#<- you definitely think youre still dreaming bec wait why and how and oh fuck it's embarrassing to the point u hope ur dreaming

[suituuup]

that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of

Has Beca mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Word count: 2005

Rating: T

Entry for Bechloe week, day one: “Because I'm in love with you, dumbass.”

Beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou and thanks to @green-eyed-weirdo for bouncing ideas with me <3

READ ON AO3

*

The muffled giggle greeting Beca when she steps through the door makes her groan. The deep voice that follows confirms that Chloe is indeed not alone, and Beca briefly considers turning around and… going for a walk or something.

But her feet are about to fall off, she feels gross from her overcrowded subway ride home where she’s pretty sure a dude sniffed her hair, and she is really fucking tired.

She’s just flopped down face first on the pull-out couch when the door to Chloe’s bedroom opens, and two sets of feet grow closer.

“You alright, Becs?”

Beca grunts something inaudible in acknowledgment before she rolls on her back. “M’fine.”

“Hey Beca,” Chicago greets her with a soft smile, and Beca somehow manages to leash in her sneer.

“Hey,” she mumbles, the best she can muster when it comes to Chloe’s boyfriend.

Has she mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Yep. It’s only been four years and a half; not a big deal.

She was this close to admitting her feelings to Chloe, still reeling with adrenaline after her solo performance, when Chloe ran to Army Boy instead. Beca doesn’t think she knew what a broken heart felt like until that very moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chicago asks, setting his hands on Chloe’s hips.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees and leans up to kiss his lips. Beca rolls her eyes, grabbing her phone from her back pocket as a distraction from the display of gag-worthy affection.

The door finally clicks shut behind Chicago, and Beca hears Chloe sigh. That kind of content sigh that has jealousy flare up within her because Chloe should be sighing like that because of her.

“I thought he was leaving tomorrow morning?” Beca asks as she scrolls through her Instagram, not really registering the photos zooming past her eyes.

“Not anymore,” Chloe says, biting on her bottom lip like she’s trying to prevent a smile from breaking through. “He’s um, going to be stationed in Brooklyn. His request just got granted.”

A huge lump forms in Beca’s throat as she registers the news and an uneasy feeling seized her stomach. “That’s--” she swallows with difficulty, swiping her tongue over her dry lips. “That’s great, Chlo.”

She soon exits Instagram, opening her safari to look for apartment listings.

*

Finding an apartment in New York City within her price range, as it turns out, is pretty fucking difficult.

You would think Beca was aware of that given the fact that there used to be one more person living in her current studio, with a simple curtain acting as bathroom walls.

(she definitely has PTSD from that night Amy had food poisoning from Taco Bell.)

When Amy moved out, Chloe took her room, because Beca is the night owl of the two, usually coming home late from work or cooking dinner after Chloe has gone to bed.

It’s pushing eleven by the time she makes it back that night, and she prays that Chloe is already in bed. The past couple of weeks following the news have been… weird, to say the least. Beca has been avoiding Chloe, coming up with excuses whenever Chloe asks her if she wants to hang out.

She makes herself a quick dinner (okay, makes might be a bit of an overstatement: she just pours some hot water over instant noodles. Don’t come at her.) and messes around on her laptop for a while, turning the lights off just after one am.

A moan reaching her ears just as she feels herself dozing off has her eyes fly open. A moan that very much belongs to Chloe, and Beca just wants to disappear off the face of the earth. Quiet laughter follows, and when the bed starts squeaking, leaving no doubt regarding what they’re doing in there, Beca ponders smothering herself with her own pillow.

She grabs her headphones instead, hastily placing them over her ears before she hears something that will most likely scar her forever. It somewhat cancels out the sounds, enough for Beca to fall asleep. She flees the apartment before either of them is awake, drowning her sorrows in a double espresso from the corner coffee shop.

Over the next few days, she excels in avoiding Chloe. She knows Chloe’s schedule well enough to come back when she’s either asleep or not there. Or at least she thought so.

“Hey.”

Beca freezes as she closes the door, looking over her shoulder to find Chloe popping her head out of the fridge.

Beca clears her throat, rubbing her nose with her knuckle as she stares down at the scuff of her shoes. “Hey,” she echoes, setting her keys down on the counter.

“Long time no see,” Chloe says as Beca sits on the edge of her bed to take her boots off.

“Yeah um, I’ve been busy,” Beca mumbles as she undoes her laces.

“Busy avoiding me?”

Beca’s spine snaps straighter at that, and she looks up to meet Chloe’s eyes. “No, just--” her shoulder lifts in a half shrug. “I figured you and Chicago might enjoy some private time together.”

Chloe hums like she doesn’t believe her. “You’d tell me if-- if something was bothering you, right? I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

Beca swallows. “It’s not you, Chlo. I’m just--” she sighs, feeling her frustration rise as she scrapes her brain for a believable lie. “Work sucks and I feel like I’m getting nowhere, so I’ve been crankier than usual.”

Chloe nods, her lips curving in a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time at work,” she says. “We should go out tonight! It’s been forever.”

Beca’s rebuttal lies on the tip of her tongue, out of reflex. She swallows it back, because Chloe is giving her those puppy eyes she’s mastered so well, and Beca knows damn well she can’t resist. Besides, she could definitely use a drink. Or ten.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

That’s how they find themselves in an overly too loud, busy club a handful of hours later. Beca is definitely tipsy, and Chloe has just ordered shots, so she knows she’s likely to finish the night with her head in the toilet. But she hasn’t laughed like that in a while, and it feels amazing to be… Beca and Chloe again.

It’s ruined just after Beca downs her first shot, when Army Boy shows up.

“Hi!” Chloe exclaims, springing up from her stool to hug him.

Beca grits her teeth so hard that she’s half-concerned they might break, her eyes throwing daggers at Chicago’s head.

“Hey Beca,” he says, apparently oblivious as he slides on the vacant stool.

Beca simply tilts her chin towards him, along with a tight-lipped smile. As Chicago orders his drink with the waitress, Beca shrugs her jacket on. “I’m gonna go,” she announces over the music, not caring one bit that it’s obvious as to why.

She doesn’t wait for a reply, letting her legs carry her towards the exit as quickly as possible as tears burn her eyes. She bumps into someone in her haste and mumbles a disoriented sorry, sucking in a much needed breath as soon as she steps outside of the club.

The music gradually fades away as she starts down the sidewalk, tugging her jacket tighter around her frame when a chill rolls down her spine. She’s not even sure in which direction she’s going, set on hailing the first cab she finds.

“What the hell is your problem??”

Beca freezes at the familiar voice, swallowing around the forming lump in her throat before she turns around. She barely meets Chloe’s eyes. “I’m just tired, Chlo.”

“Bullshit,” Chloe spits out, a scoff flying past her lips as she shakes her head. Her typically warm eyes are bone-chilling icy. “You left the second he got here.”

Beca sighs heavily, her hands forming fists by her sides in an attempt to tame her growing irritation. “Yeah well, maybe I didn’t feel like being the third wheel. I thought it was just going to be you and I, tonight. But you two have been attached to the hip and all you can talk about is Chicago this, Chicago that.”

“Well I’m sorry if I enjoy his company,” Chloe fires back. “You know, the least you could do is be happy for me.”

“Oh great, the guilty card,” Beca says, eyes rolling skyward. She sucks in a sharp breath. “I can’t be happy for you, Chlo.”

Chloe staggers back as though Beca’s words slapped her in the face. “What?”

“I said, I can’t be happy for you,” Beca repeats, her tone rising along with her frustration.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Chloe asks, a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion surfacing in her features. “Why can’t you be happy for me? That’s what best friends are supposed to do, you know. I mean, are you even still my best friend? Because you haven’t been acting like one those past--”

“Because I’m in love with you, dumbass!” Beca finally blurts, a lot louder than necessary. Her declaration catches the attention of a few bypassers, but Beca is too focused on Chloe to care.

She watches as realization dawns in Chloe’s eyes, and all she can hear is her heart beating madly in her ears. She swallows, glancing down at the crack in the sidewalk. “And I’m the biggest idiot in the world,” she mumbles, roughly wiping at her cheeks when she feels a few tears rolling down her skin. “I’ll be out of the apartment by tomorrow.”

Beca is thankful Chloe doesn’t follow her when she turns around and resumes her journey home. She ends up walking all the way, too embarrassed to break down in a cab like in those stupid rom-coms. She texts Amy when she makes it back to ask if she can crash at her fancy apartment, fishing out her suitcase as soon as her friend agrees. Tears keep leaking out, and Beca wipes them away with her sleeve before she starts shoving her clothes into the suitcase, trying to ignore the way her heart aches.

A key slides into the lock just as she’s done packing. Beca straightens and hastily wipes her cheeks dry, even though she knows her bloodshot eyes will betray her.

“You’re really leaving,” Chloe murmurs, her voice barely audible.

Beca sniffles as she heaves her suitcase off the bed and sets it down. “Yep.”

“Why?”

Beca bites back a humorless laugh. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m not a masochist?” She deadpans. “Seeing you and Chicago together isn’t exactly fun.”

“We broke up.”

Beca’s breathing halts as she registers the words. Her jaw slacks. “What?”

Chloe clears her throat a little, taking a step closer. She’s fiddling with her keys, something she does when she gets shy, nervous or nervous, or excited. “Well, I broke up with him.”

“You did?” Beca croaks out.

Chloe nods, the corners of her lips upturning in a sheepish smile. “Because it’s always been you, dumbass.”

Beca’s lungs flood with oxygen, and her shoulders slump, releasing the tension at once. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Chloe echoes, raising an eyebrow as she takes another step.

Beca closes her eyes briefly, her head tilting as she frowns. “Sorry, I think my brain needs to be re-booted. Could you um, could you say that again?”

Chloe chuckles, finally closing the remaining distance between them. She cups Beca’s cheek and joins their lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Beca’s knees quake as a bunch of butterflies release in her belly, and she can’t quite believe this is really happening.

She licks her tingling lips when Chloe pulls away, feeling a bit dizzy. “Um, I’m not sure I quite got that one, either. Care for an encore?”

The first of many, many ones.

[stellocchia]

This is part 5 of the Comprehensive Analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc

Part 1 -  Part 2 -  Part 3 -  Part 4

So, this time I’m condensing together 2 streams, so It may be slightly longer then Parts 3 and 4... 

Also from here on out as usual we will be talking exclusively about the characters unless stated otherwise and we will be treating some heavy themes, so keep that in mind

So, first stream we’ll be talking about is: TommyInnit Is Actually Depressed in Exile

So, as I mentioned at the end of the last one, once the party stream was over Tommy seemed to dissociate and go underwater until he had only one air bubble remaining and then logged off. This stream starts with Tommy drowning and being extremely confused as to how that happened. Also Tommy moved to the second fase of his exile Minecraft skin.

“I held a party and the only person who showed up was Dream. But it’s okay because he’s great! He’s- he’s cool...” 

*Tommy sees a Tubbo statue holding a ‘Your Tommy’ compass* “Tubbo is the reason that I’m out here... ‘Your Tommy compass’? Dream told me that Tubbo lost his compass!” (once again absolutely trusting what Dream says)

“If Tubbo wanted to be here then he could come here and he’s chosen NOT TO! Even if he didn’t get fucking invited to the party, which he did! He’s not shown up once... not to say ‘hi’, not left a gift, not left me anything... he’s just been... Tubbo” 

“Everyone keeps coming to me out of pity and no-one comes in just to say ‘hello’, no the only person who’s- *long pause* the only person who’s done that is Dream... he’s the only person” (this is a bit of an insight on Tommy’s mindset regarding others)

So, now the mailing chest has been moved to underneath Tommy’s bed, because Dream kept intercepting Ranboo’s and Tommy’s mails. Also Ranboo writing “Jesus Christ Dream is scary” in this mail is a mood.

“You know, if it was Tubbo that got exiled, which he wouldn’t have in the first place, everyone would be visiting him everyday. Even if I was the president and I was the one who had to exile him I would have visited him everyday, everyone would have... if the roles were reversed... but the roles aren’t reversed” 

It’s interesting that by now he has internilized that Tubbo would not have been exiled because he’s much more obedient when Dream never cared about that (he did care, but only to the extent of: Tommy not following his orders is the most probable reason for Dream’s obsession with him). He would have pushed for the exile (also known as Glorified Kidnapping) no matter what sooner or later. If Tubbo was the one to be unfortunate enough to attract Dream’s obsession nothing would have changed from that point of view, except, would Tommy have been as afraid of visiting Tubbo as Tubbo was of visiting him? 

Also then Tommy tries to make 2 Screaming Stations. One near the sea and one in the neter (coincidentally directly above the two liquids he almost died from in exile). Neither of them worked, the nether one only resulting effective once a ghast shot him. Also this is the stream where Tommy drops Jack Manifold into lava (though he had no idea that that was a canon kill) and Jack kindaps/kills Tommy’s pumpking girlfriend as revenge? It’s a weird one. Another thing to point out is that Tommy just doesn’t wear armour at any point.

“Why did I just do that? Why did I just kill him?” *joins Jack vc* “Listen, I’m really sorry” (just to specify Tommy did apologize multiple times right after doing it, since a lot of people seem not to remember how things went)

“For some reason I just can’t let it out... why can’t- why can’t I scream?” (said right before a ghast fireballed him and he screamed)

After that Ranboo comes to visit. Tommy also breaks a bit more of the Nether path and then he makes the signs: “You are now entering Logstedshire, population: 1″ and “You are now entering Dream Smp, Happy Place. They’re all happy. It’s not quiet, just happy”. 

“Aside from maybe Dream” *seeing Ranboo* “And also I guess a bit Ranboo no-one’s came to visit me and when they have they’ve been live so that they can go ‘Oh he’s in exile guys, come and look at this! Come and look at this!’” (a good canon interpretation of this is that Tommy is feeling like a carnival attraction as he put it a while ago. Also Ranboo is now his strongest connection aside from Dream)

“I would actually go and get pets since pets are the best thing for sad people, but so far all my pets have just been used to be tortured in war so I don’t wanna- I don’t wanna put them through that...” (that’s a really f*cking grim take that just so happens to be true that was shoved in the middle of a random stream...) 

“Ranboo I’ve had a bit- you know ‘cause Dream isn’t on?” “Mhm” “I reckon I’m gonna- I’m gonna- one day Ranboo I’m gonna fight back, but for now he’s my only friend. Other then you” “Heh, yeah... wait!” “What if I make a little... heh a room”

This bit is quite an important one: Tommy’s first (and last) real act of rebellion against his situation. He’s still confused about it because he thinks of Dream as a friend, but he knows that his situation cannot last forever and that he will need to fight back at some point. He never gets to build a sort of “resistence in exile” type of thing, but he does manage later on to snap out of Dream’s control.

“I’m not gonna fight back now, because I owe everything to Dream. He comes and sees me and he gives me armour sometimes and he makes me happier and he gives me his trident” “Isn’t he the reason why you’re in this situation?” (now Ranboo is the one who took on the role of the one poking holes in Dream’s retoric)

“I made a bee sanctuary or whatever it’s called” “Oh shit! Can I come and see it?” “Oh yeah when you- you come back. When you’re allowed to come back. Which hopefully will be soon” “Oh... you’re like the others” (I’m not entirely sure how to interpret this exchange, but it is the point where Tommy starts loosing trust in Ranboo)

“Apparently Tubbo got a compass” “Yeah! Oh yeah the compass... it got accidentally, like, it was very terrible timing with a charged creeper” “He let it go?” “He didn’t let it go!” “He let me go?” “No he didn’t- he didn’t purposefully let it go, he wouldn’t do that” (this conversation is very much NOT about the compass...)

“But Ranboo, listen, at some point I’m gonna have to do something about this and I don’t know if that’s gonna be... someone’s gonna die” (pretty sure he’s referring to himself there...)

“So recently my buddy Dream has been doing this thing where he um- it makes sense though! Because I’m not in his land anymore, but he ta- he takes shit from me so I need to make sure that I keep them in that chest down there” (it is indeed quite typical for victims of abuse to justify their abuser’s actions and that’s what we’re seeing)

“Everyone in this world you think cares: probably doesn’t”

“You didn’t come to my fucking party Ranboo and I invited everyone!” “You did?” “I didn’t, I didn’t, Wilbur did! And everyone could have came and you didn’t” “Wait what do you mean? There was no invite!”

So, up until now it was of course only speculation that Dream had tampered with the Party invites, but, of course, this is the first proof we have of that fact. Later on Ranboo reiterates his point during the Bedrock Boys Arc, since this time Tommy was still too hurt by it to actually try and listen to him.

“I know that, whatever happens, I’m not gonna be here forever. Wether it’s in exile or wether it’s just here [alive], I’ve no idea how long I’ve got left” (in case it wasn’t obvious: Tommy in exile was suicidal)

“Ranboo everyone always tells me I was the- the- the hero of this server, the one that came and fucking fought Dream and the only one that ever spoke against him but... maybe I was just- maybe this was just meant to be...” (Tommy also very much resents the idea of being a “hero”)

“Doesn’t Dream, like, take your armour? Is that what you said?” “I don’t know I just- hey man, I just follow the boss” (Ranboo was quite aware of at least part of what happened in exile)

We then have Tommy labeling his chasts: ‘don’t let yourself down’ and ‘keep calm and carry on’ and stored away 13 enderpearls. Also closing speach, because it was really good:

“Is it worth it Ranboo?” “What? What worth it?” “Is this [trying to fight back] even worth it?” “I’d say it is. I mean, it’s gonna be tough, it’s gonna be- I mean, I couldn’t even imagine it, but it’s definitely gonna be worth it in the end when you can come back” “In the end...” “I mean at the end of your exile” “*sigh* It’s never gonna end”

Moving on to the next stream we have: Tommy's Exile Is Coming To A Close, which just so happens to not be about Tommy’s exile ending, despite the title, but just about Tommy getting EVEN MORE depressed...

Once again, this stream only has Tommy and later Ranboo and Niki in it, and it’s not too important, so I’ll try to be quick about it. 

The stream starts, once again, with Tommy drowning. This time a bit further away from the coast.

“I don’t think I’ve got very long left. I’m not getting better. I’m not (...) and I- I can just feel it: if this- if it keeps on going how it is right now, if- if this keeps on and I keep being alone and my only friend *pause* is Dream, I don’t have very long- I don’t have very long left” (his mental state just literally plummeted after the failed beach party)

Tommy builds the Thinking Palace and the second Nether bridge to Logsteshire (out of cobblestone and lime green concrete, though he wanted to make it out of clay, how’s that for subtle symbolism?) during this stream. Also, may I point out that Tommy is canonically aware of his eyes becoming less and less blue? Also the response mail that Tommy writes is quite worrying here:

*Tommy falls into water* “Why did I just do that? I don’t think I- I don’t think I chose to dr- *sigh*” (pretty sure this is another instance of dissociation)

“How can I be with other people and still feel so alone?” (that’s because loneliness has nothing to do with how crowded a certain place is and more to do with feelings of alienation)

Either way the stream ends with Niki and Ranboo helping Tommy out with the bridge a bit and that’s it! 

“‘Please speak to Tubbo’? My time with Tubbo is come and gone. He had weeks to come and visit me. He chose- he chose against it. And that’s okay... that’s okay” (we have a second time fram indicating that it’s now been definitely over 2 weeks in their time, considering the last time we got one it had been 13 days)

I reckon the next post will be 3 streams together (since the Mexican Dream and the Drista one are... mostly non-canon and I don’t remember Quackity’s visit being too serious) and then I’ll make one on the final one and that’ll be it, I'm pretty sure...

[amispnrewatch]

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

[usemeasabadexample]

Bechloe Fic: The Kraken Has Been Unleashed

Summary: Chloe has a way with her. That’s for sure. And, as uncomfortable as it might make her to think about it in this very moment, Beca’s starting to wonder just what that really means.

Set at the beginning of Pitch Perfect 2. Kind of canon, kind of...not canon. Mostly fluff and fun and maybe some very mild angst at best. Nothing too stressful. We’ve been through enough of that!

Read on AO3

Chapter 10

Beca's alarm wakes her up way too early the next morning.

Usually, she'd snooze the clock ten times, roll out of bed and barely have time to brush her teeth before running to class. This morning is different though. It's the first day of her internship and she wants to be prepared.  Wants to look professional. And she's pretty sure professional doesn't include a messy bun with sweatpants and one of Chloe's Barden t-shirts.

So she gets up early. Showers and puts on something nice before grabbing a bowl of cereal.

“You look hot this morning DJ. What's up?” Stacie ambles into the kitchen and gestures to Beca's outfit while opening up the refrigerator.

Beca looks up from her breakfast. “Hey Stace.” She swallows the bite she just shoved into her mouth. “Nothing. Just...won't have time to change before the party later.” The stool screeches across the floor as she stands and drops her bowl into the sink. “See you tonight.” She grabs her things and rushes out before Stacie can ask anymore questions. Stacie can sniff out a lie from a mile away so the last thing she needs to do is play a game of 20 questions with the house genius.

