wasting no time in slipping under his sweater and thumbing across the soft cushion of his sides.

“Fuck,” Dan muttered when their lips parted ever-so-slightly from the impact of their fall. His head tipped back, once again exposing his long neck, and Phil realized that this must be another hotspot for Dan.

Phil’s suspicions were confirmed when he shifted down, licking his way down Dan’s throat and fixating on the soft, fleshy spot where his neck met his shoulder. Phil sucked harshly, his teeth grazing Dan’s skin, and was rewarded with a deep, loud moan.

He wanted to find every single spot that elicited noises like that from Dan.

“Someone’s sensitive there, hmm?” Phil teased, echoing Dan’s words from when he’d tickled Phil earlier.

“Fuck—” Dan gasped in a shattered breath, “—off.”

The deep moan that accompanied Dan’s exhale made Phil think that Dan wanted anything but Phil to retreat.

Wanting more of Dan’s moans, Phil bit down, just hard enough to shock Dan’s senses, before licking and sucking at the sensitive skin again.

“Jesus on a fucking tricycle,” Dan muttered, his breath coming out in broken whimpers. “How do you fucking know already?”

Phil giggled into Dan’s neck, so unbelievably happy that he’d found someone that he could relax with, have fun with, even when they were in the middle of something so hot.

“Come back here,” Dan demanded, his words slurred and voice hushed. One of his hands slipped out from Phil’s sweater and landed in his hair, tugging roughly to redirect Phil’s lips to his own. “Kiss me, you spoon,” Dan muttered before he pulled Phil’s head down and crashed their lips together.

And so Phil kissed him. He opened himself up to Dan, brushed his tongue alongside his, and soaked in what he’d been missing for so long. Finally getting to kiss Dan was like heaven, and Phil couldn’t get enough.

Dan’s lips were plump and warm and just barely chapped; they moved in perfect synchrony with Phil’s, his tongue darting out and dancing at just the right moments.

Sometime while they were sinking into each other, kissing and just being, Dan’s hands made their way up to Phil’s back, pushing his sweater up along the way.

“Can I?” Dan asked breathily as he tugged the hem of Phil’s sweater further upwards.

It took a moment for Dan’s words to register, but when they did, Phil pulled his mouth away from Dan’s to breathe, “Wait, hang on.”

It took more effort than Phil wanted to admit, but he managed to at least get his mouth off of Dan’s, though he didn’t get very far. His lips found Dan’s throat as he said, “I want to take this at your pace.”

“Take — what — at my — pace?” Dan asked, his words coming out in short staccatos, matching the beat of Phil’s mouth against his skin.

“You,” Phil kissed Dan’s throat, unable to help himself. “Me,” kiss. “Us,” kiss.

For a moment, there was no response. And then Dan pushed his head into the sofa, forcing Phil’s mouth away from his skin, and stared up at Phil. Their gazes finally met again for the first time in what felt like ages.

“Phil, I’m in,” Dan said, his lips quirking up into a small smile. “I’m all in.”

Phil’s eyes went wide. For all of a second, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, wasn’t sure if Dan meant what he meant, but as he stared at Dan, stared at the way Dan’s body seemed to be giving in to him, Phil realized that he did.

“Fuck,” Phil cursed. “Me too, Dan,” he gasped, crashing their lips back together. He pushed into Dan’s mouth, kissing him fervently, suddenly desperate for more more more. But before Phil could really get into the kiss, Dan pushed him away again.

“Sweater,” he huffed as he tugged at the hem. “I want it gone. Please.”

Not missing a beat, Phil pushed off his elbows and extended his arms, balancing on his hands so that Dan had the freedom to push the sweater up and over his torso. The thick knitted material temporarily blinded Phil as it covered his head, but then Dan pulled some more, and Phil could see again. Phil lifted up one hand after another, letting the sweater fall from his arms, and watched as Dan shoved it off the sofa.

Beneath him, Dan was staring up, pupils dilated and lips swollen. “Come here,” Dan ordered, his fingers tangling in the fine hairs at the back of Phil’s neck and yanking him down. Phil’s eyes clamped shut, his lips slamming into Dan’s. He let himself kiss, just for a moment, before he remembered that he had a bigger priority at the moment.

“No,” Phil grumbled against Dan’s lips. With the little leverage he had, Phil tried to push himself back up.

When Phil opened his eyes and looked down, he saw Dan staring up with startled, wide doe eyes. A small smirk on his face, Phil shook his head and shifted his weight some so that his hands could slip down to Dan’s hips.

“Fair is fair,” Phil huffed, tugging on Dan’s jumper and trying to pull it up and away from his body.

Dan relented; his hands fell from Phil’s neck and pressed into the sofa beside his hips. His back arched up, letting Phil slide the soft knit jumper up his body. Seamlessly, Dan let his back fall and raised his shoulders when the jumper was high enough, letting Phil pull it free from his body entirely.

Spread beneath him, Dan looked radiant. His chest was soft and smooth, and just slightly tanned. Phil’s eyes were drawn down to Dan’s nipples, prominent nubs against the flat expanse of his chest. Every fiber of Phil wanted to touch, wanted to stroke up and down Dan’s chest, wanted to thumb over his nipples and feel the jut of his collarbone.

So Phil let himself.

He pushed himself upwards, balancing his weight on his knees and simultaneously forcing their hips together harder. His hands slunk up, landing on Dan’s chest and catching himself. Staring down in wonderment, Phil let his hands roam up and down, caressing every part of Dan’s bare skin that he could.

“You’re gorgeous,” Phil breathed.

Dan flushed bright red, only this time, Phil could see the way the blush spread all the way down his chest and reached the bottom of his ribcage.

“You’re prettier,” Dan argued, his hands rising up to Phil’s stomach, searching over Phil’s skin like he was trying to memorize the landscape of Phil’s torso. Dan’s touch was white hot, sending electric thrills up and down Phil’s spine that had him desperate to grind his hips down into Dan.

They’d come this far, they’d been so patient for so long, that Phil couldn’t resist just some inkling of the pleasure that he craved. He let his hips fall, let their crotches rub together, let their clothed cocks touch.

“Agree to disagree,” Phil panted in Dan’s ear.

A deep groan tumbled from Dan’s lips and Phil suddenly flashed back to that day in Beans and Grind when he’d called Dan a good boy, and the way that Dan had reacted.

Praise.

Dan clearly liked praise.

And Phil was more than happy to give it to him.

“You’re amazing, Dan,” Phil murmured, latching onto the tender skin beneath Dan’s ear and sucking, drawing the pliant skin into his mouth and nibbling at the soft flesh. “I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you.”