“Can’t wait!” Stacie calls out as Beca hustles out of the door to get to her first class on time, excited for what the day holds.

-----

Jesse’s car is rounding the corner as Beca walks away from her last class so she picks up speed. She doesn’t trust him. He has a knack for embarrassing her in public places. Not maliciously. Just...dorky.  

“Hey superstar!” Jesse shouts out of the car window as he screeches to a halt. He leans over the center console to sling the passenger door open for Beca. “Damn! Work it Bec!”

Beca practically sprints the rest of the way to the car. “Oh my god.” She jumps in and slams the door, frantically trying to roll up the window. “Please shut up.”

Jesse laughs. “Is that any way to talk to your chauffeur for the day?”

“Keep it up and it’ll only get worse.” Beca side eyes him and adjusts the radio.

Jesse always plays late fifties pop songs and while Beca appreciates all types of music, she can't sit there and listen to it for extended periods. Although it does give her ideas for new mixes. Chloe always loves it when she mashes up old school songs with new stuff. Her thoughts stay trained on her best friend and she wonders what Chloe is up to. Between the rush of getting ready and trying not to freak out, there just wasn't time to see her this morning.

That's her excuse anyway.

If she's being honest, avoidance tactics may have been at work. She feels like absolute shit for keeping the internship from the redhead but she doesn't know how to broach the subject. Under normal circumstances, she knows she would be excited to tell Chloe. But there's a lot at stake for the Bellas right now and she doesn't want to add anything else to the older woman's plate. She wants Chloe to know that she's there and she's present and she's going to fight for them because letting Chloe down would be the worst feeling in the world.

Jesse's small talk forces her to dismiss the thought. They talk about classes and auditions and their last hood night party the Trebles are hosting later tonight and before she knows it, they’re pulling up to the Residual Heat Recording Studio.  

Her nerves bubble up again.

She's excited and hopeful but she still has the weight of guilt lingering in the back of her mind. Jesse reassures her that everything will be okay. He reminds her that she's worked hard for this opportunity and she deserves this shot.

She gives him a quick kiss before running away while he continues to holler out more embarrassing comments. He's definitely a nerd but he knows her well. His goofy antics have calmed her down considerably and she takes a moment to appreciate his charm before charging ahead.

-----

The afternoon is a blur.

She fucks up her name tag picture, makes a shit ton of coffee and hands out a lot of snacks. She's nobody important here but that's not the point. There's a lot to be learned. A lot to be gained. This is her shot. It's her first step into the world of music production and she's looking forward to paying her dues.

In a bizarre series of events, her boss unexpectedly storms into the office and announces they'll be producing a new Christmas album for Snoop Dogg. The Snoop Dogg. It's crazy but she stifles her excitement. She doesn't want to be labeled as some psycho newbie on her first day but relaxing isn't easy. Between draining her brain for a quick idea on how to make Snoop's new album original and the exchanges happening between this Dax kid and her boss, she’s struggling to control her reactions. Her facial expressions always give her away and the one she's wearing right now screams absolute confusion because Dax is now high-kneeing around the room and this is all really fucking weird.

Thankfully, her phone buzzes and it gives her a reason to look away from the train wreck happening in front of her. She has four messages, none of which she noticed earlier. They’re from Jesse, Amy, and Chloe respectively.

She opens Jesse's message first. It's some idiotic, cheesy 'hope everything is going well’ message and she replies by calling him a dork. It seems like her go-to word when referring to him.

She hesitates before opening Amy's messages because she never knows what the blonde is going to say. It's almost always inappropriate and usually impossible to understand, but she opens it anyway.

Shorty! Where is our toothbrush?!

Yep.

What the fuck does Amy mean by our toothbrush? Beca refuses to believe the obvious. That Amy is implying (more like directly stating) that they use the same toothbrush. That just cannot be right. And even if it is, why would it be missing?

She makes a mental note to buy a new one immediately.

Maybe two.

The second message is almost just as cringeworthy.

Your acawife was asking where you were! You're gonna be in the dingo house tonight!

The urge to roll her eyes is too strong to avoid so she rolls them around before deciding she will not be messaging Amy back. She clicks Chloe's message instead. It's the most recent one.

Trip to Copenhagen is all booked! AHH! :-P

Beca chuckles to herself. She can hear Chloe's voice singing the message in her head. It's cute but it also makes her feel bad because they haven't even discussed the issue of Worlds and Beca promised she would be there for Chloe.  Yet, here she is. At an internship that she still hasn't told Chloe about while the redhead sits at home and plans alone all afternoon. She knows she's going to have to address all of this at some point but how? This isn't really her area of expertise.

Another message comes through.

It's Chloe again.

You okay? Haven't heard from you today! :-(

Ouch.

Beca wonders why she acts like such a dick sometimes. There doesn’t seem to be any logical excuse. Especially when it comes to Chloe. She's the last person on Earth Beca wants to disappoint but it seems like it's destined to happen.

She takes a deep breath and types out a reply.

Sorry Chlo! Busy day. I'll see you at the Trebles’ later!

It's vague and lame but she can't tell the truth and she doesn’t want to outright lie to Chloe so she hits send and shoves her phone back into her pocket as her boss storms back into the room. She straightens in her seat and tries to blend in for the rest of the day.

-----

Beca exits the studio, overwhelmed and stressed, and throws her bag into the back seat of a cab before jumping in and giving the driver directions to the Bellas’ house.

She leans back and takes a deep breath that vibrates her through her lips on the way out. She knew this business would be cut-throat but wow . Today proved how messed up the music industry really is. The people are self-serving and the pace is incredibly fast and it feels like the multi-tasking skills needed to get through each minute are nearly impossible to master.

She’ll get through it though. She has to. This is her shot to get out there and start making a name for herself. This is her dream.

Plus, she’s glad to have the first day out of the way. It can only get easier from here.

Hopefully.

Possibly.

Who knows.

She shakes it off and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She hasn’t had a chance to check it since she messaged Chloe back earlier. Sure enough, there are a few new messages from her best friend. Chloe has no qualms about sending Beca multiple texts in a row. Even when Beca doesn’t answer right away, Chloe will continue babbling without worrying about whether or not she's being annoying.

If it were anyone else, Beca would probably send a string of expletives and permanently block their number. But, like everything else, Chloe is the exception. She smiles and opens their text thread.

Okay! Can't wait! XO

I hope they have the green punch!

Please bust out the cell phone dance move! I love it!!! ;-)

So, a Legacy showed up to our door tonight to audition and we accepted! She's totes amazing and you're going to love her!

I don't think we are breaking the rules bc she came to us! Loophole! :-D

BTW, Legacy means that her mom was a Bella. Her mom is THE Katherine Junk! Omg!

Beca chuckles at the enthusiasm in the messages and pictures Chloe grinning excitedly as she wrote them. A wave of anticipation hits her and she’s overwhelmed with the sudden need to get home as quickly as possible. She tells herself that she’s just anxious to get home after a long day but she knows that's a lie. Before reading those texts, she was tired. Even considered not showing up to the party but there’s a new energy flowing through her and she wills the cab driver to hurry the fuck up already.

When she finally makes it home, she throws her bag down, uses the bathroom, and races through the bushes to the Trebles’ house.

-----

Beca approaches the party, surprised at how out of control things seem already. It's still pretty early but the acapella crowd clearly came to party tonight. She wonders what type of trouble the Bellas are getting into and smiles thinking about all of their past Hood Nights. They've had some wild ones and she's sure this last one will be no different. Especially if Chloe has anything to do with it.

Chloe has a way of making Hood Nights, and most parties in general, more fun than they probably should be. Some of them, in particular, stand out for reasons that Beca isn’t prepared to think about right now. Mainly because they involve Chloe getting way too handsy.

But she already said she’s not thinking about that and scans the crowd for red hair instead.

Oddly enough, she can’t quickly spot her best friend but she spies Jesse sitting up on the deck. And because the night has her feeling light and giddy, she creeps up behind him and grabs him by the shoulders before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

His drink almost slips out of his hands and Beca mutters a quick “oh shit” before dropping down next to him. She takes a deep breath, ready to de-stress after such a crazy day, but Jesse starts asking about the internship and about Chloe and damnit.

“Oh, she’s just..she’s like, locked into the World’s right now and I’m looking for the right time. It’s-- I’ll tell her.” Beca tries to shrug it off like it’s no big deal but it dampens her mood and she excuses herself to grab a drink at the tiki hut. Why did Jesse have to bring up Chloe and the internship in the same sentence? Beca already feels like the absolute worst person in the world and the thought of Chloe having to ask Jesse for her whereabouts just makes it even worse.

This sucks.

Beca takes a huge gulp of whatever concoction is being served tonight and notes that it’s not the green punch that Chloe was hoping for but she can't dwell on it because she notices there’s a really tall girl just standing there staring at her. The girl's arms are stretched out towards Beca and she has no idea what’s about to happen.

“Hi!”

“Hi…” Beca responds hesitantly, still completely unsure.

The taller woman rambles something about being sisters and then it clicks for Beca. She realizes this is the girl- correction- the Legacy, that’s been added to their team.

“Oh yeah! Hi. Chloe texted me that we added a Legacy. I...didn't even know that was a thing.” She lifts her shoulders and gestures with her hands as she speaks. It feels odd.

The girl giggles and keeps staring at Beca so Beca just chuckles uncomfortably and takes another sip.

Then another.

And they're both just sort of standing there awkwardly.

Beca gives a tense smile and widens her eyes, which finally seems to break the other girl’s manic look.

She slaps her hands to her forehead way too hard. “Ouch! Oh my god. I’m sorry! I'm Emily. By the way. Sorry. I forgot that you didn’t know my name yet and I think the others have already started calling me Legacy so it’s totally okay if you want to call me that too I just figured you should know my real name because I totally-”

Beca reaches out and briefly touches Emily’s arm to stop her rambling. “Emily.” She pulls her hand away. “Nice to meet you.”

Emily beams and Beca really wants to get as far away from this interaction as possible.  

“We can get to know each other better later. Right now…” Beca uses her head to gesture across the yard where she can see a few of the Bellas bouncing up and down. “Let’s go catch up with everyone else.”

“Oh!” Emily nods rapidly and Beca thinks she looks like a battery operated bobble-head. “Yeah, definitely! Let’s go!”

Beca nods once before taking a shot and refilling her cup as Emily follows her into the crowd.

-----

“Beca!” Amy is the first person she encounters.

Of course.

She is immediately picked up and twirled around by the blonde. “Where have you been? Oh my god! Have you gotten taller? No! That’s not possible!”

“Amy!” Beca kicks her legs and starts to protest the manhandling but she sees a flash of red hair as she’s being spun around and the words die on her lips.

She starts laughing because jesus christ. It’s been a long day and it feels like she’s been waiting to see that red hair for way too long now. She presses on Amy’s shoulders and frantically wrestles herself out of the tight grip, almost toppling them both over in the process. Amy strings together a few choice expletives and she can hear Stacie muttering something inappropriate but it doesn't stop her.

She bounces right up to her best friend with a smile so wide she thinks her head might explode. “Chlo!”

Chloe’s head whips around and when her eyes land on Beca, her face actually does explode into a display of pure joy. She reaches out and grabs Beca, hooking her arm firmly around the shorter woman’s shoulders to drag her in close.

Chloe's laugh echoes in Beca’s ear and Beca can’t stop her smile from growing impossibly wider as she wraps her arms around the redhead’s waist as best as she can and squeezes back. The scent of fresh laundry and liquor invades her senses and it’s all a little overwhelming but it feels good and she can't help but sink further into it. She lets her body sway back and forth with Chloe's as she breathes her in. Exhilaration and borderline manic happiness taking over in the moment.

“Beca!” Chloe pulls back but keeps her arm firmly around Beca’s shoulder. “Where did you come from!? Where have you been!?” Chloe’s mouth is wide open and the way her eyes are bubbling with excitement reminds Beca of a shaken soda bottle. The look is scary powerful and Beca can’t find it in herself to formulate a response so she just laughs like crazy and brings her cup up from around Chloe's waist to clink it to redhead’s before taking another sip.

Chloe’s eyes stay trained on her as she downs the drink and it makes Beca feel like a shot of Red Bull has been directly injected into her veins. It travels through her entire body with lightning speed and everything inside of her buzzes to life.  She crushes the cup in her hand as she continues to drink, eventually cracking it. Remnants of the liquid leak down her arm but she keeps chugging. The atmosphere and the energy of the party has her head spinning and she just wants to let loose. Have fun.

She’s buying time too. Chloe’s presence is taking her to another level of excitement and she doesn’t know how to quite contain it at the moment. It feels like the cup is the only thing anchoring her to sanity at the moment.  

“Beca!” Chloe swats the crushed cup straight out of Beca’s hand, the last few drops splashing out when it hits the ground and Beca’s eyes widen but she doesn’t move. Her arm stays frozen in the air, invisible cup still in hand. Mouth still open.

And Chloe smiles.

It’s that mischievous, self-satisfied smile. The same one she used after their shower duet so many years ago.

Beca won't forget that look.  It makes her shiver but she smiles back, hand coming back down to squeeze Chloe around the middle again. "You're going to get into trouble tonight." Beca tuts, pretending to be put-off, "I can feel it."

Chloe nods enthusiastically, apparently thrilled by the notion, and moves both hands to Beca's shoulders. It brings the two of them face-to-face and she leans in to speak directly into Beca’s ear. "And you are already in trouble for getting here so late."

Beca’s chest tightens as Chloe pulls back to lock eyes but she keeps herself together. "Is that right?"

"Mhmm." Chloe is still nodding, all breezy happiness and cool confidence.  

"Well," Beca shrugs, doing her best to appear nonchalant, "what are you gonna do about it?"

Chloe drapes her arms further around Beca’s shoulders, big blinking eyes boring into Beca, “I’m going to dance with you."

Beca’s hands involuntarily squeeze the redhead tighter, fingers eventually pressing into Chloe hard enough that she’s afraid she might leave a mark. She panics momentarily, not wanting to hurt her best friend, but then Chloe’s laugh cuts through the party noise and the redhead is dragging her through a crowd of people back towards familiar faces that instantly start shouting when they see the duo approaching.

“Beca!”

“Chloe!”

“Bloe!”

“What’s up bitches?!”

“Where were you guys!?”

Beca dodges Amy’s swinging arms as Chloe continues to pull her into the circle of Bellas but all of her ducking and dodging distracts her right into Stacie’s waiting hands.

“DJ!” Stacie shouts, squishing Beca’s cheeks and before Beca can react, Stacie starts moving in with puckered lips. There’s nothing Beca can do because one of her hands is still wrapped up in Chloe’s and the other is no match for Stacie’s strength so she braces for the onslaught coming her way, eyes shut and lips sucked in.

But it never comes.

Instead of sloppy Stacie kisses, Beca feels herself being pulled out of the taller woman’s grasp. She sees a flash of red and green and her favorite smile and she lets herself collide with the person reining her in. Hands squish her cheeks again but this time, she doesn’t even consider trying to fight them off. Instead, she wraps her arms around Chloe and returns the smile, letting everything around her disappear because Chloe leans in and peppers her face with kisses that match the beat of the song and the thump of her heart.

It makes Beca feel giddy.

Goofy.

Like she’s already had too much to drink but she knows that can’t be.

And really, in the moment, Beca honestly doesn't care what the reason is.

What the feeling is.

All she knows is that Chloe is here and everything feels perfect so she grabs on tighter and pulls Chloe in closer. Squeezing and laughing like a crazy person.

"You're insane! You know that, right?!" She's borderline shouting to be heard over the music.

Chloe pulls back just long enough to look directly at Beca. Eyes dancing and hands squeezing Beca's shoulders tightly. She mutters a quick, "mhmm" and leans in again, bright blue eyes crossing briefly as they come nose-to-nose.

It makes Beca chuckle.

"I know." Chloe mumbles the words and kisses the tip of Beca's nose.

Beca takes a deep breath and lets the tingling feeling take over as the beat drops and she falls into step with Chloe.

[musicalmukebox]

Let’s Get (Back) Together | l.h. (18)

Ctto of the gif above!!

AU: Parent Trap Dad!Luke

Summary: A strong love which led to a strong marriage and twin daughters. Yet in the end, it didn’t turn out so well. You strongly refuse to encounter him ever again. But what happens when both of you coincidentally send your twin daughters to the same summer camp in Florida after 10 years?

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: angst, mentions of sexual actions, mentions of infidelity, fighting, swearing, some fluff if you squint really hard

Long A/N: Are you shocked? Because same. So yes, I was gone for a loooong time and the reasons behind it were one, I got burnt out with ideas. two, I dealt with a lot of stress academically and mentally bec of issues with some family and friends. last, I had recently got an internship that required my full attention. But anyway, I am back!! If it weren’t for that free and exclusive show of 5sos last week, I would not have gotten inspired to pick up where we last left off Luke, (Y/N) and the twins. I love the boys so much and seeing them up close is literally a dream! If you think it’s impossible, it isn’t because I waited 6 years for a moment like that! Without further ado, here’s part 18!

I don’t own Parent Trap and its ideas. It’s only used as inspiration.

Masterlist!! → other parts are there!!

Main Series Playlist

Feedback/Constructive Criticism/Questions/Others? Here.

-

2024, Los Angeles

“I’m over this shit!” You screeched, throwing the tabloids at him you found upon grocery shopping. He was the main headline in the majority of them, where many mystery girls are always featured. You noticed that they were all younger and slimmer, not like how you ever were. This wasn’t the first time you’ve fought over tabloids these past months, and it drains and sickens you both out. 

Spicy! Luke Hemmings and 22 year old girl spotted outside singer’s studio 

Woah there! Australian singer from 5sos acting all smooth with new upcoming artist in Café Sweetener 

Exclusive! Luke Hemmings and ex Arzaylea found dancing in the same bar?!?! 

Luke took hold of the last tabloid mentioning the ex who shall not be mentioned, which was published by Perez Hilton. He’s always had a heavy dislike towards the band and told you already beforehand that. But with the influx of other material you attacked with, he’s frustrated how you were still gullible to bother with him in your marriage. 

“Fucking hell (Y/N), you know they aren’t true!” He threw it on the floor, not startling you one bit. 

“Explain yourself then, yeah? A new girl every fucking week.” With work and a recent injury in your arm from stunts, you were bombarded with stress. This rumor started out a few months ago, and you obviously shrugged it off because of outlets like starting unnecessary drama. Besides, your faith in your husband overcame it. But now it kept crawling back up, and you were sick of it. Was he being unfaithful? Is Luke really messing with you this time? 

“Alright then.” He clenched his jaw and stood upright in front of you from the couch. You had your arms crossed, and he mimicked you. “The girl from the first article is a crazy fan who I shooed off respectfully, but she wasn’t budging. The second article, yeah she was a new artist, but she is also the youngest daughter of Jack Barakat and sought me as one of her mentors in music. Last, she threw herself at me while I was getting a drink out of nowhere!” 

“The last article looks way too real to be fake! You’re lying!” You started feeling insecure, but yes, the main cover for the tabloid looked way too real to be a fake. For once, you were beginning to consider that Perez might be correct. You can’t stand that idea! “Also you’ve been distant lately too, and I’m not even sure if it’s because of work!” 

As for Luke, how dare you indirectly accuse him of infidelity he thought? Unaware of you, he’s also up to date with issues about you and one of your castmates. He never approached it because he trusts you. Though based on how the angles were fixated, it looks too real and affectionate. He’s bottled it for too long because he doesn’t know what’s real. 

“Oh babe, don’t take you’re the only one who’s been questioning that.” He hissed as he brings out his phone. Clicking on the tab, he exposed those articles to you in your face. 

Feeling Cozy?? Actress (Y/N) (Y/L/N)-Hemmings softens up to co-star, Ross Lynch on his lap 

For Film Reasons or Not?! (Y/N) (Y/L/N) on her knees for BTS idol V 

The shock in that memory was hard to forget. You were relaxing and watching some of your other co-stars jump out of a flaming car. As the car exploded, you were taken aback and Ross caught you so you wouldn’t fall. It was a private filming, so you couldn’t understand how and why that was on the main cover. “Tell me about these ones then, babe since you were confident in accusing me with the same shit.” 

And you did bluntly. “Ross caught me when the exploding car scene happened. Who wouldn’t be shook? Then for Taehyung as I prefer to call him, he accidentally dropped something while we were filming and I was nearer so I just crawled down to get it!” 

He wasn’t so convinced, so he kept retaliating. ”Ross seemed way too handsy and you know he can be a flirt! As for V, the way he viewed you on the floor made me think he had other ideas.” 

“Unless you want me to fall and get a concussion, be my guest! Also, Taehyung’s face is really like that?! The camera person there just didn’t capture the moment he got the phone and he gave a big smile after and gave his thanks!” You gave your last words, your last bits of energy almost empty. How is he so secretive now and throwing all these accusations? Of all days, why now? You just had to voice out before he gets anything else out his dumb mouth. “Nowadays, it’s like every guy I get associated with my job gets you worked up all the time!” 