“Shit,” Dan gasped, hips arching into Phil’s at the praise.

Phil pulled back from his neck and took in the serene, euphoric look on Dan’s face. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back, spine arched enough to force his shoulders off the sofa. His soft, pink lips were parted, quivering, his tongue pushing against his front teeth.

Fuck going slowly. Fuck propriety. Fuck chivalry.

Phil wanted to worship every single centimeter of Dan that he could see.

With renewed determination, Phil slid himself down, letting his mouth finally fall beneath Dan’s collarbones, and dip below where his shirt normally hid.

“God,” Phil muttered as he kissed down Dan’s chest. “You look so fucking good beneath me.”

“Mmm,” Dan moaned incoherently. His hands stilled, his fingernails digging into the soft skin of Phil’s side.

Phil’s lips trailed farther down, landing on the erect nub of Dan’s nipple and biting lightly, just to see Dan’s reaction.

It was a good reaction — better than Phil ever could have ever imagined. Dan’s hips thrusted up, uncontrollably smashing into Phil’s, and a loud keen was ripped from his throat.

Dan was a loud person. His laugh was loud, his voice was loud, his personality was loud.

Phil should have known that his sex would be loud, too.

Suckling at one nipple wasn’t enough though — not for Phil and, based on Dan’s whimpers and tugging hands, not for Dan either. Eager to give Dan all that he could, Phil kissed his way over to Dan’s other nipple, giving it the same tender, biting attention.

Dan writhed under Phil, his hips wriggling against Phil’s crotch and causing their cocks to grind together.

Despite Phil’s best efforts to maintain his composure, the sudden assault of Dan’s hips on Phil’s had him collapsing against Dan, letting his hips crash down and his forehead fall to Dan’s chest.

A sharp tugging at the nape of Phil’s neck pulled his head upwards, making him look up at Dan’s face.

“The sofa—” Dan panted, “I can’t.” He raised up, kissing Phil heatedly, moving their lips together so hurriedly Phil thought they might be in a race. “Bed—” Dan gasped. “Now, please.”

Fuck.

There was no way Phil could refuse a request like that from Dan. Not when Dan looked this docile, this soft, this turned on.

Wordlessly, Phil pushed off of Dan and held his hand out, silently beckoning Dan off the sofa. Dan didn’t hesitate; his hand grasped onto Phil’s and he used the weight of Phil to pull himself to standing.

“Let’s go,” Dan muttered. He didn’t let go of Phil’s hand, instead opting to pull Phil behind him, dragging him down the hallway and through a darkened doorway.

Desperate to get to see Dan — whatever this night would let him see, anyway — Phil fumbled on the wall, searching for a light switch.

“Don’t,” Dan ordered. In the dark of the room, Phil could only feel the warm grasp of Dan’s hand linking around his wrist, pulling it from the wall and back to Dan’s waist. “Just come here.”

Dan’s hands were on top of Phil’s, holding them firmly to his waist, as he stepped backwards and guided them towards the bed.

At the last minute, Dan spun them around and forced Phil to fall backwards onto the bed. For a split second, Phil was disappointed that the weight of Dan didn’t immediately crash on top of him — until the soft light of a bedside lamp filled the room, that was. It casted a more subtle, intimate light than the overhead light that Phil had looked for, and he was grateful for it.

Standing between his legs and looking down at him, Dan looked so soft, so fragile, in the warm light of the lamp, and Phil wanted nothing more than to ravish him.

“Come here, beautiful,” Phil begged, his hands reaching out for the hem of Dan’s jeans. They found purchase, and he tugged Dan down. The sudden movement caused Dan to tumble forward and fall into Phil, their bare chests lining up, their hips crashing together.

“You’ve been so good for so long,” Phil whispered huskily, speaking right next to Dan’s ear. “What do you want, baby?”

Dan’s forehead fell forward, his mouth desperately nipping at Phil’s neck. “Anything,” he mumbled. “Whatever you’ll give me.” His voice was high pitched and desperate.

Phil’s cock twitched, heat pooling in his stomach.

“Let me up,” Phil urged. He pushed gently on Dan’s chest and forced him upwards until he was perched on top of Phil, straddling his hips.

Phil’s hands drifted down, coming to rest on Dan’s waist, and tipped him over. Dan went willingly, falling into the bed and wrapping his legs around Phil in the process, effectively forcing Phil to follow him down.

“Phil,” Dan moaned. Warm hands looped around Phil’s shoulders and pulled him closer — though Phil wasn’t sure how they could possibly be touching more than they already were. Dan’s head fell back again, and Phil dove in without further invitation.

Kissing down the side of Dan’s neck, Phil could feel Dan’s hurried pulse, could feel his fast breath, and it was all positively intoxicating. Phil was certain that there was nothing better than this, than having Dan squirming beneath him.

Or that was what Phil thought until Dan’s hand’s slipped from Phil’s back, at least.

Suddenly, Dan’s hands were tracing hot trails down Phil’s back. Trails that didn’t stop, trails that were unimpeded by the barrier of Phil’s jeans.

No, Dan’s hands kept going and going and going. They brushed over Phil’s lower back and dipped straight below the hem of his trousers, completely forgoing his pants and reaching straight for his bare arse.

Phil already didn’t have any resolve left, but the feeling of Dan’s hands on his naked butt absolutely drove him wild.

Abruptly, Phil pushed himself off of Dan, kneeling upright between his legs so that he had access to Dan’s entire body. Phil’s hands flew to Dan’s zipper, working the button between his fingers without pushing it through the hole.

“Can I?” Phil asked. Even to his own ears, his voice was deep and scratchy — he could only imagine what it sounded like to Dan.

Clearly, though, Dan wasn’t turned off by Phil’s voice. “Please,” he begged. His hand reached out, too, and landed on Phil’s trousers. His fingers slipped beneath the hem and toyed at the button. “But only if I can, too,” Dan teased with a smile, a weak attempt at banter during the heat of the moment.

“Whatever you want,” Phil promised shamelessly, slipping Dan’s button through the hole, and almost simultaneously feeling the relief of his own jeans loosening.

Before Phil could do anything else, Dan pushed him away by the hips, forcing him to stand up at the edge of the bed. Dan’s hips canted up as he slipped his hands beneath his own trousers and pulled them down, taking his pants with them. When they were far enough down Dan’s legs, Phil reached for them, tugged the tight fabric over Dan’s slender legs and away from his body entirely. With absolutely no regard for what were probably expensive jeans, Phil dropped Dan’s clothes to the bedroom floor and sought out Dan again.

“Off,” Dan commanded, his hands reaching for Phil’s trousers and sharply pulling down. Phil happily obliged, tugging his jeans and pants over his arse and down his thighs, all the way down to his ankles. Two kicks of his feet, and then Phil was entirely free of his clothing.

He stared down at Dan, finally realizing that this was it. That they were both completely naked together, that they were finally about to be able to explore each other in a way they’d never been able to before.

“Phiw,” Dan pleaded. His arms extended and he made grabby hands at Phil, urging him closer. “I need you.”

Phil was powerless to resist Dan’s pleas, equally desperate to have their bare bodies finally laying against each other. Phil fell forward and landed on top of Dan softly, his elbows just barely catching him before he knocked the wind out of Dan.

Dan’s hands immediately sought purchase on Phil’s hips, quickly roaming to Phil’s more private parts. One hand slid backwards, wrapping around to cup Phil’s arse, while the other slid forward, just barely grazing Phil’s inner thigh.

Phil’s cock throbbed with desire. If Dan’s hand was just a centimeter or two over, he’d be grasping onto Phil — something Phil wanted more than anything in this moment.

Well, almost anything.

Above all else, Phil wanted to touch Dan. He wanted to give Dan what he hadn’t gotten in months, what Isabella, hopefully, couldn’t ever really give him.

“Touch me,” Dan begged as his own hand reached down a little more, and settled firmly on Phil’s cock.

For a brief moment, Phil couldn’t breathe, much less concentrate on doing anything for Dan in return. Slowly and steadily, Dan’s hand dragged up Phi’s cock, squeezing lightly at the head before trailing back down. His grip was tight and rough, in the best possible way, and Phil had to fight to maintain his composure.

“Phil,” Dan desperately urged.

Phil’s eyes snapped back to Dan’s, took in the way his pupils had blown wide, the way he was biting his lip, pleading with Phil, and that was all it took to pull Phil back from his delirious bliss. Pushing up on one elbow, Phil reached down between them and took the base of Dan’s cock in his hand. His hand slid up, pulling the foreskin back and thumbing over Dan’s slit. A bead of precum leaked out, and Phil smeared it down, using it to smooth out his movements. Dan was long and heavy in Phil’s hand — better than Phil could have imagined.

In response to Phil’s touch, Dan’s hand began to pick up speed, gliding up and down Phil’s cock faster and faster as Dan seemed to become overwhelmed with pleasure. Phil could feel tension building in him, could feel the way his stomach was tightening and his balls were drawing up, but he wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t ready. Not yet.

He was far too worked up from months of pining, of waiting, to be able to hold out the way he wanted to, so Dan needed to stop.

“Slow down,” Phil said, his breath coming out in sharp heaves. “I don’t — not yet,” he begged. “I have a better idea.”

Phil let go of Dan, and knocked Dan’s hand out of the way. Determined to hold out, to not give into pleasure quite yet, Phil grabbed Dan’s wrists and pulled them up and over his head, pinning them to the bed.

“Can you be good and keep your hands up here for me?” Phil asked, but it came out like more of a demand.

Apparently, Dan liked that, though. His eyes widened, his pupils growing even larger, his hands shaking in Phil’s firm grip.

“Yes,” Dan gasped, his hips thrusting up against Phil’s.

“Good boy,” Phil praised. He released Dan’s wrists and brushed his hands down down down Dan’s body, finally coming to rest at his hips. “You look amazing,” Phil murmured, taking in the sight of Dan’s long, leaking cock.

Now that Phil had touched, now that Phil had been touched, he couldn’t resist either feeling. So rather than picking — his cock or Dan’s — Phil seized both of their cocks in his hand. It was a good thing his fingers were long, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to wrap around both of them. As it was, his fingers didn’t meet his palm.

It was good enough, though. Tonight, Phil didn’t want to fuck Dan — well, he did, but this wasn’t the right moment. Tonight was about exploring, about finally being able to feel each other and indulge in the feeling of each other.

And the feeling of their cocks pressed together, the pressure from Phil’s hands squeezing them tighter, pulling up and down their shafts — it was sheer heaven.

Hands still above his head, Dan thrusted up into Phil’s grip. His movements were just slightly out of time with Phil’s strokes, creating even more friction on both of their cocks. Phil met Dan thrust for thrust, stroking them both as best as he could, even though they were both rapidly coming undone.

In just a few more strokes before Phil could feel himself reeling toward the edge again. Every graze of his hand against his cock, every twitch of Dan’s cock against his, pushed Phil closer and closer toward the precipice.

“Shit,” Phil gasped. His hand instinctively squeezed at his base, tightening around Dan too. “I’m — fucking — close.”

Hands still above his head, Dan’s hips thrusted up, jarring Phil’s hands back into movement, and he resumed a slower pace up and down their cocks.

“Me too,” Dan moaned. “Please, just — more.”

Dan’s head flew back, and Phil couldn’t help dropping down and sucking — sucking harder than he probably should. Maybe tomorrow he’d care, but right now he certainly didn’t.

“Phiiw,” Dan cried out, his hips stuttering. Phil groaned at the way his name sounded on Dan’s lips, nothing more than a deep moan, and felt his hips start to thrust harder into his fist. Phil couldn’t seem to help himself, but it didn’t matter, because Dan seemed to be enjoying it too. He arched his neck further into Phil’s mouth, and choked out, “Close.”

Dan seemed to lose control of his hands; they slipped down and grabbed Phil’s shoulders. His nails dug in, and the sharp pain only added to the white hot pleasure Phil felt.

With the hand he was bracing himself on, Phil shifted, tangling it in Dan’s hair and tugging sharply, stroking upwards on their cocks at the same time.

“Fuck,” Dan moaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” His breath hitched, his face scrunched up, his body tensed under Phil’s. Phil could see it before it happened, he could see Dan letting go, and then he did. Phil could feel streaks of warm cum shooting over his hand, and splattering against both of their chests.

The moans and whimpers that tumbled from Dan’s mouth were intoxicating, and so loud that Phil would have been worried about the neighbors if Dan didn’t have the floor to himself. The look of euphoria on Dan’s face, and the throbbing of his cock against Phil’s, was all Phil needed to topple over the edge himself.

The orgasm that had been pulling at his stomach since Dan had first kissed him — fuck, since Dan had first smiled at him months ago — surged through him, wracking his body in quick, hot spurts.

Phil’s breath mingled with Dan’s, and he lunged forward, locking their lips together. They were both too far gone to properly kiss, but just the feel of Dan’s lips underneath his own intensified the feeling of his orgasm.

“So good,” Phil whimpered. “So fucking good.” He could feel his cock pulsing in his hand, shooting what felt like endless streaks of cum against Dan’s chest, and it was so good. Phil’s entire body shook with the feeling.