Luke huffed mockingly, thinking how faulty that statement was on your behalf. “Didn’t you just lash out on me with all these different girls awhile ago? Quite the hypocrite.” 

As your anger jolts up, you knew you would blow up and the entire house would go on an entire frenzy. You didn’t want to cause any stress to the other people living here, thinking about your daughters who are definitely sleeping right now, you needed space to wrap your mind on this stupid argument. “Well, whatever then. I can’t fucking stand you right now. I need air.”

Luke’s pride was still held so high. He knew he won the argument, but you just didn’t want to admit it and he badly wanted to hear you say it. Honestly, what a dickhead move. “Pathetic, you know I’m right.”

And that line was the final straw, fuck being considerate for once and you just blew up. “And so what if you are? Today was exhausting, and I really can’t think straight because of all the work I did today for our family! Can you not be a fucking bitch?!”

“I’m the bitch?! You accused me first of being unfaithful based on stupid articles from gossip magazines! I thought we got past through that phase in our relationship where tabloids cannot mess with us anymore!”

“Well sometimes, things change! We have been fighting non-stop lately, and I really have no idea if you’re worth the trust anymore!”

“If I’m not worth the trust anymore, then why are we still together when we can always go our separate ways forever?!” He growled, not even blinking one bit. 

You gasped for a moment, not wanting to comprehend what he just implied. Luke didn’t expect to go overboard with a statement like that, but before he could even take it back, wild vocal cries from upstairs blasted around your home. Did you guys really go all in and argue that loudly to disturb the peace? 

Your motherly instincts kicked in quickly, not even excusing yourself from your husband and raced the stairs to your twins’ bedroom. Thankfully, the doors were already opened, so you quietly approached their cribs, picking up Stella first since she was making the most noise as Rebecca was sniffling along but she might break into a fit soon. 

“Oh no, little bub.” You laid her on your shoulder, cradling her up and down so she would calm down. Rubbing her tiny back too, she burped a little bit. “I’m sorry if I woke you up. Your daddy got into Mommy’s nerves today.” 

Now humming some random song you can think of to comfort her more, echoing footsteps from behind entered the room and from your side view, this person took hold of the other twin who was now beginning to doze off instead. You were still facing the opposite direction, not wanting to deal with his shit for the time being and focus on your fragile infant. But maybe you were just as fragile as her now.

“Hey, poppet.” Luke lifts up the sniffling baby, cradling her side to side for a change. She latched on to her father’s index faster than ever, not bothering to let go anytime soon. It’s a trait that she always does to anyone who carries her, making it more enjoyable to interact with her. But with what happened, Luke wasn’t pleased to make her feel discomfort. “I know you heard shouting, and I’m sorry about that and making it ruin your sleep. Daddy will fix everything so you won’t be disturbed again.”

Just as you finished your humming, Stella was completed fast asleep again as you heard her soft cries turned into snores. She might’ve drooled a bit on your bare shoulder, but it doesn’t matter. Giving a kiss on her forehead, you placed her back in your arms then laid her curled up body in the crib. One more look of her peaceful state and you seek to come after Rebecca, but she was already handled by her father by the window. This is when you make your exit and head to the kitchen for water since your throat grew dry after intense arguing and soft mumbling.

Sipping continuously, your mind is still nervously trying to wrap around what Luke spat at you awhile ago. Did he really mean what he said, that it’s best to be separate since the two of you together have been driving you both insane? Because if that was the case, that would mean-

“(Y/N).”

Your mind shifts back to your surroundings, turning around to find a frantic Luke leaning by the countertop. His hair more disheveled because of the stress, looking more tired than ever. Physically and emotionally. “What I said-”

“Did you really mean what you said?” You cut to the chase, not raising your tone anymore. “Did you actually consider that option?”

“I was mad and at the spur of the moment. I would never-”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Confronting him like this was very heavy, but he kept dodging. Even thinking of that idea gutted you, but you needed confirmation. “Have you considered getting a divorce with me?” 

He was silent because he can’t lie about that question. After being in constant quarrels for months, it messed with his work ethic and mental state too. But because he loved you so much and his daughters, he let it pass because you and him always conquered every test the world handed the two of you. Reading his actions, he was contemplating how to lay down the truth based on the way he scrunched his eyebrows and how his eyes couldn’t even look at you. Shockingly enough, you don’t blame him. Because you have thought about this option too. You were not as happy as before, having lost motivation to do what you love without any issues to encounter when you come home. What started as mini arguments on misunderstandings turned into big fights with no one winning. Almost every morning, there were no longer the sweet breakfasts and greetings because of the stress from nights before resurfaces. Ignorance in the household became common, except when it comes to your daughters. 

Still not answering, you beat him to it. “Because I actually have.”

“You’re lying,” Luke says with disbelief, gripping on the counter. “Please, let’s not talk about this.” 

“Luke, have you not noticed that we aren’t happy anymore? We fake everything to our family, friends, and everyone else. After seeing our daughters and how they reacted to us from our fighting, this doesn’t seem healthy to anyone. Also, the longest period we’ve ever spoken is right now. Because once we argue, it’s over for the night, and it became a pattern for months. Didn’t we lose our motivation to work too? Ash has been on your ass for not creating good lyrics while I’ve been more prone to injuries when I do stunts because we aren’t thinking straight.”

He hates that your eyes begin to water, the way you frustratingly brush your hair back. He hated that he hurt you and would do anything to make things better. Anything. “But (Y/N), I love you.”

You love him too so much, shit. But your well-beings together in the same area is enough to edge off a building. You can’t give him anymore hurt to him, now somehow, you’re holding him back with his music. “You and I need space. This right now and every day just distances us.” 

“We can still work this out, please.” He begs, frightened. 

“Luke, you thought about this too. We need to take care of ourselves.” Your heart pities the man you love, but it’s all too much for your plate now. 

“But who’ll take care of our daughters?” Oh yes, the million-dollar question. This is a tricky one, and you couldn’t bare handle this one. But at least this one can still be discussed in the days to come. 

“We’ll find a way to sort this through.” Luke wanted to defend his love for you and everything in it. But as he realizes that you were indeed correct of the status of your relationship, it was a stab in his heart. Add in his daughters in the equation, and he can be left for dead. There’s no way he’ll let them witness a toxic parental relationship, and that was his final wish. He truly cares for you, and if it meant this option, so be it. If happiness for you again meant this, he’ll accept it. 

“Do you know a lawyer who can handle this?” That painful answer escapes his lips, and how badly he wanted to take it back. He dreaded this outcome with you, never even thought it would happen. 

You heavily despised that he agreed to it because he knew how stubborn you can be to conclude things. But then again, the longer you stay together just worsen things especially now that you have kids. “I’ll ask Gina tomorrow about that. Goodnight, Luke.” 

Swiftly exiting the kitchen with heavy tension, you wiped all the tears on the hem of your shirt. You needed to stay strong some way, somehow. But chances are you’ll be crying yourself to sleep tonight because it’s happening and for the best, as you believe it to be. 

With Luke left with his thoughts, he cannot believe he agreed to it. He doesn’t cry much to express sadness, but the fact that he’s losing you is more than enough to crack him. He’s convinced this is all a dream, then he’ll wake up to you in his arms with the assurance that everything will be okay. But unluckily, it is all an awake occurrence. 

“Goodnight, (Y/N). Please stay.”

- - -

2034, Sydney

“Shit.”

Luke grumbles, still tired from his sleep. The culprit of his awakening would be this pounding headache that was bothersome. Rubbing his dry eyes, he unexpectedly felt a feather-like brush his arm. It startled him, rising up from his bed to see what that was.

Actually, who she was.

Nowadays, he stays in the middle of the bed to sleep, but for the first time in a long time, he stayed on the left side. Because the right side was always reserved for ...

“(Y/N).” 

You were still peacefully asleep, sleeping on your side as you favored. Your entire body was covered with the duvet, surely bare naked under because he was too. Out of unconscious instinct, he grazed a finger on your cheeks. It’s a good thing you were a deep sleeper so you wouldn’t flinch. He was hit like a bus when the memories of last night’s drunk escapade replayed in his mind, getting him to recall every gasp, position, and touch. Drunk him is more courageous, but also a risky one too. 

The purple patches on your neck and your lower jaw were a standout. If you were still married, he’d be proud, but because you aren’t, things just got more complicated. 

What’s the next step? 

He heard a short grunt from you when he brushed a few strands of hair out your face, swiping his hand away. Crap, how was he to handle this? But luckily, he was spared because you continued your slumber and lied your body down from your side. Now, he really had to stop his overthinking. Besides, it’s Sunday, and he’s in charge of breakfast. Quickly, he scurried his cabinet for a fresh set of clothes before quietly exiting his bedroom. The more he stayed, the more his mind will bombard him with questions. Sadly, leaving the room was a lose-lose situation. 

He still had you in his mind.

Being the only one awake in the kitchen made it worse. No noise to counteract those thoughts, especially since it was only 8 am. Rebecca’s usually up by 8:30, so it would be a silent 30 minutes. Sure, the sizzling of the pan cooking bacon and pancakes was there, but it was too soft. 

Might as well face them, Luke.

Last night has become an emotional awakening. He missed this kind of romance, where neither held back nor felt insecure. But then, it happened when you were intoxicated. What then? He felt a tinge of awkwardness, but also happiness. But again, it didn’t work out the first time, so what will happen the second time around? With your differences, things may deteriorate much worse, and who knows, it’ll be to the point of hatred and not allowing the girls to see each other. You being with him will be chaotic. 

But to be with you, you could start from scratch and rebuild up that love you had. He wants it to be stronger than ever, especially now your emotional maturity has grown. Once he finished placing the food in their plates and to the table, he is in need of a distraction. For sure, not involving his e-cigarette because he’s trying to preserve his health. For now. 

The first thing that he saw was his grand piano. His absolute gem, it has been too long since he last played. Maybe it can wake up you guys but in a great way. After all, you are a musical family. Besides, it’s a calming mechanism. Settling on the black bench, he gently lifts the black wooden cover so it wouldn’t creak. The white and black keys were clean yet dusty due to lack of usage, but it didn’t really bother him. Cracking his knuckles, he prepared his fingers on the necessary keys. There was a specific song that perfectly described his uncertainty, and so he pressed down on the keys and began to play along.

Meanwhile upstairs, the rustling of the leaves from outside his bedroom window put your sleeping patterns to a close. Slowly widening your eyelids open, you woke up at an unfamiliar bedroom, an empty bedside too. Not just this, the duvet felt much warmer than usual. Looking under it, you were met with the view of your nudity. 

There, a recap of last night clouded your mind.

His lips on yours, then down your neck, while his cock thrusted in and out of you while you continuously screamed his name from your wet lips. It was already blaring, but he did say the room was soundproof. Especially when he had one hand on your neck while the other linked with yours in the bed.

Wonderful? Truly. 

It sucked that he wasn’t beside you any longer, for aftercare or something that brings out your emotional softness. Last night was a brief occurrence that explained a lot. Maybe all that is left is to talk things out. Here, you were certain and happy. Quick to have sex already, but nonetheless. 

As comfy as the bed was, luring you to lay back and sleep in more, the muffled sounds of the piano roamed the room from the slightly ajar door. Interested, it hyped you enough to get up from the duvet and go downstairs, except that you were naked for starters. Since it wasn’t your room, it was an excuse to crash his closet and find any random shirt you like. Just like you used to enjoy. Also, upon seeing those marks from a mirror, there wasn’t much care you gave and just let them be. Tiptoeing down the stairs, you didn’t want to disrupt his peacefulness, and listening quietly wasn’t too bad either. Creeping on his playing or singing was never something you’d pass. 

Speaking of singing, his voice was still angelic as ever as it smoothens out along with the song. It was all too familiar, so you leaned sidewards on the stairs and listened. 

Are we better off alone, than lying to ourselves

There was angst in its message. You have heard it before but its meaning was questionable in the given situation you were in. You made sure not to overthink it too much because his voice is melodic and enchanting. With the final chords and lyrics portrayed, Luke felt a lot more sure with his thoughts. You are too delicate. If he makes a move again, it might not end well. He cannot risk that, and if he really loved you, he will let you go. Last night was almost like his goodbye to your romance. As he wanted, he wants you to be happy. 

For you, you were slowly falling back in love with him already by the simple things he does after. His back muscles flexed, showing those evident scratch marks you did, oops. His loud sighing, showing his passion for his craft. His legs also were tangled from the bottom. You were into deep for him, and you wanted him to know that you were amidst his area. Hell, you would’ve run to him and hug from behind. Maybe peck kisses on his cheeks. 

“That was amazing.” 

Shook. Luke was taken aback by your morning yet sweet voice, switching his view for the piano to the back. There you were, majestically dressed in one of his tees leaning against the walk with a genuine smile. Your silver dyed hair was still rugged in a ponytail, exposing those marks he gave which he completely forgot giving.

“Fuck, I did that?” He spoke, pointing on the crook of your neck with a crooked grin. You blushed heavily, not moving an inch to cover it up. His marks were nothing to ashamed of, especially now. You just wanted to be his again. 

“Oh, yeah. Forgot how dominant you could get, and you still have that side. Stronger than ever.” You praised, taking the last stair down. You can’t waste any more time. 

“So, last night..”

To you, it was never over. Everything just needed to be fixed with time so you can both mature emotionally.

It’s so early in the day and you were here looking like a goddamn killer queen. That just made it harder. But no, he cannot. When he sees how close you were to get to him from his seated position, it’s his chance to stop it. Because if not, his denials won’t be possible. God, he’s desiring you so much but it would be so unhealthy. 

He abruptly got up, almost hitting the keys of his piano. He was getting too overwhelmed. You, on the other hand, were about to finish that statement but surprised at his action. This was his last chance, and he unhesitatingly took it. 

“Last night was a mistake.” 

What. 

Unexpectedly completing your statement, you couldn’t believe his words. Internally, you were begging that he took it back, saying he was joking. You wanted him to crack a smile, saying that things could get better. But he didn’t.

The rebuilt happiness of your heart was deteriorating. He was hurt too saying that, but for him, it was what is best if you want this parental relationship to work. So he was actually pushing you away this time, and maybe for good. Your body still stood there speechless while your mind was wandering off and praying that he changes mind or his words. But he wasn’t done talking yet.

“Last night, we were drunk and sad. I’m sorry I took advantage of you like that.” 

You wished it was a lie. Though he gave a frown, giving you the complete opposite. Now, you had to reply, and it cannot be the truth. As things got complicated, adding yours will make things worse. 

“O-Oh, it’s fine. Sex is sex, right?” 

Not this one. 

He noticed a stutter and how your face scrunched up. It hurt how you were actually “agreeing” with him, but it has to be done. 

“Yeah, it is. - Now,” Luke tries to move on from the hard topic into a smoother one to get rid of tension, even though he resulted in the complication of your relationship. You were having a hard time to contain your emotions. Sure, it wasn’t the first time in the rodeo, but this has the most painful aftermath. Worse than cheating is this rejection. 

“Breakfast? I made cooked something since Felicia came home a little late with a certain secretary.” 

“Did you mean mine?” You swayed over to where his arms lead you, which was the dining room. Taking a seat on the opposite side of Luke’s, you quickly poked at a pancake and put some butter and syrup like you were a little girl again. With heartbreak, there’s always food as an instant comfort. 

“Yeah, I’ve actually called it the day I met her. She’s different from the boys and a few girls she’s seen.” He speaks highly of Gina, a hype of pride you gain from it. 

“Huh, I thought the exact same way. Don’t tell them I told you this, but I caught them making out when I came home from strolling Sydney and you were still in the beach.” Sharing embarrassing stories was another distracting mechanism of yours, though you had no shame in bringing this up. Luke choked on his coffee slightly before laughing a fit. 

“Oh shit! I’m guessing you were scarred?” He says, unbothered. It was a slap how he started treating things like it was back to normal, but if it is how you guys can cooperate, then so be it. 

Perhaps him pushing away this time is your karma for having pushed him away first all those years ago. 

“Oh my god, yeah. I instantly shielded my eyes when I got home! - But hey, at least they’re happy, you know?”

“Yeah, who would have known? My nanny, your secretary?” He banters from the other side as he eats. 

Not so soon after, a chorus of cheery “good mornings” bounced the walls. It was none other than the girls. They already looked refreshed, having showered and dressed in better clothing that isn’t pajamas. How good for them, and how you envied them.

“Morning, girls.” You greeted back, receiving good morning kisses from them as the both of them sat beside you, where Stella was to your left, Rebecca on your right, then Luke across you. He smiled at his daughters’ entrance, passing them the food he cooked. 

“Ah, dad’s cooking has gotten better!” Rebecca compliments, pouring more syrup on her pancakes. 

“Believe it or not, but when we were younger, he and I almost burned down the house when we tried to cook.” You shared a bit of your past, catching him get embarrassed at the remembrance. Never have you shared much to Stella and most especially to Rebecca, so it’s a start. Maybe with this, you can make him change his mind. 

Just maybe.

“Oh my!” Stella burst out laughing, picturing how horrific that must have been. 

“Wow, what character development dad’s had.” Rebecca voiced out, silently applauding her father, who rolled his eyes. 

“Because of that, we hired a butler and a housekeeper, who became a nanny.” He played along.

In sync, two young women, who looked like they just woke up by the stretch their arms out and rub their eyes joined the scene. 

“Oh look, one of them is here.” Luke added on, directing his attention to the ginger-haired woman in her pajamas. “Good morning, Felicia. - Good morning, Gina.”

“Morning, boss.” Felicia says, walking towards the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of coffee. 

“Hey, Gina.” You say to your sleepy secretary, who was sat at the high chair at the island.

“Hi, Miss (Y/N).” She replied, then receives a cup of coffee from Felicia out of the blue before she sits beside her. 

Stella noticed how sleepy Gina is, which is contrasting to her usual hyper self in the morning. She wasn’t so used to it. “Hey Gina, you look hammered.” 

“Ah, I just did a lot of things yesterday and I had a hard time sleeping. Nothing serious, really.”

“Or someone.” Luke mumbled too loudly, getting you to shout “Hey! Shh.”

Felicia caught onto it and teased back. “I’m not the only one who got frisky, boss.” 

Holy, did she...

“Dad, what does she mean by that?” Rebecca asks naively, curious by such comebacks.

You were stuck in the middle, but the way he was out of words to console her with, you stepped in. “Oh, they’re just playing around, poppet. Don’t worry about it.” 

Thank goodness you saved him from answering that, he thought. It was too soon to talk about it. It looked as if you were not affected prior, which was somehow reassuring to him. But he would not deny that it stung to confront everything like that. You, on the other hand, were in pained, but what can you do? Karma came and doing her job. And you freely allowed it.

-

“Call me whenever you want to, regardless of the time difference, alright? Tell me about your days and about anything, okay?” He reminds her, as he was knelt to her height and rubbing her jacket covered back. Stella kept nodding to her father, her frowns hurting to his ego. Letting you go meant letting her go, his other half. A bi-continental relationship is bound to be hard, and it’s not typical for an eleven-year-old. 

“I will, dad. Visit LA soon, okay?” 

“I will, bub.” He kisses her forehead and brings her in for a tight hug, one that should be worthwhile. “Take care of yourself and your mom, alright? She needs you. - I’ll miss you, Stella.” 

“Okay, dad. I’m gonna miss you so much too.” As their intimate moment reached its end, you were still bidding your goodbye to your youngest twin, which was as similar to being ripped open. She tried her best not tear up at the slightest, but who wouldn’t? You’re her mother, after all. You never wanted her to think that she was less loved than her sister all these years. Rebecca was hugging you with all this love she had saved for you, where there was sadness that went along with it because you were leaving again. 

“I don’t want you to go.” She begs against your chest, her tears finally spilling down as time gets to her faster. You hid it all in, the sadness and rejection. It’s saved for another time. All you wanted was to reassure her no matter what happens. 

“I don’t want to either, poppet.” Her quiet whimpers stung like alcohol pressing on a wound, just like the time you left her all those years ago as a baby. The only difference now is that she knew why she felt that way. Time felt slower to truly cherish it, but time was moving much faster than you both realized. It was until Gina’s hand on your shoulder that disconnected this maternal bond, with a knowing look. Her eyes were just as sad as yours to break it, but it was time to shift back to reality. The one that you wished never lived in. “Miss (Y/N), we must go.” 

Melancholy was her tone before she exited the front door and to the Uber door that she booked, where a glum Felicia was bidding her goodbyes. “Message me when you land, okay?” Felicia asked with urgency, wiping some growing tears under Gina’s eyelids. 

“I wish it wasn’t like this.” Gina, still composed, pulled in Felicia by the waist for a hug. 

“I know, babe. I know.” 