Dan’s fingers dug deeper into Phil’s shoulders, just for a second, before he relaxed entirely, going completely boneless under Phil. Phil watched through half lidded eyes as Dan collapsed. As a final streak of cum dribbled out of Phil’s cock, he fell forward, unable to hold himself up any longer.

They laid together, trying to catch their breath. Phil didn’t even have the energy to roll off of Dan, so he just sunk down, hoping that he wasn’t crushing Dan. Their chests moved up and down in synchrony, far faster than they normally would. Phil wiggled his hand from between them, carelessly wiping their mixed cum on the bedspread, before tangling his still-sticky fingers in the sweat-soaked, curly locks of Dan’s hair.

“Jesus fucking christ, Phil,” Dan murmured, his eyes still closed and body still completely lax. “How are you that good already?”

Chuckling quietly, Phil tucked his head into Dan’s neck, pressing a kiss into the hollow of his collarbone. “I guess that beat good enough, then.”

A/N: COME SCREAM AT ME.

#mine #slow burn #singer!dan #barista!phil #phan au #coffee shop au #iminclinedtowriting #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #love yourself #ly

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247krp · 5 years

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— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Ashley Choi, spotted prancing about in the Southwest Side. I remember seeing her with The Empire back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say ambitious and cynical? Apparently now she spends time as the CEO of Bermuda Entertainment, and keeps skeletons buried at Prague Tower, 002. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Viper; we missed you so.

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

Trust? There really was no trust in Cheongnam, even less within The Empire. But, oh did they sell it. A tight knighted group of riches to richer would be the #squadgoals of the current time. Ashley would always see herself as the one who carried the group. She had the need for control, so it wasn’t difficult to lead her friends. She was always planning what would be next in their schedule of parties and little get together between them. She had a bright personality, always ready with ideas that were almost impossible to change because of her stubbornness. She was a more than emotional and wild, or as wild as a perfect image will let her and wasn’t afraid to show it. Her grim side would appear sometimes whenever things weren’t complimenting her in any way weather it be a situation or a person- she will make sure it won’t happen again. Knowing that, there was sure a lot of rumors about her, but her sweet exterior (although she does have a soft spot somewhere inside), she easily shut them down because whoever said money can’t solve problems must not have had enough money to solve ‘em.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

From idol to CEO, Ashley is living her dream and is selling it as well on social media. Growing a fan base not only for herself, but for her company as a modern leader that is close to her group’s fans and her own. She keeps a chill image through the images and hides the nitty-gritty of the company (and herself) behind the scenes. As sweet and beautiful as she appears, she’s grown a hard shell throughout the years and keeps a classy image even after all the shit shows in her past and the shit show that she is now, but that’s another story. Ashley goes above and beyond for her artists as she treasures them more than the riches she owns, this applies to her friends if your lucky enough to be one. She becomes poisonous, though, if you ever cross her the wrong way. She’s a tough person to be with, but the ending battle becomes worth it. A friend for life you will have or an enemy that won’t hesitate to sink her teeth and make your last days a living hell. Worry not, she’s more than busy with work than to deal with someone below her. That’s someone else’s job.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

“Be alive, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”

Choi Bitna, the Choi family’s shinning star was born to wealth on a cold November night. As any kin of the Choi’s, they only wanted the best for her, so they sent her to the U.S to broaden her skills at a young age, and there she inherited the name Ashley. In the beginning her life was relatively normal. Kids were just being kids, but when time goes on, people whom she thought were her friends turned against her quickly. Jealousy and envy enveloped her old friends and isolated her throughout the beginning of middle school. Her cries of solitary grew into melodies in a matter of years and singing became a prominent part in her life. Those who were hating her only hated her more for extending her spotlight and it awoken a part of herself she didn’t know was there: the euphoric feeling of being above those who did her wrong. And after being in the dark for so long, the need for attention flourished within her. There was a need inside of her that lead her wanting to be the center of attention and wanting to have control over others just to bash her ex-friends as they did to her. Her reign in the states was short-lived because after graduation, her parents decided to fly her back home to South Korea and raise a child they do not remember. The well mannered Bitna was no longer obedient and to that she responds, “Why should I? You weren’t there so don’t make yourself comfortable now.”

She enrolled into Cheongnam as Ashley, as the image of herself she’s learned to live with because Bitna was too kind for this world. As kind as these rich kids appeared, she knew they were rabid dogs waiting to bite whenever your guard is down- so she never did. She chose to be strong and assertive. Independent as could be, until her little group formed and no longer was she the lone-wolf. It was innocent in the beginning. Just like a relationship, all of them showed the nicest parts of themselves, but as months passed by, so did the honeymoon stage of their friendships. Rumors and relationships flourished but quickly deteriorated faster than they began. The girls were all after her, but Ashley used her knowledge on one of them against her and ganged up on the other, causing a stir in the group. She wasn’t going down without a fight, even if that fight had to be subtle in order to keep a clean image as the ideal group- see, she’s not completely selfish. The snake of the group managed to fuck Ashley over (or should I say D?) and that was the last straw. The teeth and claws were out and she knew that this was the end of an Empire. But not hers. No, not hers.

In the midst of the disaster of Cheongnam, she continued on her desire to be a singer. She spent her nights practicing while going to school in the mornings. Her undying motivation gathered a few fans as a trainee and she showed appreciation with secret accounts that she sometimes used to reply to some of the fans. It was a moment she felt human. As if she did not need to hold a wall up and it sparked a greater love for what she wanted to achieve. Soon the debut date was coming and as a solo artist, there was a great amount of pressure on her. Ashley persevered and debuted at the age of 19. There was hate in the beginning for her origin of coming from a family with money wasn’t a secret, she along with the company continued to promote her until people saw her talents rather than her net worth. She was loved by many and Ashley presented an image completely different compared to those who knew her in Cheongnam. Her persona was believable and anything said wrongly about her, her fans would run to her aide. Which is what happened when Gossip Girl decided to comeback and play around with her. But it was short lived, as expected from her Ashthetics. After years of success, 2017 was the year that she announced her position as CEO of her company, Bermuda Entertainment. Media outlets went wild with the announcements and only brought more attention to her upcoming plans for the company and the new artists. However there is always one person trying to bring her down. Nice try, Gossip Girl. Next!

#247: accepted

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enter-the-bear-circle · 5 years

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Hi, can I please have a Director's Cut for your fascinating story, Walk away from the sun? I'm really interested to hear about your thoughts on it.

Thank you so much for this ask! I didn’t think I would get anything, so this makes me really happy. Long rant ahead, putting it under the cut not to bother anyone. Ok, in this essay I will

First of all, Wafts was orginally meant to be a little fluffy oneshot. In summer I got this idea where Fabrizio worked in a music store and Ermal was a new regular, very flirty and very cute. What started everything was the phrase I saw while casually scrolling through random things: “I liked talking with you so much I even started listening to what I buy” (later I included it in chapter 3). But later I came up with the idea of a soulmate au and decided to put these two thoughts together. I’m going to go through some concepts, or layers, call it how you want.

When I was coming up with the timeline I knew modern metamoro won’t fit, so in this au Ermal is 21, Fabri is 27. This way I could picture them still unsure about their musical career, their soulmate situation and life in general. This is a tough period for both of them for various reasons, and they meet exactly when what they really need is another person to “climb out of hell” together (I’m using In This Moment reference here, I could never phrase it better myself).

Speaking of songs, I spent a long time choosing the title. I wanted it to be a verse of the song that inspired the au, but there were so many of them that I simply couldn’t choose just one. That’s where the chapter titles thing came from. Walk away from the sun by Seether is a song I love to death, and I feel that Seether music in general really fits Fabrizio in this story. He wants to do something right, to escape his past that just keeps returning, but he feels cornered by his fears and doubts. He is sure he will only bring down those close to him, especially Ermal. Also I once saw a discussion on some forum where people talked about the meaning of this song, and they mentioned drug addiction, heartbreak, isolating yourself from the loved ones but also still feeling a tiny glimpse of hope. And to me this screams Fabrizio in this story, even though in this case there’s another meaning of the title, and it will be revealed closer to the end of the fic. Also the songs that hugely inspired Wafts are Pace - Fabrizio Moro, Vietato Morire - Ermal Meta (as for the characterization) and Nobody by Halestorm (as for their relationship).

When I thought about soulmates, I immediately knew I won’t make them ones. Two reasons: I love angst and this opportunity was too good to pass, and I legit don’t know how to deal with the plot where they are soulmates. The world where love is defined by your mark and anything else is disapproved leaves a harmful impact on everyone, even those who found their love in their soulmate (like Romina). Ermal and Fabrizio aren’t afraid of judgement from society, but they still fear for their relationship, especially Ermal who has a very valid reason for that (it will also be revealed in the future chapters).

I have a soft spot for brother-sister relationships, and Romina is one of my favourite characters to write. In chapter 7 Fabrizio called himself and Romina the only bridges between past and present for each other. Their bond is very strong, but even with all the horrible past in the world they escaped together sometimes it’s hard for them to be there for each other. Both of them are very stubborn and fierce, and I love writing moments when their love for each other collides with their bad temper and impulsive nature. Romina is the definition of family for Fabri also because of Chiara, his niece. At first I thought about adding children to this mess, but they didn’t fit the au at all. Still I needed Fabri to have some true light in his life before meeting Ermal, and Chiara became that light. One of his biggest fears is letting Chiara encounter the same things that were a huge part of his own past, that’s why he is so protective over her, especially in the case of his father.

Fabrizio’s father isn’t a villain, but he has some traits that severely harmed his son in the childhood and teenage years and caused the decision to cut ties with every Mobrici. For Fabrizio it was supposed to be the start of another life, life of Moro, a young independent singer. Romina had to make a tough choice between her brother and the rest of the family. She chose Fabri and fought her way through the walls he built around himself. When she tells Fabrizio that she reconnected with their father, she is absolutely sure that man isn’t going to harm her, her brother or her daughter. Fabri himself, however, thinks the exact opposite.

I had a lot of fun writing the shop gang and Giada. There is this light comfortable atmosphere in the shop, and the group has their happy moments, but all of them are there for one another and under their drunk parties and many jokes there’s genuine friendship. Out of everyone Fabri has special connection with Claudio who came around at the worst time in Fabri’s life and dragged him out of the abyss he was falling into, and Giada, the woman who could be the one for him but instead became one of his best friends, the person who was and will always be there for him no matter in what state he is (chapter 8, yeah). She is also sick of trying to fit into the frame, so she and Fabri find comfort and understanding in each other. Honedtly, if I could marry her, I’d do it instantly ;)

I have to mention A. His character was never meant to play such a big role, and chapter 4 was supposed to be only a brief encounter with just one of Fabri’s “old friends”. This chapter was the hardest for me to write as it was the most personal one. Around that time I cut ties with the girl I called my best friend for years. It was a messy breakup, it took me time to realise it’s really over and come at peace with it. Writing helped me a lot to cope. A and his story with Fabrizio are partly based on her and our story, some lines are just took from life and put into the story. Luckily, I never saw her in the dark alleys at night and hopefully never will :)

The concept of later chapters is mainly fragility (thanks to Marjo for giving me this idea). One of the main problems for Fabrizio is his overprotectiveness. It comes from many times he had to face the world alone, the times when he hated himself for having feelings, for being "weak". He struggled a lot to swallow his emotions and keep them bottled up, so he's afraid to mess up with letting all his feelings out. Ermal sees it and fries to reach out to Fabri, but his soft gentle ways don't work, and only when he loses control, something in Fabrizio changes. Ermal is scared to lose Fabri, especially when there are so many things to lose him to: alcohol, painful memories, his soulmate. So every time you see Ermal trying to reason with Fabri or help him in any way, you see him being terrified.

I should end this rant before it swallows my whole blog. Honestly, I’m very moved by all the positive feedback I got, all the kudos, comments, kind words and support in general, especially since I’m new to the world of fanfiction. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I will continue this story. I have a plan, I have determinarion, I have love I received from people who liked it. If you read to this point, you are my hero. Seriously. I hope this was at least in some sense informative and I didn’t bore the hell out of you. Once again, thank you for the ask and for the compliments 💜💜💜💜

#wafts #director's cut #thank you so much #crawls back into her hole

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bughead-fic-request · 7 years

Note

Hi. Would you consider writing a bughead one-shot that was a romantic date night? It's up to you if you want to make it a fluffy fic or smut. xD Anyways, that's my request and its a super broad one at that.

Modern Love

Summary: Rising movie star Jughead Jones takes seasoned pop star Betty Cooper on a date unlike any other.

Words: 4,487

Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, drug use, smoking, drinking, slight sexual situations. No smut.

A/N: Here is my take on the romantic date night cause I can’t do anything like a normal person. I posted on AO3 as well.

I edited this myself so there are probably errors.

Betty Cooper had been famous for most of her life. When she auditioned for X-Factor as a fourteen year old, she was put together with three other girls to create the next big girl group, Aurora.

They came in third place on the show but became one of the biggest girl groups since the Spice Girls. Four years and three albums later Betty was ready to move out on her own as a solo artist and was met with astounding success. Not only was Betty a talented singer but a gifted songwriter as well.