Back to you and Rebecca, she hasn’t let go still even when Gina tapped you. She was afraid of that separation anxiety hitting back in only when she learned to suppress it after knowing the real truth about your past relationship. This time, it will be stronger. As the brave girl that she is, she unlinked her arms around you to take in another look at her beautiful mother. Remembering that ripped picture from camp, she studied your features and how they never really changed over time. She believes that you and Luke were showered numerously in some sort of fountain of youth, and the fact that you were the real deal and not just a tangible photo anymore, how delicate you were to her. All that maternal connection that she’s been wishing and missing out on for so long was granted by the heavens even if it was limited. “Mom, I-I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much, Rebecca.” It would be a lie to say that this moment did not sting like a bitch. Your words comforted Rebecca enough to build her strength to lessen her grip on you, slowly letting go of your embrace. How mature she has grown in these past weeks, and how you have to find a way to not miss out on anything with her. “Poppet, talk to me whenever you can alright? I want to know how you are and everything else.” 

Grazing her cheek, she topped her hand on yours. Half dry and wet it is, she nodded repeatedly. “I-I will. I promise“

“Good girl. You were raised well.” Leaving a kiss on her forehead, there behind her was a much taller and broad figure whom you can’t ever ignore. Even with what happened, acting civil is a must. For the girls. Stella and Rebecca, from your peripheral view, didn’t say a word as they faced each other, a perfect reflection. Everything was covered in a hug. Perhaps everything they wanted to say has been said, and that last contact for now is the only thing to seal everything. 

There you were, facing him one last time. He can read the pain that he caused, but he can’t risk it. But with you, you already are on the brink of letting him go forever. That rejection and loss of hope took a toll on your heart, and you can’t force him to change after what he went through and moreover, you can’t force him to love you again. 

“Well.” He began, fumbling on his jean pockets and not leaving his eyes on you. He wanted to absorb this beauty before you’re gone, focusing on every detail like a painting. “Here we are.” 

The way he looks at you just makes your heart ache more, you couldn’t even look straight with the urge to cry. “Luke, I-“ 

“Take care of yourself, okay?” You will try. 

“I will, you too alright?” You say bluntly. He wasn’t convinced, and he added on. 

“Come visit when you can too please.” If he can’t have you, at least seeing each other from time to time is better, right? 

“I-I need space first, and I got a lot of work when I get back. I’ll make Stella visit during her break.” That was a half-lie, but you were just too hurt to answer properly. Now, you don’t want to see him until you have healed fully. He has ruined you, but all he can do is nod. 

“I’ll be looking forward to that.” Moments of silence tensed your conversation, taking in another view of the lovely man in front of you. Shit, this is going to be hard, but you believe in yourself. You did a decade, you can handle more. Luke wished there was more time to spend with the family, but life is equally unfair to everyone. 

“Miss (Y/N).” Gina announced one last time, switching to her professional self again. Turning to your shoulder, your daughters were already waiting by the car door with Felicia on the other side with Gina. Watching you both so heartbroken yet reluctant was painful. But they are not in a position to intervene. 

“Well,” Luke picked up the conversation that was almost dying. “You don’t wanna miss your flight, do you?” 

“Yeah, sure can’t.” It’s like deja-vu made an appearance. Except when he brushed his lips to your cheek and pecked it, you froze and your heart was racing again. 

“Be careful.” That can mean anything, but you opt not to overthink anymore. Putting yourself back together, you nodded and abruptly disconnected yourself from his presence. You needed to breathe, intaking deep ones on the way to the car and finally meeting up at the car per Gina’s request. She was already inside, and so was Stella who wore her earphones to drift away from her heavy surroundings with lord knows what music the kids are listening to today. By the other car door open, there Rebecca was to bid goodbye for a while. Giving her one last hug and a peck on her cheek, she helped you settle inside the car and closed the door for you. 

As much as you would want to wave goodbye like on any trip you go to, this was a hard pass. Besides, you know it wouldn’t be the last time to see Rebecca. The car quickly has the engine going, and the Uber driver vacates from the front yard of the house. Not looking back, you slouched on your chair and like your daughter, put your earphones to disconnect. Just let the music be the one to soothe your state.

Fast forward, there were no paps at the airport because no one knew about your revised departure details. It was a lot more peaceful and fast, though people did notice you and only gave you small waves because they respect your privacy. Thank god for those kinds of people, really. 

Finally, you settled on your airplane seat, first-class because you can. Stella was on her phone, texting whom you assume is her twin. But unknown to you, it was actually Alex. She kept a pout the whole time, dreading the flight but there’s no turning back. The cabin crew then played and demonstrated the safety rules of this flight. Instructing that your phones must be on airplane mode at this time, your fingers curling on your cellphone meant to tap on the settings application in order to activate the airplane mode as requested by the pilot. But your thumb slipped for the smoothness of the screen because you were ready to drift to sleep your feelings away, clicking on the call button. 

Dumb move at first, but when it opened, one option caught your attention before you could exit. Voicemail. You have inactivated it years ago because most business calls would be first forwarded to Gina, though there was another reason why you did it. There laid all those unsaid voice messages from the decade you divorced Luke, happy and sad. Since you never contacted in that period because of the pain and dislike, that was like an outlet that served as his proxy. It felt so wrong, but mostly everything you said were updates on Stella growing up and nothing more. 

At this point, you needed to move on with your life. These voicemails were secrets, so it’s best to be transparent with him and show that you’ve always cared for them from afar. Gathering your courage, you sent them all before tapping into airplane mode. This weight in your chest lessened a bit, and it just may be a great start. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned off the Fasten Seat Belt sign, and you may now move around the cabin. However we always recommend to keep your seat belt fastened while you’re seated. In a few moments, the flight attendants will be passing around the cabin to offer you hot or cold drinks, as well as a light meal. Alcoholic drinks are also available at a nominal charge/with our compliments. Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight. Thank you.”

- - -

Taglist: @queen-taryn​ @i-oop @bookofmurder9201 @pxinkxllers @goldenbbean @trunichole15 @luciferatlantic @oofitsmeadam  @thecurlsofgod​ @tommosgirl06​ @connoisseuroffineart​ @butterfly-dearest​ @excuseme-uuummm​ @punkpenguin2019​ @bruhh-whateven​ @bells3333​ @roseyblushess​ @cloudy5sosx​ @cutiepiecallum​

[sarah-bae-maas]

Reign of Queens Chapter One

A new fan fiction yay!! Been a while since I did something chaptered, and I’m actually excited by this! I hope you all like it, and have happy holidays and a good new year. 

When Aelin fell through worlds, she never dreamt that she would make it to Erilea alive. Half of her dream became a reality, she was alive, but she certainly wasn’t in Erilea. With foes at every corner and a powerful family ready to cull her for invading the body of a loved one, she has no choice but to play the games of the Night Court until she can figure out how to return home, hopefully without dragging anyone with her. 

An AU! where Aelin fell into Prythian by mistake. 

Find my masterlist here, and this on Ao3 here (not going to lie, the formatting will be much better on Ao3)

***

As she fell, she saw the worlds around her like a flitter in the distance. But somehow, she was still in everyone, could taste the air, smell the briny sees and smoke, but she could never touch.

And then that male, the winged one with the pregnant wife had raised his hand and slowed her.

And when she fell, she did not fall into her world.

_____

Aelin gasped with a force to shatter the world. Her body felt like she’d been hit by a wyvern, and she felt the cool ground underneath her. She was lying down, or more like she’d smashed into the earth, and she slowly raised each limb to make sure they were still there and functioning. No pain, but the ache in her made her feel like she’d been regurgitated by a dragon.

She sat up, clutching her head.

And that’s when she noticed.

Her hand was callused but delicate, paler than she had ever seen it. She was wearing a dress made of a material so fine she needn’t question the wealth of the person wearing it. Her legs were long, waist thinner than it had ever been with narrow hips. Her legs went for days, and her breasts swelled beneath a corset. She grasped at a piece of her hair, crying out in shock at the golden brown.

She stood up quickly, taking in her surroundings. She was in a garden, the flowers surrounding her just beginning to bloom. The smell of them poisoned the air, so strong she felt like she was suffocating. She had been lying on a cobblestone path next to a bird bath, and in the distance she could see a manor interrupting the turn of the sun. Dusk was upon them. Mountains were in the distance, and the bright lights of a colourful city curved along the coastline.

Aelin tenderly walked to the bird bath, leaning over the water and using the fledging light to see herself.

She was beautiful, her cheeks angular and high and her nose straight. Her eyes were a burning grey, a colour Aelin was sure would be blue in the sun. Her ears were pointed – fae then, at least she was still a fae – and her body seemed unscarred and cared for.

Aelin was not in her body, and she highly doubted she was in Erilea at all.

The thought made her feel sick. What of Rowan? Was she still alive in Terrasen, or had her soul invaded this body and left her old one to rot? Her stomach fluttered, what in the rutting hell was she going to do. And what on earth had happened, had gone wrong, for her to smooth her hands down a body as unfamiliar as the land she was in?

She evaluated where she was again. Soon it would be night, and it would be cold. She needed warmer clothes than the ones she was wearing now. She could either go into that city and steal from the locals, or she could hedge a bet that the house she woke in front of belonged to the fae she had invaded.

She followed the path that led to the back door. The door opened – unlocked – and she was impressed with what she saw. Rich carpet laid out before her, the walls all painted in vivacious colours. The hallway in front of her was long, many rooms coming off each side with a grand staircase at the end. Aelin listened carefully, and there was no sign of anyone else in the house. Still, she would have to be careful and watch from the windows in case anyone approached. Unfortunately, if the portraits on the walls were anything to go by, this fae had a large family.  One Aelin would definitely need to avoid.

She opened all the doors, most of them guest rooms or rooms dedicated to some art form, so she went upstairs. It was much more open up here, a sprawling kitchen, dining and lounge room all combined into one massive space. She went through the next door she saw and grinned. This was clearly the master. She dove in, opening closets and pulling out clothes. She kicked off the slippers she was wearing and changed from the dress into pants and a blouse. At the bottom of the closet she saw boots. She pulled them on, impressed by their quality. Whoever this fae was, she had impeccable taste. She also had a stash of gold hidden in her draw, and Aelin happily plucked that up to and shoved it into her pocket. With a sigh of relief, she could read the titles on the shelf in the room. She didn’t recognize them, but with names like The Passion of Summer Nights, Aelin had no doubt they were to her taste. It was just a relief to know she could speak the damn language of wherever she was. That would make getting back to Rowan easier.

The windows were clear. No one was coming up the paths, and Aelin took that as a sign to get the hell out of this manor. She walked down the hallway, a smile on her face from her good fortune, but stopped when she heard a creak in the floor behind her.

“Nes? Where are you going?”

Cassian

Aelin froze, at the male voice behind her and the harsh woman’s voice that cleaved through her mind like a thought.

She heard his footsteps as he approached her and tensed as he placed his hands on her waist. How? No one came up the path, no one opened the doors downstairs. How could he have snuck up on her?

“Nesta, are you okay?” He had felt her tense and taken his hands away. “Is today a bad day?”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded, still not turning to look at him. This male clearly knew who she was, intimately from the way he had put his hands on her.

“Okay, not a problem.” She could feel his breath on her neck, and it made her sweat under the jacket she was wearing from nerves. She didn’t often find herself in a position like this. “Would you like your sisters? Emerie? If the house is too much today, we can go to Illyria.”

Aelin tried to keep her breathing steady. She glanced at the window in front of her and tried not to gasp at what she saw in its reflection.

A huge male, the height of Aedion with weapons strapped to every inch of his body. He had giant wings tucked in, bright red gems scattered over his body. At least the wings explained why she had not seen anyone walk the paths. He likely flew in. Flew! Aelin had never come across a humanoid creature that could do such a thing. His face was rough-hewn but beautiful, the smile gracing it illustrating his love for this woman as if he’d declared it aloud. His hands were clasped in front of him, his patience evident.

He caught her gaze in the window, his face softening. He walked, standing two feet in front of her. He leant forward and placed a kiss to her cheek, and Aelin felt her eyes well. Not because she was scared, but because it had been a long time since she’d seen a man at peace be so gentle. It reminded her of Rowan, of the love she needed to get back to. Her cheek burned where his lips had been, and she could feel the colour rising to her face.

“Was it the bath? I hired someone today to fix the shower, I promise you won’t have to use it again.” He took one of her hands in his. His were scarred like a warrior, not that anything about this male contradicted that fact. But again, like her Rowan, he held her like a flower about to wilt.

Help me, Cassian!

That voiced went through her again, and Aelin realised with a start that it was the woman who this body belonged to.

Get this bitch away from me.

Aelin blinked in surprise at the words.

You’re surprised? You must be something worse than daft then. Why wouldn’t I want you out of me? Get the fuckout. I don’t know what magic you used to do this, what spell you must have stolen from the Book of Breathings, but they’ll figure it out.

Oh, this whole situation just became infinitely worse. It was one thing to be here, but to be stuck in the body with another conscious soul… Aelin was in deep, deep shit. How was it that wherever she went she always found herself in the most construed circumstances.

I… there is a lot happening right now. I didn’t mean to come here, and I didn’t do this on purpose. I don’t want to be here either,she thought back to the person – Nesta? – if that was even how this worked.

There was no reply, and Cassian was still staring at her.

I can feel the truth in your words.

Aelin sighed in relief, reckless in showing such emotion, especially since Cassian was still in front of her, waiting for her to speak. But she didn’t know what to say. Any words that came from her mouth may give her away or make him think something was wrong. She needed him gone. She glanced down, and noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes. She’d make good money betting that the men’s clothes in that closet belonged to the male in front of her – he was clearly comfortable here.

He noticed her studying his feet and wiggled his toes.

“There’s a lot of things you like Nesta Archeron but I didn’t think feet were on that list,” he teased. He raised his hands to caress her face. “Do you need me to distract you with some of those things?”

Her body reacted, but all it was was a reminder that this wasn’t Aelin. That the tingling she felt between her legs was nothing but a body’s natural reaction to someone it loved. Besides, Aelin knew what this was – she had played this game before. She had no doubt in her mind he was only saying these things to distract her. And being flirted with by someone so attractive? Well, it was distracting indeed.

If you fuck him I will kill you.

Och, I would never, Aelin snapped back.

Another truth. Tell me then, why are you here?

Now, why would I do that?

Because you landed yourself in one of the very few people in this world that can help you leave it. I need an explanation, but we need time. Tell him to go to Rhys, ask him if he can get flowers from Feyre to brighten the house.

Deciding to trust this woman – what else could she have done – Aelin said, “Go to Rhys. I need flowers from Feyre. To, you know, brighten the house.”

Cassian’s expression turned unexpectedly grave. “As you wish, my love.”

He stalked away, his hands casually on the hilt of his sword. He went up through a trapdoor, and then she heard the booming of his wings as he took off.

“Okay, okay. Where can we go? What can we do?”

We can’t do shit until you tell me what the hell is going on. Wow, you really are stupid. No wonder you found yourself in this position.

“Despite your foul mouth, you seem like the kind of person I would get along with. Or tear the throat out of. But my best friendships blossomed from hatred.”

The clock is ticking and yet the only thing coming out of your mouth is vile.

“Your name is Nesta?”

Yes.

“I am Aelin Ashryver Whitethron Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen.”

There was silence, and then a roaring laughter that rattled her head like she was a human maraca.

I’ve heard some convoluted names in my time, but that, THAT, is the worst I’ve ever heard.

“That’s very rude of you.”

Some say it is my finest trait. And I may not be an expert in geography, but there is no Terrasen anywhere near here. You truly are a long way from home.

Aelin sighed and went to leave the house before stopping herself. Cassian had been a walking armoury, and Aelin was in need of at least some knives. She combed through the house again, ignoring Nesta’s commentary as she did so. Finally, in a room that off-shot the stairs to the roof, she found a hall of weapons. She hid them in her shoes, under her jacket, anywhere she could without making the folk of this city suspicious. Her eyes widened with lust when she saw a beautiful Jian sword. She made grabby hands at it, she felt like a child at Yulemas, and picked it up reverently.

“I’m going to name this sword Your Majesty. Then, when people wrong me, I can be like ‘do you want to meet, Your Majesty?’ And then I can kill them with a sword and a pun.”

That is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard.

Aelin strapped the sword to herself. Satisfied with what she had, she left the house. She stalked in the direction of the city, trying to sort through the rapid-fire thoughts in her head about what to do next. How could she tell this Nesta her story, without starting from the beginning? To tell her how she got here, how she came to fall through hundreds of worlds until the kindness of a lovely man accidently led her to become trapped in this one.

And then she had to consider how to get out of here. One thing Nesta had sad stuck with her, the one thing that might be a solution to her problem. The Book of Breathings.

But first, a much needed explanation.

“Have you ever been in love, Nesta?”

Aelin found herself thanking the Gods out of habit. She thanked them that no one was around to hear her having a conversation with herself and thinking she was batshit crazy. It made her huff. There were no Gods now, not after what she had done.

That male you saw, Cassian. He is my love.

“Are you happy?”

More than I thought humanly possible.

“But you are not human.”

Not anymore.

Her words struck Aelin, closer than she could have anticipated.

“I know what it means to lose your humanity. To be in a place so dark, so despairing, that you can’t even dream of the light let alone think you’ll ever see one at the end of a tunnel. I have a Cassian. His name is Rowan, and he is my husband, my King, my mate. And out there somewhere he is alone, and scared, waiting for me to come home and end a war.”

Then you better speak, Queen Aelin.

“It’s a long story,” Aelin whispered.

Good thing I have nowhere to be. From the beginning, invader.

[tiny-maus-boots]

Soulmates AU pt 10

Summary:  Inspired by Soulmate(s) au, soulmate(s) au pt 2 , and Soulmate(s) au pt 3 hc by @fandom-heaux . An AU in which everyone is born with a smudged birthmark. As you find your mate in life the smudge forms their name when you’ve made an impression on them. In this world Beca doesn’t realize she has any, let alone three. FYI hc pt 3 is particularly important to Stacie’s reaction to her marks.

A/N: And a big thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup for reading this and posting in in places because I’m far too lazy to do it myself. She’s the bestest bestie. 

And no @rocketalana they are still not getting a dog

Beca

It felt like she had just gotten to sleep when the banging started. She thought at first if she ignored it that whoever the fuck it was would just go away. She’d gone to bed just as the sky was turning gray with the first rays of sun. They hadn’t stayed out that late but once she’d gotten home she’d found herself drawn to her work station. A melody she was toying with finally resolving itself into something real and tangible to work with. Something that had reminded her of the night she’d just had and the people she’d spent it with. It had burned in her brain until she was finally done with it and sometime during the third or fourth listen through she had passed out dead asleep at her table in the blissful slumber of the truly exhausted.

But now there was incessant banging and it was just too much to ignore. Beca rolled to her side thinking she was in bed and realized all too late that she was in her chair when the floor came up hard and fast to her face. “Son of a bitch.” Ow. Carefully she stood and blinked blearily at her phone to check the time as she shuffled to the door. It was just after 9 but she didn’t know anyone that would be trying to break her door in that early. She was already flinging the door open in just as much wild determination as whoever the hell was on the other side. “Alright, alright Jesus! Stop banging on my goddamn door like the fucking poli…” It took her a minute to process the image of Stacie dripping wet in only a towel on her doorstep. “Stacie, what the fu…”

“No! You what the fuck! What the fuck Beca? What. The. Fuck??” Before Beca had time to process anything that was happening Stacie pulled open her towel to expose her smudge marks. And most of everything else. “How could you do this to me?”

Beca’s eyes started to drift before she realized what she was doing and she brought her hand up quickly to cover them since Stacie didn’t seem to mind that she was mostly naked. “Dude! No! Why?” What was even happening right now? Stacie’s fingers wrapped around her wrist and struggled to pull her hand away from her face. There was a bit of a tussle and Beca was 95 percent sure boob touched her arm several times in the process. The door across the hall from hers opened abruptly and they both froze when her neighbor Luke cleared his throat.

“Ladies. I’m not exactly sure what’s going on here but I know I’m into it.”

Something rose in her chest in a hot flash and she yanked Stacie into the apartment, quickly shoving the taller woman behind her own body. “Hey! Keep it in your pants creepster!” He gave her a raised brow and she nodded feeling a hell of a lot tougher than she was. “That’s right. I’m talking to you. Keep it moving Bucko.”

Luke gave her a mild snort. “Yeah alright whatever. Tell your friend to call me when she wants it proper.”

Beca’s face crinkled in disgust at that. “Gross.” She brought her hand up to point to her eyes then his letting him know she was watching him then slammed the door shut. Her furious protective streak momentarily giving her amnesia so that she wasn’t at all prepared for Stacie to be standing stark naked behind her, hands on her hips and seething with fury. “Uhhhhh….”

“Beca!”

“Stacie!” She felt her eyes start to drift again and jerked them up to meet unflinching green eyes. “Did you just run down here mid shower?” Because that was of course the relevant information at the moment. Stacie’s eyes narrowed and Beca hurriedly squeaked out a plea for mercy. “Could you maybe with clothes or something?”

“NO!” It seemed the longer Stacie stood there waiting for Beca to look at her the angrier she got. She’d never actually seen her friend get mad before but if it was like this she didn’t much care for it. Nor did she care for being the target of Stacie’s anger.

Okay okay it was time to bite the bullet. Beca took a deep calming breath and opened her eyes to look at where Stacie was pointing. And okay her gaze may have taken a really quick detour before it rested on the smudge along the taller woman’s ribs. Beca. Oh. OH. OH FUCK.