Her first solo album went on to win 4 Grammys and sky rocketed her into super stardom.

It was around this time she met the much older Academy Award winning actor, Archie Andrews. Their courtship was a whirlwind and four months later the couple was married.

It was a rocky marriage at best that lasted a little over two and a half years. Unknown to Betty when they wed, Archie was a heavy drug user and this made him erratic, unsupportive, unreliable and, at times, violent.

The marriage ended after Archie had gotten them into a serious car crash. Betty had broken her arm, both of her legs and had technically died for two minutes. Neither Archie nor the former Mrs. Andrews ever spoke about the accident and Betty filled for divorce the moment she recovered.

Betty was twenty-two, divorced and had just released her sophomore album. It was an album about Archie and it showed. Beautiful heartbreaking songs about love, loss, mistakes and an eyebrow raising track called “Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth” got people talking.

She refused to confirm if it was a song about her former husband but there were already plenty rumours about Archie Andrews alleged drug use. Archie had a great PR team but people and the tabloids could speculate but it was never harmful enough to ruin his career.

Betty assumed she would never fall in love again. She couldn’t date like regular people, she couldn’t do anything without it being looked over with a fine toothed comb. Archie had messed her up too badly and she knew she would never be who she was before she met him.

And then Jughead Jones came out of nowhere.

He was listed as one of the actors to watch in 2017. The year before he had been in six movies working with Martin Scorsese, Jennifer Lawrence, Damien Chazelle, Anton Yelchin, Jeff Bridges and Mike Nichols. He had worked on the reboot of Twin Peaks and had four more films coming out in 2017, including a role in the newest Star Wars movie.

He had been working on a film with David Fincher in Los Angeles when he met Betty. She was a friend of actress Veronica Lodge who was currently working on the movie as well. They had all been invited to a party Charlize Theron was throwing.

He met her on the terrace after he snuck out to have a cigarette he wasn’t supposed to be having. Veronica was trying to ween him off the cancer sticks, as she called them.

“You’re not supposed to be doing that.” Betty chided coming out of the shadows. Her soft blonde hair whipping around her face.

Jughead jumped and clutched his chest in surprise. “Fuck!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you but those things will kill you and if they don’t, Veronica certainly will. She’s been telling me all about her mission to make you smoke free.” Betty joked taking a step towards him.

“Can it be our little secret? I’m still not used to all this Hollywood stuff and the cigarettes calm me.” He admitted.

She smiled and nodded her head. “Sure.”

“You want one?” He offered her the pack.

“No thanks, it’s not good for my voice.” She informed touching her throat.

Jughead moved his head in understanding and put the pack in his pocket. “I love the new album by the way.”

Betty felt her cheeks flush, still not able to understand why anyone would praise her. “Thanks. It turned out really well but it was hell to make.”

“Yeah, I heard about all that stuff. I’m sorry.” He took a drag of the cigarette looking out to the city.

She shrugged, ripping up a leaf she had pulled off a plant. “I made a bad choice, we all make them.”

He stood up straight and stuck out his hand. “I’m Jughead Jones, by the way.”

Betty laughed. “I know.”

“You do?” He asked shocked.

“Well, yeah, Veronica pointed you out almost the second we got in here and I’ve seen your movies.” She smirked when his eyes went wide.

“You have?” He said still shocked.

“Yeah, there isn’t a lot to on a tour bus so I’ve seen La La Land and X-Men and Green Room, you’re good.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

Jughead blushed. “And how did you meet Veronica?”

“I did a song for the Hunger Games movie she was in and we met her at the promo party. I found her in a bathroom, drunk and throwing up. I held back her hair and cleaned her up. We’ve been friends ever since.”

“What a strange thing to bond over.” Jughead remarked.

“Jug?” Veronica’s voice rang out. “Bets?”

Jughead started panicking, not knowing what to do with the cigarette. Betty giggled as she watched him struggle before taking the cigarette from his hand and throwing it over the side of the building.

They both turned to watch Veronica, the statuesque brunette, step out onto the terrace. “Good! You met, sorry I didn’t introduce the two of you sooner but these parties are so exhausting.” She stopped in front of the pair. “Were you smoking?” She asked, eyeing Jughead.

He shook his head. “It must be from one of the buildings around us or something or maybe a raccoon carried a cigarette up here-”

Betty cut him off. “There was someone out here smoking. They went in just before you came out.”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s go inside. James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender showed up and they are singing karaoke.” She clapped rapidly before turning on her heels and skipping back into the apartment.

Betty glanced at him with a grin. “You know, for someone who lies for a living, you’re a terrible liar.” She moved towards the inside and motioned her head in the same direction. “Come on, if we are doing karaoke then this is my time to shine.”

The two of them found themselves gravitating towards each other all night. Jughead couldn’t take his eyes off her when she sang a rendition of ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ with Michael Fassbender.

He immediately understood why she was the only one to be successful when the girls broke free from Aurora. She had that thing, that star quality that would make her incredibly famous even if she wasn’t talented. Your eye was instantly drawn to her.

The night came to a close but before her and Veronica left Jughead caught up with them.

“Hey Betty, do you think I could give you a call some time?” He asked feeling stupid for doing it in front of Veronica who began to smirk. “Or a text or email or call your agent? I don’t know, I’ve never asked out a famous person before.”

Betty laughed and shot a quick look to Veronica who gave her an encouraging nod. “Give me your phone.” She instructed.

He handed her the device and she punched in her number. “That is my personal number, please protect it.” She handed it back to him. “Please use it though.”

“I will, I promise.” He smiled at her.

Betty tucked her hair behind ears and laughed. “I’ll see you around then.” She gave him a small wave, got into the elevator and disappeared with Veronica.

He did call her and they went on a handful of dates, usually at her place and one at his. They had attempted a dinner out but the paparazzi and constant interruptions from fans made it impossible.

They had managed to go on an outing to a secret lake in a field two hours outside of Los Angeles. No one had followed them and it was the first time they were alone in a place that wasn’t one of their homes.

“You know that I’ve never been on a real date before. I guess this would come closest.” Betty said as she sunned topless while Jughead looked over the scattered tattoos on her body.

“What do you mean?” Jughead asked looking up at her.

“I mean every date I’ve ever been on has been overrun by paparazzi or every other person is asking me for an autograph.” She sighed. “I’ve never had that, ’Where did you grow up?’, ‘What’s your family like?’ kind of dinner date. I’ve never really felt normal but I guess that’s the price for everything I have.”

“A real date isn’t much different, I can assure you. I can understand the want to have something you’ve never had.” His finger ran across the underside of her breast. “What is this? What do these names mean?” He asked tracing the names Natalie and William.

Betty shifted uncomfortably. “The second I tell you, you’ll look at me differently.” She admitted.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me.” He said taking a sip of his beer, looking at the tranquil surroundings around them.

They were silent for sometime before Betty spoke. “I was two months pregnant when Archie got us into that car crash. I had no idea, my period had always been fucked up so I thought the light spotting was normal.” She swallowed hard. “He was on heroin that night, I didn’t know that either. I thought he was drunk and he had become so belligerent I just wanted to leave.” She was silent again for so long he thought the story was over until she started again. “They said I barely looked like a person when they pulled me out of the wreckage, they couldn’t believe I was alive. When I came too and found out that I had lost the baby, I wish I had died. I was even more furious that Archie walked away unscathed.” She sat up and took a sip of her drink. “There were some dark nights I thought about killing him.” She confessed and looked down at him. “I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl but this is what I would have named them either way.”

“That’s what the song is about? The Junkie one? It’s about Archie.”

Betty nodded. “‘Red Red Red’ is about the babies.”

Jughead nodded and thought about a certain lyric from the song.

What’s happened has happened/What’s coming is already on its way/With a role for me to play/I don’t understand/I’ll never understand/But I’ll try to understand/There’s nothing else I can do

“I’m so sorry Betty.” He said.

“So am I.” She shook her head. “He was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made and I’ll never forgive myself for making it.”

Jughead sat up and brushed the hair from her face. “Bets, you have to, okay? You have to try. I’ll help you if you want.”

She smiled and nodded, leaning in to kiss him. “Thank you for being so wonderful.” She remarked.

“It’s easy when I’m with you.” He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her again, pushing her down into the grass.

They made love for the first time that afternoon.

Jughead knew he wanted to do something special for her because he was falling in love with her. She had been through so much in her short life and it killed him to watch her deal with the pain.

He wanted to give her something no other person could give her.

“Can you be ready for 8?” He asked her on the phone as he paced his trailer.

“I can, is there anything you want me to wear?” She teased in a playful way.

“If I said I have a thing for little black dresses, would you be repulsed?” Jughead joked.

“Many fashion critics have said that a little black dress is what I look best in.” She giggled. “Let me know when you are getting here and I’ll buzz you in.”

“Sounds great!” Jughead was trying to hide his excitement as he signed off on a release for the nights upcoming festivities. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“I’m counting on it.” She hung up and Jughead head smiled.

He looked at the grey three piece that hung in the closet. He looked good in grey, grey was the right color. She would like him in grey.

Betty had too many little black dresses, they had accumulated over the years. Ones she had bought and ones that had been given to her for photoshoots, red carpets and when she was performing on stage. She settled on a tight, strapless satin dress that cut off just above the knee. She put her hair up in a high teased ponytail and slipped on some strappy gold high heels. She kept her makeup minimal.

Her doorbell rang around six. Betty was confused because she hadn’t agreed to let Jughead in yet and he was far too early for the date. She strode to her front door to be greeted by Gus, the man who guarded her community, holding a large bouquet of red roses in a vase.

“Oh my god, come in Gus!” She waved him in, making room on the table sitting in the middle of her grand foyer. “Where did these come from?”

“A messenger dropped them off, there is a card.” Gus said placing them down.

She opened the card and couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.

You’re smiling aren’t you? You better be smiling. I’ll see you soon. - Jughead xoxo

Betty bit her lip as a blush crept into her cheeks. She was falling hard for this boy and it terrified her. The last time she fell for someone she almost lost her life but she loved the smile on her face and the fire in her cheeks and knew she needed to take that chance.

“Thank you, Gus.” Betty cooed.

“Never a problem, Miss Cooper.” Gus gave a slight nod and went out the way he came in.

Betty had gotten dressed far too early and found herself sitting around watching crappy reality TV with a nervous excitement running through her. She didn’t think her foot could bounce anymore when her house phone rang.

“Hello, Miss Cooper, a Jughead Jones is here.” Gus said knowing full well who Jughead was.

“Yep, let him in.” She instructed putting down her phone and running to the mirror to make sure she still looked good.

She took a deep breath in. This felt different from any other date they had ever been on. Betty felt like everything would be different when she kissed him goodbye that night.

The doorbell rang and she forced herself to walk at a normal pace to answer it. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face when she saw him. He was wearing a pristinely tailored, grey three piece suit and his dark hair was brushed back.

“Hi.” She sighed leaning against the door, forgetting all her manners.

“Hi.” He softly said back, taking a step towards her, his arm wrapping around her waist pulling her flush against him. His lips met hers, the kiss was delicate but filled with all the expectation of the coming night. “You look incredible.”

Betty blushed. “Thank you.” She kissed him again as she ran her hands up and down his arms. “What are we doing tonight?” She asked.

“It’s a surprise.” He grinned wickedly.

“Do we have time for a drink?” She asked.

Jughead shook his head. “We have reservations for 8:30 and we have to be on time for them.”

Betty pouted before smiling at him. “Fine, let me grab my clutch.” She turned to collect her small black satin bag that was sitting beside the roses. “Thank you for those by the way.” She said as she locked up. “I love roses, they are so beautiful.”

“I’m glad you liked them.” Jughead placed his hand on her lower back and steered her towards the car. He opened the door to his black Mercedes and helped Betty inside. Jughead handed her a blindfold once he was in the car.

“What is this?” Betty asked with skeptical eyes.

“I need you to put it on. I want where we are going to be a surprise and it can’t be a surprise if you see where we’re going.” He explained placing the blindfold in her hand. “I promise it’ll be worth it.”

She stared at him for a moment and then half smiled. “Okay.” She put it on and settled back into the seat as the car took off.

“Are you ready for the crazy amount of paparazzi that are going to be wherever we are going. You know they are following us. They sit outside my house constantly.” She informed.

“I’m ready for it.” He assured linking his fingers with hers.

They were silent as they drove to their destination, Betty trying to count turns, trying to figure out where they were headed. The car stopped and Jughead got out.

“Jug? Jug?” She said almost taking off the blindfold before he jumped back in.

“Sorry about that, just a few more minutes, promise.” The car started moving again.

She felt a wave of excitement flow through her. “Can I take off the blindfold?” She asked when the car finally stopped again.

“Yes.” Jughead said getting out of the vehicle.

Betty blinked a few times after taking off the mask letting her eyes adjust to where they were. They were parked on a quiet street. There were shops, apartments and restaurants lining the block as people went about their lives. There was no paparazzi, no star fuckers, nothing Betty was accustomed to. “This place looks weird.”