Beca raised her hand and pointed at the offending mark. “What the fuck is that?? What did you do that for!?!” This couldn’t be possibly happening. At all. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. She’d just fallen asleep and this was some crazy fucked up dream she was having because she was horny and she thought Stacie was hot. That’s all it was.

“I didn’t do it! You did!” They stared at each other each breathing heavily before Stacie’s gaze broke, her lip quivering with the effort to hold back whatever was threatening to spill over and Beca felt a pang of hurt in her chest that she hadn’t expected. Stacie shook her head and wrapped her towel around herself tightly, her voice strained with the raw emotion. “I know I fuck around a lot but you were my first actual friend.”

“You um, you’re making that sound like we’re not friends now.” When Stacie didn’t say anything in denial Beca bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah that’s about the way it always is. Can’t believe this one time I thought…no, you know what? Doesn’t even matter.” Beca shook her head still not sure how any of this was even happening or why. She only knew that she had gotten used to being close to someone, caring about them and it hurt like a bitch that she had to give it up again. “For what it’s worth Stace, I didn’t know and I’m really fucking sorry.”

So sorry she didn’t even have words for it. Beca rubbed her forehead against the headache thundering behind her eyes. She backed up a few steps until she felt the couch against her legs and let them give out so she could sink into the sofa. Beca pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees waiting for Stacie to yell or scream or worse…leave.

There was a moment of hesitation before Stacie moved to stand directly in front of Beca. She could tell Stacie was torn between her hurt and anger and the desire to say something else but she wasn’t sure what it was until Stacie settled on the coffee table in front of her, for once taking great care in not flashing Beca more skin than was already on display. “I just.” The tall brunette let her shoulders slump and she shook her head. “I just got used to the idea that maybe it would be okay. Having someone. Even if I lost them, maybe it would be okay. Because I had you and you’re not supposed to be my mate. I’m not… I’m not supposed to lose you too Beca. And now…now there’s this and there is nothing I can do about it.”

It hurt in a way it shouldn’t have and tears stung at the back of her eyelids. “I swear to God, I didn’t know Stacie.” If she knew it could happen she wouldn’t have spent any time at all with Stacie. She would have just kept doing what she was doing before which had worked out fine for her. “If you don’t want to talk to me again I would completely understand. I don’t know what else to say except maybe it’s a different Beca? Maybe it’s not me at all.”

Even saying it felt wrong and she could tell by the way Stacie’s eyes went from green to a stormy gray that it didn’t sit right with her either. “I don’t know any other Becas and it’s logical to assume it’s you because you met Chloe, who is married to Aubrey, who is also destined to be my….mate. There’s definitely a connection.”

Beca looked up at Stacie when she caught the soft wonder-filled pause before she said the word mate. She smiled at the look on Stacie’s face, remembering the way her friend had been so careful with Aubrey. Or the way she had made them all feel at ease with one another, comfortable and relaxed like they had all known each other for years. It had hit her sometime after their third round of karaoke that Stacie made her feel happier than she had in a really long time and she wished that she could know what it would be like to belong to each other.

But she had also wondered that about Chloe. Because it was supposed to be safe. Because she was Beca and she didn’t have marks or a future of together forever. It shouldn’t be possible but here it was, now she was somehow linked to Stacie for the rest of her life and Jesus she wanted it so bad it hurt to think about. She had wanted to mean something to someone for her entire life and never thought it was something she could have. “Should I keep apologizing?”

“No.” Stacie sighed like a DMV worker on a Friday afternoon and flopped her hands uselessly in her lap. “I know your dumb ass didn’t mean to do…” She shook her head and closed her mouth, taking a second to think things through before she spoke again. “Look. All of this is weird and fucked up. I have three marks you have none, and one of my marks belongs to someone who already has a mate. And you’re clearly stupid in love with Chloe.”

Beca cleared her throat and shook her head. “M’not stupid in love with Chloe. I don’t even know her.” Lie. She knew Chloe, knew her soul, and for fucks sake could she get any cheesier?

Stacie leveled a quietly disappointed look at her and she sighed. “Really Becs? Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel something for her?”

She couldn’t do it. Beca dropped her gaze and went back to resting her chin on her knees. “I think it’s pretty clear I have stupid feelings for people, don’t you?” Stacie gave a humorless chuckle and nodded. “So now what?”

“Now…now I guess I go upstairs finish my shower with cold water.” Beca raised both brows at that and Stacie shrugged. “Eh, I may have forgotten to turn off the water in my haste to kick your tiny ass into next Tuesday.”

“Sorry.” She didn’t even know why she felt compelled to apologize again but she did.

“No…I’m sorry. I knew you didn’t do anything…I just…it hurt yeah?”

Beca sat up straighter and tried to figure out how to say things she didn’t even know she understood fully? “Stacie…I know you don’t want to lose yourself or whatever. For what it’s worth? I wouldn’t want you to be any other way and if this is it…if this is real and not some fucked up cosmic joke…I won’t let anyone change you.”

Stacie looked like she wanted to say something else but she didn’t she simply gave a slow nod and reached out to squeeze Beca’s knee. Though to be fair Beca didn’t know if Stacie was comforting her or looking for comfort by the gesture. “Thanks Becs. I better go get ready. So should you by the way.”

“Uh…why?”

The leggy brunette stood and adjusted her towel again with a slight shrug as she headed for the door. “Aubrey and Chloe invited us over for lunch and we’re going.” She gave Beca a quick look as if she expected the smaller woman to argue but Beca just gave a slow nod.

“Sure, okay. But I mean…is that it? We just pretend like nothing is different?” Because it WAS different now. At least for Beca herself.

Stacie paused at the door and sighed. “I don’t know Beca. But I think ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away and if I’m right somehow Chloe and Aubrey are a part of this so talking to them is our best bet. Besides. Do you know anyone else we could talk to about this?”

That would be a big fat no. Until Stacie she didn’t even really have any friends. “Point taken. Meet back here in an hour?” Stacie gave her a half wave of agreement before she left the apartment. Beca watched her leave before she picked up her cell phone and dialed quickly. It rang several times before voicemail picked up and she sighed in frustration but put on an almost cheery tone. “Hi Mom, right I forgot you’re somewhere near Ecuador which is totally cool! If slightly…inconvenient. Kidding. Kidding. Okay well guess I called for no reason really. Just saying hi. L.A. is great, work is good. Yes the apartment building is still standing. So I guess that warning about a good strong gust of wind was wrong. Haha. Um are you sure I don’t have any marks? I mean. I’m asking for a friend? Okay whatever have a good time, be safe, and I love you. Tell dad I miss him. Don’t go to snake island!” She hung up before the message could cut her off and flopped back onto the sofa.

“Why do you like fucking with me Universe?” She was not in the least bit surprised when she received no answer.

[jeffrinamichelle]

Ugly Christmas Sweater

So my Pitchmas recipient  is @magda-adgam. It totally won’t let me tag your blog. Lame. 

Anyway, I am hella sorry that you are getting this late. And trust me, I feel like a total dick about it. But, emergencies happen and they always seem to happen to me. So, to make it up to you, I am going to give you at least two parts to this story. Maybe three. I like to ramble when I write.

You won’t have to wait 100 years for the next installment. I am almost done with it.

Once again, I am so sorry. Merry Pitchmas/New Year!!!

How losing a bet and having to buy ugly Christmas sweaters changed Beca’s life. 

Read on AO3

There were few things in life that Beca hates more than movies. If she had to pick one thing that was almost as painstakingly awful as losing two hours of her life to some predictable cinematic snorefest, it would have to be Christmas. Without a doubt. One would think that she would hate Valentine’s Day more, seeing as she was perpetually single, but no. The only reason why she could stomach Valentine’s Day just a smidgen more is because she has a soft spot for the candy hearts. Her best friend Stacie makes fun of her all the time because she tells Beca that they taste like chalk. And maybe they do, but Beca still thinks that they are delicious.

Maybe the reason behind Beca’s distain for Christmas is the fact that she worked retail throughout high school and college. Stacie never knew the horrors of dealing with bitchy people who absolutely needed the newest video game console for their bratty child. She is insanely smart and got into college on a full ride scholarship. Beca wasn’t dumb by any means, she was just lazy in high school. After she graduated, she tried to talk to her father about her college plans. She wanted to major in music management and production. He immediately freaked out and told her that he wouldn’t pay for her college education if she chose that path. According to him, she needed to major in something that would give her a lucrative career. He wanted her to be a college professor like he was. They argued about it for months. There was no way in hell that Beca was going to become a teacher. Not that she didn’t respect teachers or anything, that just wasn’t the career choice for her. Since she was a child she had loved music, and she’d be damned if her father stopped her from going to school for her dream job. So, at the end of the argument, she refused to change her career path. In turn, her father refused to pay for her school. So, she put herself through college working a horrible retail job. It paid well, but she was miserable for the entirety of it. Thus came her hatred for the whole holiday season.

Aside from Beca’s affinity for the chalky heart candies that made Valentine’s Day, she can never seem to turn down a bet. Most of the time when she bets against Stacie, she loses. But for some reason she can never stop herself from agreeing to Stacie’s outrageous bets. After fifteen years of friendship, she should know better. But, she just can’t help it.

~*~*~*~

“Come on Becs, let’s go dance.” Stacie eyes her best friend with a grin before slamming back the last of her jack and coke.

“Ugh, why? You know that I hate dancing.”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re so good at it. And I need you to be my wing woman.”

“What lucky dude does the hunter have his eye on this evening?” Beca asks with a grin as she finishes her tumbler of whiskey.

Stacie tsks softly, cupping Beca’s chin with the palm of her left hand. She leans down to lightly kiss the corner of her best friend’s mouth.

“Now Bec, you know that the hunter doesn’t discriminate when it comes to sex.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget that the hunter is so fluid. So, let me rephrase. Who is on the hunter’s radar tonight? Which lucky lady or guy will you be attempting to seduce tonight?”

“I’m getting some very sexy, sapphic vibes from a tantalizing brunette at the bar.”

“Stace, I don’t even know what the hell that means.” Beca turns her head to look over at the bar, only to be stopped by Stacie’s hand gripping her chin tightly.

“Don’t look over there. You’ll ruin the air of mystery.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, woman?”

“She thinks that we here together. That’s why I need you to dance with me. It’s like she’s having some kind of internal battle on whether she should come over here and talk to me or not.”

“Any how exactly does us dancing together help this situation?”

“Because, jealousy is going to seal the deal. After she comes over to break up our dance, I’m going to take her back to our apartment so that I can make her squeal.”

Beca scowls at Stacie’s choice of words before smacking her arm lightly. “Ew! Dude, that’s so crass. You sound like a fuckboy when you talk like that.”

“I am anything but a fuckboy, Bec. I know how to treat a lady. I won’t apologize for being crass. Now are you going to help me bag this babe or not?” A perfectly sculpted eyebrow raises in question as Stacie eyes her best friend.

“Okay, fine. But when this girl shuts you down or punches you, I’m going to laugh.”

“Keep talking crap Becs and I’ll hide your beats that I bought you when we get home. And then I will fuck that hottie all night long.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wanna bet?”

“No, because I know that you’ll do it. I love you but you’re kind of an asshole.”

“Right back atcha, babe. But since you are so doubtful of my seduction skills, how about a little bet?”

Honestly, Beca is also well aware of her best friend’s sexual prowess. She has fallen victim to it many times in their fifteen year friendship. Beca isn’t ashamed of it either, she knows that her best friend is insanely attractive. And Beca is very, very gay. When the opportunity presented itself, she would’ve been a fool to say no. It hasn’t made their friendship suffer in any way either, which is something that Beca is monumentally thankful for. Stacie has a high sex drive, and rather than risk getting some sort of std, she made a deal with Beca. When Beca is single, which is more often than she’d like to admit, they sleep together. It keeps Stacie safe and it keeps them both satisfied.

So, taking this bet is really a horrible idea. But Beca has the best punishment if she manages to beat Stacie.

“Fine. What’s the bet?”

“I bet you that I can take this girl home tonight.”

“That’s it?” Beca looks over her shoulder at the girl that Stacie is talking about. She’s attractive, yeah. Tall, brunette, and she looks kind of bitchy. She’s exactly the type of girl that Stacie usually goes for. And she’s totally flirting with the very male bartender. There’s no way in hell that Stacie is going to win this bet, because this girl is totally straight. Beca smirks in the girl’s direction, Stacie totally oblivious as she runs her hands up the bartender’s bicep. “You just want to bet that you’re going to take this girl home?”

“Yup,” Stacie pops the ‘p’ loudly, biting down on her bottom lip with a smirk. “I can’t wait for you to lose this bet. I have plans for you.”

The tone of Stacie’s voice makes Beca shiver. She just hopes that whatever Stacie has planned for her is as awesome as her plan.

“Deal.”

“Oh, babe, you are so going to regret this.”

~*~*~*~*~

As it turns out, Beca didn’t stand a chance when it came to this bet. They didn’t even make it through the first song of their dance before the brunette approached them. She introduced herself as Aubrey, eyes raking over Stacie’s body shamelessly. Honestly, the way the two women were eyeing each other made Beca incredibly uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, in fact, that she quickly excused herself so that she could make a beeline for the bar. She’s positive that Stacie and her flavor of the night didn’t even notice her absence.

The bartender gives Beca a sympathetic look as she slides a tumbler of whiskey over to her.

“Tough night, Becs?”

“You have no idea, C.R,” Beca mumbles from around the rim of her glass. She swallows her drink with a grimace. “I didn’t even want to come out tonight.”

“So, why did you?”

“Stacie needed to get laid. Finals have been kicking her ass.”

C.R. chuckles softly, wiping the countertop with her rag. She turns her attention to a customer, quickly making them a drink before turning her attention back to Beca.

“She’s the one that decided to go after her graduate degree. Nobody forced her to stay in school, therefore she has nobody to blame but herself.”

“This is true, but that girl is so fucking smart. She’s going to change the world.”

“Or destroy it.”

The two women share a laugh as Beca drains the last of her drink. C.R. is quick to refill Beca’s glass, pouring way too much into the tumbler.

~*~*~*~*~

The night drags on as Beca waits for Stacie to seal the deal with the angry brunette. Beca knows that she’s lost this damn bet, so she’s going to drown her sorrows in whiskey. Whiskey that Cynthia Rose isn’t going to let her pay for at the end of the night. The upside to having a close friend that is a bartender is free drinks. As long as Beca doesn’t ask for expensive, high end drinks, that is. But, she’s a college student, she will drink Jack Daniels if she doesn’t have to pay for it.

It’s nearing two a.m. when she hears her phone notification ping. She’s pleasantly buzzed, nearing on being drunk. She fumbles with her cell phone as she pulls it out of her tight jeans. Her vision is a little blurry, but she’s just going to blame it on the fog lights. Yeah, definitely not the Jameson that she has been borderline binge drinking for the last three hours. She just has to squint a little bit in order to read the text.

Best Sex Ever: (1:55 a.m.) Aubs and I took a Lyft home. Thought that I should let you know so that you don’t worry about me.

Broody Bitch: (1:56 a.m.) Did you change our contact names again?

Best Sex Ever: (1:56 a.m.) Like two weeks ago, babe. Lolz.

Broody Bitch: (1:57 a.m.) What the fuck, dude? Why?

Best Sex Ever: (1:57 a.m.) Aww, baby, don’t be mad. You know that I love you the most.

Broody Bitch: (1:57 a.m.) It’s weird that you’re telling me this while you are probably fucking another girl.

Best Sex Ever: (1:58 a.m.) Aww, Bec, are you jealous?

Broody Bitch: (1:58 a.m.) Not even close, dude. I’m just worried about the hunter’s sexual prowess. Why are you texting me, instead of making that hot chick ‘squeal?’

Best Sex Ever: (1:59 a.m.) Oh, I fully intend on making her squeal. And you know first hand just how much sexual prowess the hunter possesses. How many times have I made you scream?

Broody Bitch: (2:00 a.m.) That statement goes both ways, asshole.

Best Sex Ever: (2:00 a.m.) I’m not going to deny that you know how work this body. You just didn’t seem to be in the mood tonight. So, I decided to bring somebody home.

Broody Bitch: (2:01 a.m.) You know the rules. Also, it’s not my fault that work was a bitch today. I really just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until tomorrow. But I know that you needed some sort of release.

Best Sex Ever: (2:02 a.m.) I’m sorry babe. You manage the studio though, so you could just fire all of the incompetent assholes that work for you.

Broody Bitch: (2:02 a.m.) I know that. Stacie, remember the only rule that we have.

Best Sex Ever: (2:02 a.m.) No fucking on the couch.

Broody Bitch: (2:03 a.m.) Thank you.

Best Sex Ever: (2:03 a.m.) I don’t know why we still have that rule. We have sex on the couch all the time.

Broody Bitch: (2:04 a.m.) That’s different.

Best Sex Ever: (2:04 a.m.) It’s literally the same thing, but whatevs. I gotta go, Aubrey is all sorts of naked on my bed right now. Love you, bitch.

Broody Bitch: (2:05 a.m.) Love you too, asshat! Also, I hope this goes without saying, but don’t fuck that girl in my bed!

Best Sex Ever: (2:06 a.m.) I’m sorry, the person you’re trying to reach is currently preforming cunnilingus. Please try again later.

Broody Bitch: (2:07 a.m.) Anastacia Marie Conrad, I swear to Lesbian Jesus that I will tit punch you if you have sex in my bed again.

Beca slams her phone down on the bar top with an annoyed sigh. Cynthia Rose smirks at her friend as she refills Beca’s tumbler. She should probably cut Beca off, but she knows that the brunette can hold her liquor. Despite her small stature, Beca can definitely drink with the best of them.

“Last one, Becs.”

“Whyyyy? C.R., you’re killing me.”

“I’m not in the business of letting you get white girl wasted. Remember what happened the last time that you did.”

“It wasn’t my fault, dude. That skeezy guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. I told him that we played for the same team and he refused to leave me alone. He even grabbed my ass.”

“So that gives you the right to break his nose?”

“He touched me first. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Regardless, you are not allowed to get wasted when Stacie isn’t here to keep you from kicking the shit out of somebody.”

“I have you.”

“I have to close the bar. And I’m sure that I have other people to get drinks for before I kick everybody out.”

“Ugh, fine. Take away all my fun.”

“Whatever, you love me.”

“Hardly.”

~*~*~*~*~

The buzz of her alarm startles her awake at what she knows is a godawful hour. Her head feels like somebody is jackhammering inside of it, and her mouth is as dry as the Sahara. Beca groans painfully as she stretches out her sore muscles.

“I’m never drinking again,”Beca grumbles to the otherwise empty room. She reaches out blindly, scrambling to grab her phone off of the bedside table. Her hand smacks softly against a glass cup that definitely wasn’t there when she went to bed at three a.m. She opens one eye slowly, looking over at the table. A fresh glass of water is sitting where her phone was last night. Two round orange pills are next to the glass, sitting on top of a folded piece of paper.

“What the fresh hell?”

Beca grabs the pills hastily, throwing them into her mouth and swallowing them dry. She sits up with another groan, rolling her shoulders to work out the knots. She grabs the glass and chugs down the water, slamming the glass back onto the table a little too hard, wincing at the loud clunk. She then turns her attention to the folded up piece of paper that she knows for sure wasn’t there this morning. She grabs the paper and unfolds it, tired eyes roaming over Stacie’s loopy scrawl.

Becs,

You lost our bet, babe. I don’t know why you continue to bet against me when you almost always lose, but whatever. I’ll bask in my glory.

I made a fresh pot of coffee. When you’re feeling human enough to leave your room, come get some. Aubrey and I are in the living room. You and I have a date to go shopping this afternoon.

Love ya,

Stace xoxo

Beca groans, crumpling up the note and tossing it onto the bed. She gets up, wincing at the painful throb in her entire body. She walks to her en suite, stripping off her dirty clothes and leaving them carelessly in her wake. If she has to go shopping, taking a shower is a must.

She just hopes that whatever Stacie has planned for shopping isn’t completely horrible.

~*~*~*~*~

“Stacie, no.”

“Stacie, yes.”

“I’m not going in there.”

“But you are.”

“Why?” Beca whines petulantly, frowning at her best friend.

“Because you lost our bet. And my punishment for you is that for the next two weeks, you have to wear ugly Christmas sweaters. A different one each day, to be exact.”

“I….but you know that I hate Christmas time.”

“I know.” Stacie laughs softly. “That’s what makes this punishment even sweeter.”

“You know, when you said that we were going shopping, I thought that this punishment might be fun.”

Stacie grips Beca’s shoulder as they walk through the front door of the store. The fluorescent sign above the door says ‘Aca-amazing Threads.’ Just the name alone makes Beca want to vomit. She can tell before they walk in that there is going to be a really perky, annoying salesperson. The store will more than likely be playing Christmas music, even though it’s barely the fourth of December. A tiny bell announces their presence before Beca can make a stealthy escape.

“Hi!” An all too perky voice calls out as Stacie and Beca make their way into the building. Beca hasn’t completely recovered from her hangover, so that cheery voice just makes her cringe.

“No, Stace. For lesbian Jesus’ stake. I am too hungover to deal with that voice.”

“Beca, you seriously don’t have a choice in this matter.” Stacie’s grip on Beca’s shoulder tightens slightly. Beca winces at the movement, but not in pain. To be honest, the forcefulness of her best friend is kind of turning her on a little bit. But now is not the time or the place for that.

“Dude, I will literally do anything else.”

“Nope, I think that this is the right punishment. Aubrey actually helped me come up with it.”

“Of course she did. I knew that she looked evil as hell.”

“That woman is amazing, not evil.”

“Awww, Conrad. Are you getting soft on me?”

“Hardly. I’m just letting you know that I’m going to marry that girl one day. So you should probably be nice to your future….I was going to say sister-in-law but that thought just kind of makes me want to puke. It makes us sound like sisters.”

“Ew, dude. Sisters don’t do the things that we’ve done to each other.”

“At least, not normally.”

“Welcome to Aca-Amazing Threads, ladies. Are you looking for anything in particular?” The chipper voice is closer now, making Beca finally turn her attention away from her best friend.

The first look that Beca gets of this chipper woman takes her breath away.

The woman is gorgeous. Absolutely stunning.

She’s a little bit taller than Beca, with bright blue eyes. Her red hair makes her eyes look ridiculously blue. Her smile is so bright that it makes Beca’s sensitive eyes hurt. Beca does a once over of the other woman, looking at her nametag after what she hopes is a subtle glance at her boobs.

Beca is so, so gay and this woman is one thousand percent her type.

Her subtle staring might not be so subtle because before she knows it, Stacie is jabbing her in the stomach with her elbow.

“Ouch, what the fuck dude?”

“Becs, tell Chloe the reason why we’re here.”

“I need a sweater….” Beca mumbles quietly, still gob smacked by this outrageously attractive woman.

“Okay, that’s a start. What kind of sweater are we looking for?” The woman enthusiastically grabs Beca’s hand, pulling the brunette alongside her.

“What my best friend is looking for is a Christmas sweater.”

“Okay. We have plenty of Christmas sweaters. Tis the season after all.”

“I hate you so much right now, Anastacia.” Beca grumbles as Chloe stops them in front of a very elaborate display of Christmas sweaters. She turns her head to glare at the best friend, scoffing when she is nowhere in sight. After looking around the store, Beca notices her, standing by the front doors, looking down at the phone with a goofy grin.

She’s probably texting that girl from last night. Amanda or Ashley or whatever her name was. Beca makes a mental note to give Stacie so much shit when they get home.

“Are you guys looking for matching sweaters? I always love it when couples have matching sweaters.”

“Oh no, we aren’t a couple.” Beca’s eyes roam over Chloe’s body once more. It dawns on her at that moment that Chloe is still holding her hand. Her entire body feels warm next to the other girl. She wants nothing more in that moment than to pull Chloe’s body against hers.

Whoa. You’re treading dangerous waters here, Mitchell.

“No? You guys sure argue like one.”

“No. Not even close. She’s just my best friend. We’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Gotcha.” Chloe clears her throat softly. “So, do you see any sweaters that catch your eye?”

“Yeah, that one.” Beca blindly points to the sweater that is closest to Chloe. She has literally no idea what the sweater looks like, to be honest. She just needs to get far away from this girl before she does something stupid.

She’s actually surprised that she can still form coherent sentences at this point. Usually she becomes a useless mess around pretty girls.

Chloe is so breathtakingly beautiful that Beca should probably be drooling troll by now.

Beca watches Chloe as she walks away to look for the sweater in her size, which she totally didn’t tell the other girl. She is about to call out to the other woman, but all the can think about is how cold her hand feels without Chloe’s wrapped around it.

“Becs? I am going to leave you here in Chloe’s very capable hands. I’m meeting Aubrey for lunch down the street.”

Stacie’s voice breaks Beca out of her reverie.

“How am I supposed to get home? You drove here.”

“Well it just so happens that the bistro that we’re going to is like five blocks down the road. So, after Chloe helps you pick out your sweater, you guys can meet us there.”

“Fine. That’s fine.” Beca’s eyes widen as Stacie’s words sink in. “Wait, what?”

“Oh didn’t I tell you? Chloe is Aubrey’s best friend.”

“What the fuck dude?!” Beca hisses under her breath. “I can’t go to lunch with her.”

“Why?”

“Because, dude, she is so fucking attractive.” Beca huffs indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know how I get around pretty girls, Stace.”

“I know. You become a useless lesbian.”

“I can’t be around her. I’ll make a fool of myself.”

“Would it help matters or make them worse if I told you that she thinks you’re totally hot.”

“That doesn’t help, at all Stacie!” Beca squeaks, her neck flushing with embarrassment. “Also, how do you know that?”

“Um, so I’ve maybe been dating Aubrey for the past month,” Stacie whispers. “Look, Bec….”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?!?” Beca yells at her best friend, waving her arms in the air.

“Seriously Becs, I’ve been meaning to tell you. It just hasn’t come up.”

“That’s a copout and you know it. We spend a lot of time together, you could’ve told me at any point. Were you guys dating while we were still sleeping together?”

“Yes.”

“Stacie….”

“No, you gotta hear me out. We were only kind of seeing each other. It wasn’t anything serious. But I really like her Beca. And for the first time since I dated Joey Presley sophomore year of high school, I can see myself falling in love with her.”

“That’s great.” Beca shoves her hands into the back pockets of her skinny jeans. She’s mad, sure. But she hasn’t seen this look in Stacie’s eyes in the last eight years. So, really she wants to support her best friend, but fuck, she really hates it when people lie to her. “Really it is, Stace. I’m happy that you found somebody to make you want to settle down. But you didn’t have to lie to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“You kind of did though. Lying by omission is still a lie. And what’s worse is that you felt like you couldn’t tell me that you met somebody.”

“Becs, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Save it. I’m gonna go. Have a good lunch with your girl. I’ll see you later.”

“Beca…”

Beca holds a hand up to stop Stacie.

“Just, don’t right now. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Without another word, Beca walks out of the store.

~*~*~*~*~*

The next three days are absolute torture for Beca. She doesn’t like fighting with her best friend. But she is mad and a little bit hurt. Not because Stacie found somebody that she wants to be exclusive with, because honestly Beca wants that for her best friend. It just kind of makes her feel gross to know that Stacie was still sleeping with her while dating another person. Just because it makes her feel like a little bit like a homewrecker, even if they weren’t technically together.

So, for the past three days Beca’s been crashing on Cynthia Rose’s couch. She’s pretty sure that C.R.’s girlfriend Denise is ready to scream from having little to no privacy. But she’s too nice to say anything.

She’s done her fair share of housework and cooking to try and make up for the fact that she’s basically freeloading. She also hid money inside of C.R.’s refrigerator last night. She’s not planning on telling her until after she leaves the apartment, because she knows that C.R. will find a way to slip it back into her bag.

Stacie has tried texting and calling her nonstop since she stormed out of the clothing store. Beca wasn’t ready to talk to her, so she has been ignoring her best friend’s messages. If she’s completely honest, she’s still not quite ready, but she’s out of clean clothes and C.R.’s laundry room is out of order. So, if that isn’t a sign from Lesbian Jesus that she needs to go home, then Beca doesn’t know what is.

Luckily, when Beca gets dropped off by Denise, Stacie is still in class. Beca thanks Denise before trudging up the two flights of stairs that lead her to her and Stacie’s apartment. She goes into Stacie’s room to grab her dirty clothes so that she can wash them along with her own. After starting the washing machine, Beca grabs a beer out of the fridge and plops her body onto the living room couch. She puts something menial on television to pass the time until the inevitable conversation the she will have with her best friend.

She’s so immersed in the cooking competition on the television that she doesn’t notice the box on the table right away. It isn’t until she goes to put her feet up on the table that it finally catches her attention. Well, the attention of her feet, anyway.

Beca grabs the box and pulls it into her lap. She studies the box curiously. She’s not quite sure what it is, but her name is written on top of it. It’s in a loopy cursive scrawl that she knows isn’t Stacie’s. She unties the ribbon on the box and opens it.

Beca isn’t able to stop the sarcastic chuckle from escaping her lips when she sees the most godawful Christmas sweater that she’s ever seen in her life. On top of the sweater is a folded up piece of paper. Beca grabs the piece of paper out of the box and then sets the ugly ass sweater on the couch beside her.

With a sigh, Beca reclines her body against the couch and unfolds the paper.

Beca,

Here’s the sweater that you picked out. Although, I’m pretty sure that you just blindly pointed to one. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas sweaters but this one is just terrible. You left before I could bring it out to you, so I bought it and had Stacie bring it home for you.

I’m pretty bummed that you didn’t come out to lunch with Stacie, Aubrey and I. While we were eating, Stacie told me about the whole not telling you about her relationship with Aubs. I’m sorry that she kept that from you, it totes sucks.

I know that I didn’t really get to talk to you much while you were in the store, but here is my number in case you want to get together sometime. I think that we’ll be fast friends.

Enjoy the sweater!

Chloe XOXO

Beca laughs softly at the cheekiness of the redhead. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and immediately opens up her text messages. She types in Chloe’s phone number and creates a contact, listing her under ‘Redheaded Babe.’ She starts a new message thread using the acquired phone number.

Beca takes her time planning out her message to Chloe. She doesn’t want to sound like a complete idiot if she actually sacks up and sends the text. She barely knows this girl, there is no reason for her to be so damn nervous. She’s such a gay disaster and Chloe just might be her undoing.

After much deliberation, she finally types out the message. She presses send before she can talk herself out of it.

Unknown (4:30 p.m.) Hey.

When she rereads what her ridiculous brain actually came up with, she wants to punch herself in the throat.

‘Hey.’ So freaking eloquent, Beca.

If Chloe didn’t think that you were an idiot before, she surely will now. There’s no way Chloe’s going to respond to that stupid message. No way in hell.

With a resigned sigh, Beca tosses her cell phone onto the couch cushion next to her. She’s just going to sit in place and die of embarrassment now. She leans back against the back of the couch, bringing her left hand up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance. She’s so busy chastising herself that she doesn’t hear the ping of her phone.

TBC

[undersummerskyy]

Bechloe one-shot

I was going to write a really short Bechloe one-shot but it turned into this whole 3000 words of fluff thing and I don’t even know. Enjoy! 

Chloe loves to cuddle. Because, of course, she does. It isn’t really surprising; the redhead was known for startling her friends – mostly Beca – by wrapping her arms around them at the most unexpected times. It wasn’t quick either, Chloe would hug you and pull you as close as possible until it was almost hard to breathe. It scared Beca in the beginning. She’d had friends before, although not many, and knew that girls could sometimes get a little touchy-feely. So yes, she had had friends who would hug her, and she got used to the occasional ‘haven’t-seen-each-other-in-a-while’ hug, which was mostly just one arm wrapped around her waist and sometimes a quick press of lips against her cheek.

This was different though, Chloe was different. The first time it happened was the day Beca got bailed out of jail and she’d just had a rough fight with her father in the car. She was ready to go to bed and just forget everything. Forget the Bellas, forget about her dad, forget stupid fucking Jesse, just... forget it all. She should never have tried caring in the first place. But then, she’d walked through her door and there they were, waiting for her. It had surprised her. 

“You guys waited up for me?” She had asked, not being able to stop the smile from forming on her face. It’s hard to maintain a badass attitude when you’re exhausted.

“Of course we waited up for you.” Chloe answered, and Beca remembers seeing her lean forward in her seat, as if she was about to get up and walk over, but then her stupid roommate had interrupted them and the ‘moment’ or .. ugh.. whatever it was, had been ruined.

Later that night, after Aubrey had finished her ‘emergency Bella meeting’ and told them to all be at rehearsals the next day, 8 am sharp, they all left. Well, everyone except for Chloe.

Beca was fidgeting in her seat, aware of how close Chloe was standing next to her.

“I’m really sorry about tonight.” Chloe had said, then reached over and squeezed her shoulder briefly. “That we weren’t there for you, I mean.”

“I’m sorry too.” Beca replied, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I thought it looked pretty badass.” Chloe said with a smile on her face and her eyes big and bright.

Beca awkwardly laughed at that. “Oh, well.. thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” She said it with the biggest smile on her face, only making Beca more uncomfortable.

“Well, I’ll just see you tomorrow then.” Beca then said, it wasn’t that she wanted to get rid of the other girl, she just didn’t really have anything else to say.

“Yes! Of course.” Chloe answered, walking over towards the door of Beca’s dorm room. Beca followed behind and opened up the door for the other girl.

“Once again,” the older girl said just as she was about to walk away, “I’m really sorry about not being there. I wanted to go to the station but Jesse stopped me. Makes sense actually, you probably wanted your boyfriend to be there instead of me.”  

“Jesse’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, okay, because Aubrey-“

“Yeah well, Aubrey is wrong about a lot of things.”

Chloe just smiled in response. Suddenly she was moving closer, and before Beca fully realized what was happening the other girl had wrapped her arms around her. Beca stood still for a second, surprised by the sudden move, then awkwardly brought one hand up to pat Chloe on the shoulder. She’d done this to her parents and usually, they’d back off and give her a tight smile. Chloe, however, just moved in closer. She pulled Beca flush against her, her hands on the other girls lower back, and Beca could practically feel her smiling against the side of her cheek. It was.. oddly nice. Beca finally stopped patting the redhead’s shoulder and just let her hand rest there, the other one still hanging loosely by her side.

Finally, Chloe pulled back, a big smile on her face. “Well, goodnight Beca.”

“Goodnight.” She’d whispered in response, not fully trusting her voice at that moment.

That moment was over five years ago.

Beca couldn’t believe it. Time was going by too fast.

She still often feels like that girl, but she also knows and sees in herself how much she has changed. She’s still badass, because of course, she’s Beca effin Mitchell after all, but she’ll allow herself the occasional smile. She lets her friends in too. Not all the time, but she trusts these girls, trusts them more than anything in life.

She’s living in Brooklyn, sharing a tiny apartment with Chloe and Amy. It’s not as bad as she thought it would be. The old Beca would never have done it, wouldn’t have even thought about it. She needs her space, craves time alone to recharge. But Beca™ kind of likes having her friends around. It’s nice to come home after a long day and find her friends sitting around their small table, clearly waiting for her to start dinner even though it’s late and they are probably starving. What’s nice as well is that every morning she wakes up and there’s a steaming cup of coffee sitting on her nightstand, courtesy of Chloe, who gets up a couple of hours before her every day.

It’s less nice that nobody likes cleaning, and that Amy likes to throw her stuff everywhere. It’s also not great that there are only two beds.

Not that she hates it, quite the opposite in fact.

Sharing a bed with Chloe Beale has been... eventful... to say the least.

First of all, she hogs the covers, like... all the time. And Beca gets really cold. She’s tiny, okay?! She likes wrapping herself up in blankets and being all warm but now she’ll usually wake up in the middle of the night, discovering that she has about 1% of the covers, and Chloe has the rest.

Secondly, Chloe is, well, Chloe. She tells you about her day in a whispered voice, offers to give you back massages like all the time (which Beca never accepts of course, but sometimes she gets close to saying yes and she’s afraid that one day she might). Chloe pokes her when she’s about to fall asleep and giggles when Beca stares at her as if she still is that girl Chloe met a little over five years ago. She also tells Beca about her dreams in detail every single day, because of course, she does.

But the absolute worst thing? Chloe loves to cuddle.

The first time it happened was by accident. Beca had been awake - and fucking freezing, thank you very much – when Chloe rolled over in her sleep (dragging all of the 99% of the covers with her) and had wrapped herself around Beca like she was some kind of koala.

It was kind of cute really.

Beca froze at first, but was honestly just relieved to have some of the covers back, plus it was Chloe, and Chloe hugged her all the time. She should be getting used to this right? Her heart shouldn’t be pounding. Yet it was.

After that day, it became kind of regular. The redhead would roll over in the middle of the night and they would cuddle. In the beginning, Beca would just lay still, not wanting to wake the other woman up, but after a while, she figured that moving her arm from underneath her to wrap it around the redhead wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, right? Right..

So far, they haven’t talked about it. Beca can feel Chloe untangling herself from her in the morning, and sometimes she swears she can just feel the redhead’s gaze on her, as if she doesn’t want to move away from her.

It’s been going on for a couple of months now. Or well, had. They just got back from their USO tour and suddenly everything is weird. Like, weirder than fat Amy. Which is a lot.

Beca knows she’s got a crush on Chloe. She’s known for a long time. It’s part of the reason why she hated the cuddling so much in the beginning. Like eating ice cream when you’re lactose intolerant, it just makes the ice cream taste so much better. She always thought it didn’t mean anything though, like it was just a thing they did because they’re good friends and Chloe’s just like that. But now, now she’s not so sure anymore. Chloe had kissed Chicago… and now everything was different.

But Beca was freezing. It was cold in their small apartment and Chloe had stolen the covers from her. She was sad and cold and upset and just in an ‘old Beca’ mood. Part of her wanted to storm out, find Chicago and punch him for ruining whatever it was that was between them. But that wouldn’t make sense. Again, the new Beca was really taking over her life here. Which is exactly why she did the following.

The brunette scooted closer towards Chloe and sat up a little so that she could stare down at her. She’d never in their entire friendship initiated any kind of contact besides a ‘super-quick-does-it-even-count’ hug when she’s feeling extra happy, or well.. drunk. Or both.

Anyways, here she was, staring down at her friend. Chloe looked so peaceful, she almost wanted to give up and just embrace the coldness. Almost.

“Chloe.” She whispers then, not wanting to wake up the other girl in the room with them.

“Chlo.” She tries again, pushing a little on her shoulder. The other girl starts to stir and turns around slowly, now laying on her back facing Beca. Her eyes are still closed but she’s definitely waking up now.

“Bec? You okay?” She mumbles, sleep dripping from her voice.

“Uh..” Be brave, Beca, she thinks, “I’m kinda cold.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Chloe responds, opening her eyes a little to see what’s going on. She looks down, noticing how she has all the covers and unwraps them from around herself. She pushes them towards Beca and rolls back, facing the other way.

Beca just sits there, holding the covers. She really thought this was going to go differently. Shit. She stays quiet for a full two minutes, contemplating if she should ask or just go to sleep. She knows Chloe is still awake, her breathing hasn’t evened out yet.

“I’m still cold.” She says then, cursing herself for not being able to keep her voice steady.

Chloe sighs deeply, like she’s tired. Well, she obviously is, because it’s freaking 4:12 AM, but like a different kind of tired.  

“Do something about it then.” The redhead finally responds, her voice all low and absolutely beautiful.

Beca was quiet for a bit. “What? Like, run some laps or whatever?”

“Beca.” Chloe just says. But it’s enough. She understands.

The younger girl lets herself sink further under the covers, takes a deep breath and then scoots forward, closer towards Chloe, until she’s pressed up fully against her. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest because this is so different than anything they’ve done before. They’re spooning, like actually spooning. Beca tentatively wraps her arm around the other girl’s waist, noticing how Chloe sighs deeply, contently, and pushes herself even closer. Beca’s asleep within minutes.

They don’t talk about it the next day.

Chloe doesn’t move over towards her side when they’re in bed. She just turns around again and mumbles a ‘goodnight’ to Beca. No story, no poking, nothing.

She’s a little disappointed.

When she wakes up cold in the night she doesn’t hesitate this time. She’s cold and so tired that she doesn’t have the energy to care. She pulls the blankets up and slides in behind Chloe, confidently pulling the other girl against her. She stirs a little, and Beca swears she can see a small smile on her face. 

They’re a little tipsy. Not drunk, because they’re getting a little old for that shit, but tipsy for sure. They’re stumbling into the apartment, having just come back from a night out with the girls. It’s been 5 months since they got back from the tour now and a little over three weeks since Beca and Chloe last hugged. Chloe hasn’t been hogging the covers because the weather has been better and Beca feels weird doing it now. Plus, Chloe has Chicago, right? She’s not even sure. She hasn’t asked. She knows that makes her a horrible friend, but she’s never really been that girl anyways, the one who talks about boys and braids hair, so she figures Chloe can forgive her for not asking.

They stumble to the bed, trying to get rid of their clothes and put on their pajamas. Amy is still out, so at least they don’t have to worry about waking her up. Finally, after a bit of a struggle and a lot of giggling from Chloe, they’re in bed.

“Chloe. Chlo. Chlo.” Beca says, grinning widely.

“Oh my god, yes. What is it?” The other girl responds, rolling over to face her friend.

“Hugs.” Beca says, opening her arms and smiling at the redhead.

For a second she has a look on her face, like she’s trying to stop herself for whatever reason, but then she’s grinning widely and wrapping her arms around Beca in a way that she hasn’t done in a long time. Like she just decided not to care or whatever.

It’s an awkward position, with both of them laying on their side and stuff, but she’s not about to pull away. She’s missed this, missed feeling like she was the most important person in Chloe’s life. She knows that’s selfish, but she can’t help it. The redhead squeezes her even tighter for a second, then complains that her arm is getting tired and pulls back a little. Beca actually pouts.. like… what has she become?