She stepped out of the car when Jughead held the door open for her and directed her to a small Italian restaurant called, Alle Testiere, a few doors down from where they parked. “Where are we? Are we still in the city?” She asked.

“Kinda.” He smiled as they entered the building.

There were a few couples in front of them and they waited their turn to speak to the hostess. Betty couldn’t remember the last time she had to wait for anything.

“Hi there,” the dark haired hostess beamed. “For two?”

“Yeah, there is a reservation under Jones for 8:30.” He looked over the podium to look at the log.

“Ah, yes, we are just getting your table ready right now, please take a seat.” She motioned over to a bench by the door.

Jughead and Betty sat down and she looked around at the other people waiting to be seated. They carried on conversations with each other seemingly ignoring the movie and pop star in front of them.

“Is your car actually a Tardis that sent us to a parallel timeline where we aren’t famous?” Betty asked looking over at him.

He laughed, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “No, my car is not a Tardis.”

“It’s a Delorean and we have gone back in time to the 90’s?” She inquired.

“Why are you so obsessed with time travel?” He questioned.

“Why aren’t any of these people looking at me? At us?”

He shrugged. “Maybe you aren’t as famous as you think you are.”

“Jones!” The hostess called.

Jughead stood and held his hand out to her. “Come on.”

She followed him to a small table for two surrounded by couples who didn’t seem to care they were there.

“You like Italian food, right?” Jughead asked as he began looking over the wine menu.

“Yeah, I love Italian.” Betty said looking around. No one was secretly pointing their phones at her or whispering to each other. “Seriously though, where are we?”

“Hello, my name is Andrew and I will be you server for tonight.” A tall blonde man smiled down at them.

Jughead looked at her. “Do you mind if I order wine for the table?”

She shook her head reaching for her phone, trying to figure out where she was but was distracted when Jughead started speaking.

“We’ll have the 2013 Switchback.” Jughead said with a smile as he handed the waiter the wine list.

“Excellent choice, sir, I’ll be right back.”

Betty looked over it him. “Jug.” She said calmly, her hands pressing flat against the leather menu.

“Bets.” He said looking over his food options.

“What is this place?”

He put the menu down and smiled at her. “Do you remember our date at the lake and you told me you had never been on a real date before?”

Betty nodded slowly.

“This is your first real date.” He lifted his arms, showcasing his work off.

“I don’t understand.” She admitted.

“I called in every favour I was owed and most actors in L.A. will do anything for a free meal and 50 bucks. Fincher being Fincher demanded to have a whole city block built and wanted to do tracking shots into this restaurant so…” He trailed off.

“This is a backlot?” She asked starting to understand what he had done for her.

He nodded.

“And all these people are actors?”

“Who have all signed non-disclosures, have no phones and, for just tonight, have no idea who you are.”

A wave of emotion hit her and she let out a mix of a sob and a laugh. “Oh my god, Jug.” Tears filled her eyes as she covered her agape mouth.

“Everyone should go one at least one real date.” He smiled warmly at her.

“I cannot believe you did this.” She laughed as a few tears streaked her face. “How much did this cost? How long were you planning this?” She asked wanting to jump across the table and hug him with no intention of ever letting go.

“That’s not for you to worry about.” He smiled. She could see the love in his eyes and she felt like she was about to burst.

That was the moment she fell in love with him.

“Sir.” The waiter showed him the bottle of wine and Jughead nodded. The server began to uncork the wine. “Are we here for a special occasion?” He asked.

“It’s our first real date.” Jughead told him before sniffing, tasting and nodding that the wine was okay.

“Oh, well that is lovely.” He smiled at Betty who was drying her eyes, still overwhelmed by what was happening. “The specials tonight are Chicken Carbonara and Seafood Bolognese. I would recommended both.” He smiled.

“Can we have one of each? We’ll share.” Betty laughed.

“Coming right up.” The waiter left.

“How are they cooking the meals?” Betty asked as she took a sip of the amazing wine.

“You don’t need to worry about that either.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, where did you grow up?”

She laughed. He was making sure she had a true date experience. “I grew up in a small town called Riverdale. It’s not very interesting. You don’t want to go there.”

“You didn’t have a happy childhood?” He asked.

She shrugged. “It was fine, it’s just a small town and it’s boring and I was forced into a lot of excitement at a very young age and I’m not sure I could live there anymore.”

“I grew up in a small town in Canada. Innisfil, Ontario, it’s not far from Toronto.”

“You’re Canadian?” Betty exclaimed. “I didn’t know that! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It never came up but I never much cared for where I grew up either. I felt like I had bigger ideas than a small town would allow.” He took a sip of his wine. “That’s probably why I left.”

“I can relate to that.” Betty laughed. “My mom took me to LA when I was ten. I was in so many commercials before I tried out for X-Factor.”

“What was it like being famous that young?”

“I think I thought I was an adult when I wasn’t. I didn’t really get to be a kid, I basically had to sexualize myself the second I was put into Aurora. I grew up fast and it was probably the reason I thought I was ready to get married when I was eighteen.”

“Would you have done anything differently, in retrospect?” Jughead asked knowing the answer.

Betty took a sip of her wine. “Other than that horrible night, no. Being in Aurora was amazing and I love what I do. Marrying Archie was a mistake I needed to make to get myself to this very moment.” She smiled warmly. “This is a pretty exceptional moment.”

“Do you have any siblings?” Jughead asked.

Betty nodded. “An older brother and sister.”

“Really?” Jughead leaned forward. “Do you get along?” He asked.

Betty started talking about her family and every aspect of her life she could think of. Jughead did the same as dinner came and went along with dessert. No one bothered them, they received no knowing looks, not a single phone was ever pointed at them just as he had promised.

For the first time in a long time, Betty felt normal.

Jughead paid the bill and they lazily walked back to the car without a single paparazzo shoving a camera in their face or asking her if she was still in love with Archie.

Betty looked out the window, her fingers laced with Jughead’s as they left the lot and drove home. She couldn’t remember a time she felt so content, like everything was going to be fine.

Jughead parked the car in front of her home and walked her to the door, which she unlocked and stepped inside. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you properly for this night.”

“I’m hoping there will be plenty of moments for you to try.” Jughead whispered pulling Betty in for a kiss. This was more intense than the first one they shared that night. He didn’t care if he was going to mess up her make up or wreck her hair, he needed to be as close to her as possible.

“I’m in love with you.” Betty said first, panting when they parted.

Jughead looked at her, his eyes moving over her face wanting to remember her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “I love you too.” He kissed her again as she pulled him into her home and he closed the door behind him.

Jughead stayed the night and every night after that.

#riverdale #Bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty cooper #jughead jones #jughead x betty #betty x jughead #one shot #ao3 #romantic date

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