They’re laying face to face now, and it reminds her of hood night, all those years ago. It makes her chuckle.

“What?” Chloe asks, clearly confused.

“Just…” Beca responds, then leans her forehead against Chloe's “I think that we’re gonna be really fast friends.”

Chloe laughs softly. “Just when I thought you were becoming all nice and stuff.”

Beca ignores the comment, and instead glances down at Chloe’s lips. “I thought that you were going to kiss me.”

“Sorry?”

“That night, I thought you were going to kiss me.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and Beca thinks that maybe Chloe’s falling asleep, or just decided to ignore it. She hates herself for saying it now.

“I was, at first.” She suddenly says, causing Beca’s eyes to widen.

“Uh-Wha-How-Why?” She stutters.

Chloe smiles. “You ask too many questions. I don’t know, I uh- I guess I just wanted to. I changed my mind though.”

Beca takes a deep breath, now avoiding the redhead’s eyes. The alcohol is giving her the courage she needs and she pushes herself to say: “I wish you had.”

Chloe seems taken aback by that, pulling away a little and looking into Beca’s eyes. Her eyes shift then, landing on her lips. “Do you- do you still want to?”

“I uh-“

“Oh.” Chloe responds, as if she’s got her answer.

“Chloe, let me talk. I do want to but uh- I uh- this is hard.”

“It’s really not.”

She pushes forward then, pressing their lips together. Beca gets lost in the feeling for a minute. Chloe’s lips move against her, closed and so so soft. It takes everything in her to push the other girl away softly.

“Wait. Please.”

Chloe just stares at her, confused but giving her time to think. 

“I don’t want to experiment. Or whatever.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“The lodge? You mentioned-“

“Oh, right. I had forgotten about that.”

Beca chuckles. “I haven’t. Kinda haven’t stopped thinking about it.” She blushes then, realizing that she probably shouldn’t have said that. “Point is, I don’t want something like that. I uh- I really like you, Chloe, like really. I do want to kiss you, but if you’re just doing this because you’re drunk or want to have fun, or you know, experiment, then I can’t do it.”

She looks down at her own hands beneath the covers, laying close to one of Chloe’s. “I can’t do it. It’ll break me.”

“Becs.” She says, tilting the other girls chin up. “I really really like you too, okay? I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. So can I, please?”

She wants to say yes, but there’s still something bothering him. “What about Chicago, aren’t you two…?”

“We were never anything. He was just.. fun.. I don’t know. I guess I thought that maybe if I pretended to like him I actually would and then I could just get over you. It didn’t work, and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For hurting you, for being stupid. I just- I never know with you, Beca. You’re so closed off.”

“I’m working on it.” 

“I know, softy.” 

“Hey!” She says, smiling, then turns serious, “Is that why you were suddenly pulling away from me, by the way? Not uh- hugging me and stuff?”

Chloe nods. “It was too much.”

“Like ice cream, huh?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“When you’re lactose intolerant.”

“You’re weird.”

“Well, you’re weirder, and I would really like to kiss you now.”

Chloe chuckles and wraps a hand around Beca’s neck to pull her closer. Their lips meet and the brunette can’t help but moan into the kiss instantly, so glad that this is finally happening. Eventually, Chloe’s tongue traces her bottom lip and she gasps into the kiss, opening her mouth. The older woman uses the moment to slide her tongue into Beca’s mouth, deepening the kiss. They’re both moaning now, Chloe’s hands sliding underneath Beca’s pajama top to trace her stomach muscles. The other girl smiles into the kiss, then rolls them both over so that she’s on top of Chloe now. She slides her own hands under Chloe’s shirt and up until they reach her bra. She moves her lips away from her mouth to nip at her neck. She pulls back a little as her hand slides even higher.

“Is this too fast?” She asks, a little breathless.

“Becs, it’s been five years. I think we’ve waited long enough for each other.”

[heryellowcup]

hey! this is a kinky prompt, what if chloe was feeling really horny and decided to call beca just to hear her voice and help herself? so Chloe start making noices of satisfaction, beca suspects what's happening so the dj decides to help the redhead by making her voice hoarse, chloe does not suspects that beca knows what she's doing and after finished she hungs up embarrased, the end is maybe beca going to chloe's department to help her with more than her voice

oh boy, being asexual and writing smut is always an adventure! enjoy! ;) 

It wasn’t all that unusual for either Beca or Chloe to call the other right before they went to bed, sometimes even in the middle of the night. And they would always pick up, both of them knowing, without ever having told each other, just how important it was to them.

Beca was used to falling asleep with Chloe’s arms tightly wrapped around her and to wake up with their legs entangled and her face buried in the crook of the redhead’s neck. Just like Chloe was used to sleep with her personal teddy bear and heater. During their whole time at Barden they had always sneaked into each other’s rooms. At first only when they were too intoxicated to really think about it, but then it started happening after movie nights and finally on just regular nights too which meant they soon didn’t ever have to sleep without each other anymore. And while their nightly phone calls didn’t satisfy the need to have each other in their beds, it was still nice to hear each other’s voice. Beca’s heart almost bursting out of her chest whenever she heard Chloe giggle on the other side of the line. And oh did Chloe love when she just knew that Beca was smirking her famous Beca smirk or rolling her eyes playfully without even having to see her.

They would usually just talk for hours on end until one of them finally ended up falling asleep. Most of the time said person was Chloe, and Beca wouldn’t ever hang up without first making sure that Chloe really was asleep and then whispering a soft “goodnight” before finally allowing herself to get some sleep as well.

This night, however, was different.

They were talking about the same things they always did, but Beca soon noticed that Chloe’s breathing seemed to be somewhat labored. It was really subtle at first but Beca noticed it nonetheless, especially when Chloe started to sound more and more out of breath after a few minutes of them just talking about random things.

“Chlo, you okay?” Beca mumbled, kind of sleepily, as she lay in her bed, cuddled up under the covers and wishing Chloe was there to keep her warm, to hold her.

“Y-yeah…sure…” Chloe whispered huskily, confirming that something was definitely off about the way she was behaving that night. But Beca let it slide, writing it off to both her own and Chloe’s tiredness.

But then, just a few minutes later, she swore that she heard Chloe’s breath hitch in her throat, followed by a little whimper that literally made her stop talking in the middle of her sentence.

“Chlo, are you sure you’re alright?” Beca was really starting to get worried now. That was until she realized all of the little sounds Chloe kept making sounded oddly familiar, as if she’d heard them before. Maybe not from Chloe herself, but – another whimper then, louder, and Beca all of the sudden realized what exactly those little noises sounded like. And yes, she had definitely heard them before. Even made other people do them. Not Chloe, though. Maybe in her dreams.

But that couldn’t be it, right? Chloe couldn’t possible be doing…that while talking to Beca on the phone. But then this was Chloe. The same Chloe that had barged into her shower, completely naked, just a day after they had first met. She had even told her about her ‘lady jam’, and while Beca had been extremely overwhelmed in said situation, she couldn’t deny that she had revisited the incident many times in her bed at night.

But this felt a lot different somehow, a lot more intimate.

And god did she want to ask Chloe what she was doing in that moment. Wanted to hear her say it. Wanted Chloe to tell her that she was touching herself while she was on the phone with her best friend. She wanted to hear it out of Chloe’s mouth. It was so naughty and arousing that Beca probably could’ve orgasmed right then and there. And she never wanted Chloe to stop.

Which is why she decided not to ask. To just keep talking to Chloe until she found her release that she obviously needed so much.

And soon Beca was paying much more attention to Chloe’s voice than she ever had before, her tiredness long forgotten as she lay in her bed, anticipating and listening for every little change in Chloe’s voice, every little whimper, every moan. Moans that had started to become a little louder every now and then. Moans that Chloe was desperately trying to cover up with a cough, sometimes a yawn.

But Beca knew exactly what Chloe was doing and she wanted nothing more than to be there with her. To be the one touching her.

“How’s the new apartment?” She asked casually, not wanting the conversation to end. She needed it to go on. Needed to know that Chloe was going to be able to relieve herself.

“It’s… fuck it’s so good… so good…” Chloe whimpered and Beca guessed that the redhead had given up on being discrete. Or maybe she was just too far gone to even notice how obvious she was being. The latter was much more exciting for Beca to think about.

And then she had an idea. She didn’t want to be too obvious, but she wanted to help the other girl out. It was selfish, but she wanted to, in a way at least, be the one to push Chloe over the edge.

“That’s nice…mine’s so good too…” Beca whispered huskily, her voice a little lower and hoarser than it usually was.

And it seemed to do the trick because Beca could now hear sloppy sounds in the background and Chloe was positively panting on the other side of the line.

“Mhhh I like that it’s… fuck…” Chloe kept cursing under her breath. “It’s so close… so close… to yours…”

Beca let out a whimper herself, unable to hold It back. She wanted to be discrete, but it was impossible considering that the girl she had been crushing on for years, the girl that had been the focus of so many of her own fantasies, was pleasuring herself while she was talking to her.

“Well maybe I can come over tomorrow.” Beca whispered huskily, emphasizing the word ‘come’ in a sexy way. “I love coming… over.”

She was holding her breath in anticipation, her heart beating fast when all she heard was silence for a few seconds and she knew Chloe was going to come for her.

“I… oh god… Becs… Beca!” The silence was suddenly replaced by loud grunts and whimpers as Chloe was obviously coming and it made Beca’s stomach churn and her pussy clench to hear Chloe moan her name in such a beautiful way. She thought it might have been the most arousing thing she had ever heard in her life.

She didn’t know what to say after that, completely overwhelmed with all kinds of feelings, especially really inappropriate ones. But the silence didn’t last long, soon broken by the redhead who seemed to have calmed down again.

“I have to hang up.” Was all the other girl said before she did just that, and it kind of broke Beca’s heart for several reasons. One of them being the embarrassment she had clearly heard in Chloe’s voice.

Beca really didn’t know what she was doing when she suddenly got up and put on some proper clothes, making her way to the front door. Her head was so full of Chloe that she could barely think of anything else. She needed Chloe. She needed her now, and in whatever way possible.

She arrived at her apartment about fifteen minutes later and she couldn’t have been more thankful that they still lived this close together.

She took a deep breath, knocking on the door before she could change her mind and turn around again. She was nervous, obviously, not wanting Chloe to feel uncomfortable.

The redhead widened her eyes when she opened the door just a few seconds later and saw who was waiting for her on the other side, her face a dark shade of red already. To Beca’s amusement she was only wearing a robe.

“You better be naked under that,” she smirked smugly as she started to play with the collar of said robe.

Chloe was still speechless, her eyes growing even wider.

“Beca…I…what are you doing here?” She was chewing on her bottom lip, not really looking at the other girl.

But Beca had other plans and gently lifted the redhead’s chin up, making her look at her. “Do you have any idea what you just did to me?” She whispered huskily.

She started to gently push Chloe inside of the apartment so she could close the door behind them. “Do you?”

Chloe shook her head no, completely overwhelmed and embarrassed. Beca knew that she had touched herself while talking to her on the phone and she just wanted to crawl into a hole, afraid that Beca was disgusted.

She didn’t expect what happened next, because the DJ casually grabbed her hand and placed it between her own legs. “Do you feel what you did to me? How wet you made me?”

Chloe gasped when she could feel just how wet the other girl was, even through her pants. And she wasn’t even surprised to feel herself get just as aroused all over again.

She just opened her mouth to say something when Beca pressed her lips on her own and they both stumbled against the wall behind them as they made out heavily. It was obvious that they were both eager for each other’s touch.

“Why are you here?” Chloe eventually mumbled against Beca’s lips between kisses, making the brunette chuckle.

“Isn’t that obvious? I’m here to help you with more than just my voice.”

[blt-prf]

HIM - Chapter 11 (Nevermind) | Ao3

"Jungkook?" Yoongi sleepily asks, holding his phone with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other as he looks at the time. It's too dark to see but, from the clear sky outside and the sun beginning to rise, he supposes it must be really fucking late.  

Or early, depending on the point of view.

"No, it's Yoongi. Namjoon fell asleep," he quietly says, glancing towards the bed, poorly illuminated by his computer. Namjoon shifts in his sleep. "What do you mean Jimin hasn't been home in four days?" Yoongi asks, stopping dead in his tracks. "What? He moved where? Jungkook," he then calls in a tone that's more worried than demanding. "Wait, who's gonna hate you? Tae? Why would Tae–okay, calm down."

"Who's that?" Namjoon mumbles, forcing his eyes to open, but Yoongi just blurts out a quick 'Jungkook' before gesturing for him to go back to sleep.

"Have you asked Tae?" he then asks, starting to sound less calm with every word. "Of course you two fought again," he then sighs, running a hand through his hair, as if he was expecting it even before asking.

"Who fought?" Namjoon mumbles again against his pillow. "Tae and Kook?" he throws in his best guess and Yoongi nods a bit.

"No, Seok didn't tell me anything. We... We haven't really talked," Yoongi admits, sighing again. "Yeah, we were thinking of staying in Daegu for a few more days. Yeah, just... no, we can come back, it's no big deal," Yoongi says, rubbing his eyes as he stares at the unfinished song on his computer. "He's not answering his phone either?" he asks, followed by another sigh. "Go sleep at Jin's place or something and I'll figure something out. Yeah, just go get some sleep, okay?"

"What's wrong?" Namjoon asks as he sits up straight and squints at the light coming from Yoongi's computer.

"Nothing's wrong, Joon, go back to sleep," Yoongi quietly replies, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"Is Jimin okay?" Namjoon asks instead.

"I don't know," Yoongi says in a quiet voice, almost like a whisper.

"I thought Jungkook was in Busan," Namjoon then says, yawning.

"Just came back. Dropped by Jimin's place and some neighbor of his told him that Jimin hasn't been home in a while."

Namjoon just blankly stares into the distance before yawning again.

"Weird," he then comments in a way too calm voice, at least in Yoongi's opinion.

"Jungkook was freaking out," he tells Namjoon. "Went on about how Jimin moved to another city because of him and isn't coming back and–are you even listening to me?"

"I talked with Jin a few hours ago," Namjoon calmly speaks as he tries to find a more comfortable position to lay in. "He said that Jimin had helped him at the café this morning," he casually announces, followed by another yawn, "and that he dyed his hair blonde or something."

"Jin dyed his hair?" Yoongi asks, suspiciously raising an eyebrow.

"No, Jimin did," Namjoon clarifies, going silent for a while. "Nevermind, I must've dreamed everything," he then says.

"Pretty sure you did," Yoongi sighs, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair.

"Where are you going? You haven't gotten any sleep," Namjoon reminds him.  

"I can't just do nothing."

"So walking around in another city, at this hour, is gonna help?" Namjoon asks, reaching for Yoongi's wrist and pulling him towards the bed. "Don't be stupid," he says and Yoongi hesitantly lets his jacket fall out of his hands.

"Joon, you should've heard him. He sounded so worried."

"So what are you going to do?" Namjoon asks and Yoongi goes silent. "Anyway, shouldn't you worry about your own problems first?" he asks and Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, closing it without letting a word out. "What's the thing about you and Hoseok not talking?"

"Nothing."

"You would've told me if it was just nothing, " Namjoon says, slightly amused. "But you didn't," he points out.

"Because I didn't wanna talk about it. Because I didn't want this to happen, and now it's happening, and I hate it.

"What'd you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything," Yoongi says, sounding defensive. "He's seeing some guy."

"The one from his dance team?" Namjoon asks but Yoongi doesn't reply. "I don't like him."

"Hoseok does."

"Just cause he's all tall and has abs," Namjoon sighs. "He never even liked guys like that." Yoongi doesn't reply. "I bet he'll dump him in less than a month," Namjoon says as he watches Yoongi stand up. "Where do you think you're going?" he asks in a warning tone.

"Let me at least save the changes," Yoongi mumbles as he saves another copy of the song on his computer. "It sounds better with your voice at the end," he then quietly adds, as if embarrassed to say it out loud.  

"I told you," Namjoon yawns again, "give that one line at the end to Hoseok and it's done." Yoongi bites his lower lip as he thinks of it. "Have you let Jimin listen to it?" he then asks and Yoongi shakes his head in response.

"Not until it's finished," he says-the usual perfectionist. "But he seemed to like the title," he says with a faint smile. Silence then settles in.

"I'm sure he's fine and Jungkook's just overreacting," Namjoon says. Yoongi hopes he's right.

"Jimin seems to have this tendency of disappearing whenever things get too much," he remembers Taehyung telling him one night.  

"Where does he go?" Yoongi had asked.

"Don't know," Taehyung admitted. "Anywhere he can be alone. He just leaves without a word because he's convinced that, if he's far away, his problems won't be able to follow."

"I'm like that too," Yoongi then said and Taehyung smiled a bit, nodding. He always thought the two of them were pretty similar.

"But when you're angry, you snap at everyone," Taehyung said, "he just goes quiet until he can't take it anymore, and then he bursts. And it kinda sucks, you know? Cause I'm his best friend and he should talk to me, but he never does."

Yoongi wonders how Namjoon can drift back to sleep almost immediately like that. He overthinks until exhaustion gets the best of him and he falls asleep without even realizing it.

Jungkook collapses on his bed as soon as he steps into his room, shoes still on and luggage forgotten somewhere at the entrance. He glances at the time once, twice, and then closes his eyes with a deep sigh.

He's not sure how much time has passed when he gets out of the shower, but he makes up his mind and gets himself presentable in case Taehyung’s parents are home. And, as he's about to close the door, he turns back to grabs his skateboard-in case Taehyung’s just as bored as he is, he tells himself, or in case he's down because Jimin left. Down might be an understatement, actually, and Jungkook might be the last person Taehyung would want to see at the moment, but he'll think about it later.

His mind is too cloudy for him to realize that he's already reached Taehyung's house until he has to abruptly break in order to avoid flying his skateboard into a trash bin which, Jungkook swears, appeared in front of him out of nowhere. He stops in front of the way too familiar door he's never felt so much anxiety standing in front of before. Long minutes of hesitation later he rings the doorbell, his heart pacing up at the sound of light sound of steps getting closer to it because what if Taehyung's still mad about the whole conversation they had at Jimin's place? Jungkook didn't even properly say goodbye to him back then and Taehyung didn't text him once ever since. Countless thoughts flood his mind, mostly about Jimin and about the last time they spoke over text, back when Taehyung was apparently waking up all of his neighbors with his ridiculous song, about Jimin's picture that Jungkook stared too long at for it to be meaningless and about how Jungkook never really got himself to ask Jimin whether he was fine or not, whether he was at home or at someone else's place, or wondering on some unknown streets and whether or not he was leaving. And part of that was because, deeply inside, Jungkook thought that Jimin would've stayed.  

Hoped he would've stayed.  

Maybe he would have if Jungkook had treated him better. If he mattered enough, he would've definitely convinced Jimin to at least think about it twice. And if he accepted Hoseok's stupid offer from the very start and got Jimin's number, he would have properly gotten to know him, and maybe they'd be friends now.  

And then, if only Jungkook had admitted that he was starting to like Jimin, maybe things would be different now.

If even one of these things went otherwise, he wouldn't be in front of Taehyung's door now, apologies ready to spill because, deeply inside, he knows it's his fault too.

"Oh, when'd you get back?"

The question startles Jungkook at first, forcing him to wake up to reality and react.

"A few hours ago," he answers after long seconds of silence and confusion, part of it because he's not sure how much time passed ever since he got home and another part because he has to remind himself to breathe again, because Jimin is right there, in front of him, breathing and smiling and making Jungkook feel a lot of things all at once. And Jungkook doesn't know whether he's relieved, or happy, or confused, or all at once, but it's just a lot.

"Tae's taking a shower," Jimin says, oblivious to it all as he motions for him to get inside. Jungkook still struggles to process everything in his mind, which proves to be really hard because Jimin's constantly running his hand through his hair, brushing blonde strands away from his eyes, and the red ripped shirt Jungkook recognizes as Taehyung’s keeps falling off his shoulder, and it's more distracting than Jungkook would like to admit. “He should get out soon though. He's been in there forever and I was getting bored to death," Jimin then says, pouting a bit and making Jungkook smile because the Jimin he remembers couldn't shut up about how busy he always was.

"You've been staying here?" he finally gets himself to ask and Jimin nods happily in response. Jungkook doesn't know why he smiles in response when everything he wants to do is curse because of what Jimin made him go through.

"Tae's parents are away on a trip so he convinced me to stay here for a few days," he says, opening the door to Taehyung’s room where Jungkook recognizes a few of Jimin’s things lying around. The latter then picks up his glasses from Taehyung's nightstand and puts them on, sitting cross-legged on the bed and looking at Jungkook with big and innocent eyes.  

"Could've told me?" Jungkook suggests, although part of him knows that he has no right to demand it. "Or replied to my texts."

"I kind of forget to look at my phone when I'm with Tae," he says, and Jungkook laughs in disbelief.  

"For three days?" he asks but Jimin just guiltily smiles back. "You must really like making people worried," he then mumbles, mostly to himself.

"Aw, you were worried," Jimin coos. "Missed me that much?" he then asks, and Jungkook doesn't know whether the tone of his voice is hopeful or cocky, or whatever, because the mere sight of Jimin right now it a lot to take in.

"Yeah, keep believing that," he laughs.

"You could've given me a call. You have my number for a reason, y'know?" Jimin laughs a bit, ignoring Jungkook's 'you always put it on airplane mode' to go on with his rambling. "You know, other than asking me how to get grass stains off your white tees at 3am-"

“That was one time.”

“-or sending me ugly pics of you whenever I leave for work?”

“It's not my fault that you wake up when I enter my first REM cycle," Jungkook scoffs. "You’ve never complained about my ugly pics before.”

“Blackmail material,” Jimin explains. “Even if you only take them cause you know you’re hot.”

“You just called me hot,” Jungkook points out.

“Unintentionally. Shut up.”

“Didn’t know you’d miss my face that much,” Jungkook teases this time and Jimin rolls his eyes.  

"You're the one who was worried. And you're the one who used to have a crush on this face,” Jimin says, pointing at himself.

“I thought we agreed not to bring that up again?"

“Yeah, whatever,” Jimin says, a smile still lingering on his face and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off it. It takes him a while to realize that looking that way and for that long at someone he supposedly hates isn't socially acceptable unless he has a valid reason for it. So when Jimin catches him staring-he lost count of how many times it's happened already-and innocently asks "do I have something on my face?" Jungkook finds himself shaking his head and blurting out the first thing that comes to his mind.

"I was finally starting to get used to your black hair."

"Could've just lied and told me I looked nice," Jimin sighs, wondering why he was expecting something else from Jungkook in the first place.

"Eh...I guess," Jungkook says in a nonchalant way, like he doesn't have to remind himself to breathe every twenty seconds. "I mean, you had plenty of other choices-"

"I'll never dye it red again, get over it, Jungkook," Jimin immediately clarifies.

"Won't even consider it?" Jungkook asks in a hopeful tone.

"It seriously looks that bad?" Jimin asks, laughing a bit, and Jungkook hates that type of laugh because everything he wants right now is to tell Jimin that he looks breathtaking–even more than usual-and that his hair is fine, and that he is fine, and okay Jungkook's mind is going places and maybe he should stop before he blurts out something stupid again. "Tae says he likes it but I'm starting to suspect that he just doesn't want to hurt my feelings," Jimin laughs again, spotting a beanie of Taehyung's near him and reaching for it. "Better?" he asks after pushing his hair back and putting it on.

"It's three hundred degrees outside, take it off," Jungkook says, and Jimin reluctantly does as told, messy strands of hair now falling over his eyes. "It suits you," Jungkook then quietly says, wondering why it sounds as if it's supposed to be a secret.

"What's that? A compliment from Jeon Jungkook himself?" Jimin asks and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

"Shocking, right?"

"You hardly ever say things like this," Jimin points out, "and you're saying them to me."

"It really suits you."

"Stop it," Jimin laughs. "I can't get used to you like this."

"You look good," Jungkook purposefully says with a smile.

"Stop it," Jimin repeats, throwing the beanie at him.

"Give me a few days to get used to it and I might like it more than the red," Jungkook blurts out and Jimin breaks into one of those smiles that has his eyes almost fully closed.

"Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" Jimin asks.

"Want me to go back to how I was when we first met?"

"No," Jimin quickly replies, soon breaking into another smile. "Busan air does weird things to you. You should leave more often," he jokes. "Actually, don't. Tae gets really lonely without you," he then says and the conversation falls into silence. Jungkook tears his gaze away from Jimin's face to guiltily stare at his own hands. "He said you two had a fight,” Jimin hesitantly says after a while. “Didn’t actually say it but I figured out.”

"We just don't agree with each other's love choices," Jungkook says, remembering the last time they talked.

"What if he falls for you?" Taehyung had asked at the time, sounding terrified.

“Talk to him," Jimin says. "He's been sulking ever since you left. And then I fought with him too and worsened everything," he adds, words trailing off towards the end.

"Why'd you fight?" Jungkook asks and Jimin hesitates a bit before speaking.

"It's just how things go when you live together for a long time. You can't always get along," he laughs a bit and Jungkook wonders if he lived with Taehyung before, for long enough to say that. "You knew about it?" Jimin quietly asks after a while. "That he was just messing around with some guy while I was going crazy worrying about him?"

"Figured out later," Jungkook confesses and Jimin lets out a deep breath.

"I'm an idiot," he mumbles. "I'm such an idiot. Canceled everything last minute and even accepted to come stay with him, and I didn't even have a reason for being worried in the first place."

"Canceled what?" Jungkook hesitantly asks and Jimin realizes what he just said.

"Nothing," he mumbles, trying to brush it off.

"I know you were going to leave," Jungkook blurts out and he should really learn how to shut up before It's too late, although Jimin doesn't seem surprised, Jungkook notices, which is weird. What's even weirder is that Jimin averts his gaze, pressing his lips into a tight smile before speaking.

“Knew you weren't just being nice to me without a reason.”

“That's not why-” Jungkook quickly replies but Jimin doesn’t look like he believes him. “Okay, maybe,” Jungkook then quietly confesses and Jimin laughs a bit. Yes, Jungkook felt guilty and tried to make up for it by being unusually kind to Jimin. No, it didn't exactly work, but at least Jimin's still here, right? That's all that matters now. The fact that Jimin most definitely thinks that Jungkook is a complete idiot, selfish and pathetic on top of that now is something he'll have to deal with later.

“So you’re gonna go back to being an asshole now that I’m staying?”

“You’re staying?” Jungkook asks, a bit quicker than he intended.

“Disappointed?” Jimin simply asks back.

“Relieved,” Jungkook blurts out and Jimin stares at him in silence.

"Don't tell Tae," he silently begs.

"That you were gonna leave again without a word?" Jungkook asks and Jimin starts fidgetting with the hem of his shirt. "Jimin..." Jungkook sighs, "that's not how it works. You gotta talk to him."

"You say that but you haven't texted him in two weeks," Jimin mutters back.

"I was away," Jungkook blurts out as the best excuse he can find.  

"If he wasn't so down about fighting with you I wouldn't have come here in the first place," Jimin then says.

"So it's my fault?" Jungkook asks, smiling a bit.

"It will be if I end up regretting staying," Jimin replies.  

"Are you regretting it right now?" Jungkook asks, not really wanting to hear a reply.

Before any of them can say anything else, Taehyung opens the door, hair dripping on the towel around his shoulders and a bowl of cereals in his hand. Jungkook has time to notice this much before said towel is flying towards his face.

“Missed you too,” he says with a smirk, expression immediately changing into one of annoyment when he feels Taehyung's weight on top of him. “You’re dripping on my shirt, get off.”

“Shh,” Taehyung simply says, hugging him tighter. Jimin just laughs next to them, apparently enjoying Jungkook’s suffering.

“Seriously, Tae,” Jungkook laughs too now, voice sounding gentler, “you’re crushing m–don’t you fucking dare tickle me!”

“I can’t win with my strength and this is your only weakness,” Taehyung complains as he retreats, pouting a bit.

"Put something on,” Jungkook says, menacing tone changed to a sweeter one. "I can’t take you seriously like this."

“Jealous?” Taehyung asks as he turns around to face him, patting his tummy a few times. Jungkook laughs incredulously.  

“A bit,” he says, making Taehyung smile widely.  

"It's too hot," Taehyung whines, ruffling his hair a bit.

"That's why you were taking a shower at fuck you o'clock?" Jungkook asks, amused. "Didn't even think I'd find you awake at this hour."

"Got up early," Taehyung replies. Jungkook just raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "Okay, Jimin locked himself in my room and refused to let me in," Taehyung confesses with a sigh.  

"It wasn't even locked," Jimin quietly protests, fixing his glasses with a finger.  

"You're just really scary when you're angry and I didn't wanna come in," Taehyung corrects himself.

"Whose fault is it that I'm angry?" Jimin asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

"And whose fault is it that you can't tell a bruise from a hickey apart?" Taehyung asks back.

"Do you know how worried I was?" Jimin asks, exasperation in his voice.  

"There are worse things in the word other than me getting laid, Jimin."

"I thought someone had hurt you!"

"Well, shouldn't you be happy that you were wrong then?" Jimin just lets out a frustrated groan at the words and pushes himself up, walking towards the door. "You know, you could talk to me instead of getting pissed and leaving every time," Taehyung says, but Jimin just slams the door closed in response.

"You're just gonna let him leave like that?" Jungkook asks, slightly confused about the whole situation.

"It's fine," Taehyung mumbles, taking a spoon of cereal. "He's not going anywhere barefoot," he says, pointing at Jimin's shoes.

"Want me to talk to him?" Jungkook asks after a while, but Taehyung just laughs a bit in response.

"And tell him what?" he asks, mouth still full. "To be a decent fucking friend and talk to me?" he says, smiling a bit to himself, and Jungkook knows that it's not a genuine type of smile. "Or play the hero and get him to fall for your irresistible face and decent personality?" he asks in a quieter voice.

"You're still mad about that?" Jungkook asks, not really knowing why because the answer's obvious.

"Just disappointed you'd do something like that to piss me off. Or prove a point. Or both," Taehyung sighs. "I don't know what's going in your head."

"What if I told you that it has nothing to do with you?" Jungkook hesitantly asks.

"Then you're doing it to get over Yugyeom and Jimin's the easiest to target because he'll just fall for anyone who's nice to him?" Taehyung asks and Jungkook just stares back at him in disbelief because how can it even cross his mind? "Stop messing around before it's too late. We both it's gonna end up with you getting scared when it all gets too serious," he blurts out and Jungkook goes silent. Taehyung doesn't know why he says something so stupid, but he supposes that part of it is the summer heat and all that build up stress that doesn't seem to go away even though school's over, and another part is knowing both Jimin and Jungkook too well, and knowing that he has every reason to worry. "Go talk to him, or whatever," Taehyung then sighs, slumping down into the bed and picking up his phone to focus his attention elsewhere. "Do whatever you want. I don't care."

Jungkook wishes he cared.

He finds Jimin outside, sitting on the doorsteps with one hand buried in his hair and gaze stuck on his feet. They don't speak, but Jungkook quietly sits next to him and reaches inside the pocket of his jacket, silently extending one arm. The act is way too familiar to Jimin, and it doesn't take him long to recognize the cigarette brand. Just one will be no big deal, he tells himself, taking the pack and opening it with impatience only to find out that it's empty.

"I hate you," he breathes out, throwing it back at an amused Jungkook, aiming more at his face than at his hands.

"I can't believe you were gonna start smoking again because of a stupid fight."

"Shut up," Jimin mutters. "Why do you even carry an empty pack around?" he asks, sounding irritated.

"Cause I smoked my last one the night at the pool," Jungkook says and Jimin looks both proud and annoyed. "And you carry a lighter around although you quit a long time ago, so you're in no position to ask that," Jungkook adds before Jimin can even think of saying something.

"This isn't about me."

"Everything's about you."

"Shut up."

"Don't wanna," Jungkook says with an annoying smile. "Get inside."

"Don't wanna," Jimin childishly repeats, imitating his voice.

"You know that I'm stronger than you, right?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Jimin asks, oblivious.

"You can either calmly walk inside, on your own two feet, or be dragged in there by force," Jungkook explains with a smile.

"You wouldn't," Jimin laughs and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in response because is Jimin challenging him?

"Jimin has something to tell you," Jungkook announces and Taehyung just stares back unimpressed as Jimin dangles off his shoulder.

"I don't," he says, voice muffled by Jungkook's jacket.

"Yes, you do," Jungkook decides, effortlessly putting him down.

"Your best friend is an idiot," Jimin says in a serious tone while accusingly pointing at Jungkook.

"He throws me around when I make him angry," Taehyung says, already used to it, and Jimin turns around to glare at Jungkook.

“Talk to him,” the latter simply says, nudging Jimin with his elbow before leaning on the door frame. "You too," he then says, pointing at Taehyung with his gaze. "I'm not leaving until you sort things out."

"This is dumb," Jimin feels the need to comment. Jungkook simply shrugs.

"I'm desperate."

“You first,” Taehyung decides when he realizes that Jungkook is completely serious and has no intention of leaving, and Jimin hesitantly walks to the bed, sitting cross legged on the edge of it to face Taehyung and nervously swinging from side to side. He takes a quick glance at Jungkook, who has both earphones in and is busy scrolling through his playlist before sighing loudly.

"Remember when I moved here and you were really mad?" he asks, bursting out laughing when Taehyung glares at him. "Okay, let me start again. Remember when I moved here and told you that I wouldn't have stayed for long?" he asks this time and Taehyung nods a bit, swallowing hard. "I was supposed to take care of some legal stuff, since I was 18 and all, and dad couldn't take care of it in my place," Jimin quietly carries on. "Also kind of wanted to sort things out with you, so I said I'd move here and wait until it was all over and go to school in the meantime, since it was gonna take a while," Jimin says, words slowly getting quieter. "And dad said transferring schools wouldn't have been a problem because he'd take care of it all, and then...everything got solved quicker than I thought..."

"He told you to go back to Busan?" Taehyung asks when Jimin goes silent, getting a small nod in response. He lets out some sort of understanding hum but Jimin knows how hurt he must me by the words. "All of a sudden?"

"Last month," Jimin confesses and Taehyung lets out an 'ah...' that sounds both disappointed and understanding.

"You're gonna go back to the Academy or move to another school?" he then asks, trying to seem composed.

"I'm not going anywhere, dumbass. I'm staying," Jimin confesses.  

"Why?" Taehyung asks confused.

"I like it here."

"You don't."

Jimin stays quiet for a while.

"I have you here," he then says, "and Hobi. And everyone else. So it's fine," Jimin assures him.

"What if you're gonna regret it?" Taehyung asks and Jimin shrugs a bit.

"I thought about it a lot, you know?" Jimin confesses. "I kept thinking over and over and then...the night at the pool..."

"Changed your mind?" Taehyung asks and, when Jimin nods in response, he can't help but break into the cutest rectangular grin. "You love us," he says, ignoring Jimin's muffled 'shut up' which later becomes 'get off' when Taehyung hugs him. Jungkook smiles a bit at the scene before going back to his phone.

"I didn't know you were worried about me," Taehyung guiltily confesses after a while.

"It's my fault. I should've talked to you about it instead of assuming..." Jimin replies.

"But, in my defense," Taehyung says, brightly showing Jimin his hand and the almost unnoticeable bruises on his knuckles, "I did fall off my skateboard."

"Because you're terrible at it," Jungkook singsongs from the opposite side of the room.

"Hey, I thought you were listening to music," Taehyung accusingly says.

"The song just ended," Jungkook replies, beginning to mouth what Taehyung supposes are the lyrics of the new song.

"Tell me if you're struggling," Taehyung says, facing Jimin again and pouting a bit as he speaks. "Just stop doing things on your own like you're supposed to go through it all alone."

"Look who's talking," Jimin laughs, "you always make everyone worry over you."  

"That's just you."

“Jungkook thinks so too,” Jimin protests. “He always says that the hardest thing for him is seeing you all struggle.”

"Do you know what I'm struggling the most with right now?" Taehyung then asks. "That the seven of us can't get along. We keep having fights over insignificant stuff", Taehyung says, "like, Hoseok and Yoongi. And then you and Jungkook."

"We get along now," Jimin says.

"Yeah, sure," Taehyung quietly comments, laughing a bit.

"Why does everyone think that we hate each other?" Jimin then groans in frustration. "We don't," he clarifies and Taehyung just raises an eyebrow at the statement. "We talked about it," Jimin confesses. "Kind of. I was busy trying not to throw up, but we talked about it," he then admits, but Taehyung's still trying to figure out whether it's a joke or not. Before he can ask, Jimin grabs his beanie-Taehyung wonders why it was on the floor in the first place-and throws it at Jungkook, successfully making him look up with a death glare.

"What?" he asks, visibly annoyed as he takes one earphone out.

"Tell him that we're friends now," Jimin demands.

"If you suddenly caught fire and I had water-" Jungkook starts.

"You'd put the fire out with your tears because the thought of living without me is too painful," Jimin interrupts him, turning to Taehyung before Jungkook can say something else. "See? We get along just fine," he says, smiling widely.

In the next few days, Taehyung realizes that Jimin was completely serious. Worry starts to creep up inside of him when he realizes that Jungkook might have been, too.

"You should change his contact name already," Jungkook quietly says when he accidentally glances at Taehyung's phone. "I thought you had deleted his number."

"I did," Taehyung quietly admits. Jungkook wants to ask whether he knew it by heart but stops himself. Taehyung wouldn't even bother to tell the truth, he thinks, not with Jimin in the same room. "Tae..." Jungkook groans as his phone thankfully lands on a pillow that fell on the floor earlier. "How many times do I have to tell you... You're gonna break me one day."

"Tae..." Jungkook groans as his phone thankfully lands on a pillow that fell on the floor earlier. "How many times do I have to tell you... You're gonna break me one day."

"I'm not that heavy," Taehyung protests, wrapping his arms around Jungkook's waist, further crushing him.  

"You are," Jungkook groans again, trying in vain to turn around under Taehyung's weight.  

"That's not what you say when you throw me around," Taehyung says, getting up with a defeated sigh. "When's Hoseok getting here? I'm bored," he whines, lazily looking around the room for something to do. "Let's teach Jimin how to skateboard," he then blurts out.

"I know how to already," Jimin protests.

"Barely," Taehyung mumbles.

"I'm better than you," Jimin confidently says.

"There's only one way to find out," Jungkook happily exclaims as he jumps on his feet and expectantly looks at Jimin.

"But it's raining," Jimin groans.

"It's barely drizzling," Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. "And unless you send my skateboard into every single puddle you can find, like someone did last year," Jungkook says, giving Taehyung the look, "it should be fine."

"I bought you a new one," Taehyung guiltily mumbles as Jimin sighs deeply on the bed.

"You can calmly walk on your feet," Jungkook tells him, smiling mischievously, "or..."

"I'll walk, thank you very much," Jimin says, pushing himself up.

If Jungkook had to pinpoint the exact moment it all began, it would probably be this one, or maybe when he admitted that he didn’t want Jimin to leave, or maybe even earlier, when he was disappointed at the thought that Jimin had left already.  

Yoongi disagrees, always does, by saying that Jungkook’s madness started a long way ago, before all the teasing and all the “fated encounters”, as Namjoon calls them, since back when Jimin transferred.  

“This city’s fucking tiny and we go to the same school, of course we’d bump into each other the whole time,” Jungkook always protests.

“That, or it could be fate,” Namjoon says as he flips another page of the book Taehyung took with him but didn't actually get to open.

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook laughs. “Like 'hey, I thirst followed you and we accidentally met in real life’ type of fate.”

“More like 'hey, I used to pretend that I had a crush on you to make Tae angry but now that I met you in real life I definitely do’ type of fate.”

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Okay,” Namjoon easily gives up.

“I said I didn’t,” Jungkook insists.

"Are you trying to convince us or yourself?" Namjoon asks.

“Maybe if he repeats that enough times, it’ll come true,” Seokjin laughs and Jungkook glares at him. "Come on, Jungkook, it went from you wanting to punch him whenever he breathed to you teaching him how to skateboard. That's pretty drastic."

"You hate it when people touch your skateboard," Namjoon feels the need to point out. "So, not to jump to conclusions, but that must mean something."

"You're just both acting weird," Yoongi mumbles before Jungkook can even open his mouth to protest. Yoongi knows he was going to protest. "Ever since you started hanging out for the stupid dance competition. At night," Yoongi then stresses. "Without telling us a thing. And then took the blame for him."

"That's-" Jungkook starts.

"Does Jimin even know about it?" Yoongi suddenly wonders.  

"Even before that," Namjoon disagrees before Jungkook can reply, "when you skipped classes with ridiculous excuses and accidentally met him on the roof for God knows what reasons," Namjoon says, sounding unsure about the "accidentally" part.  

Jungkook's glad neither of them know about his-horrible-dates at the restaurant, and simply sighs in response. Deep inside, if he really had to pinpoint the exact moment everything started, he knows it would be way before Jimin transferred, way before he started appearing on magazine covers and advertising ads and way before Jungkook started seeing him on every single social network imaginable. Namjoon often talks about the Butterfly effect, and Jungkook often thinks about it. He knows that the cause of the hurricane that is Jimin started way before all of that and, if he had to mark it on a map, it would probably be in LA, back when he didn't even know who Jimin was, because Jungkook wasn't even sure he liked dancing at the time. If only he had quit back then, as he intended to before his roommate at the time did everything in order to convince him not to, maybe this all wouldn't be happening right now. Or maybe Jungkook's tiny butterfly flapped its fragile wings even earlier, maybe in another place-maybe in Busan, during his (their) entrance exam at the Academy, but Jungkook's not sure about it because he barely has any memories left of that day. And now that he thinks of it, maybe Namjoon's right whenever he says that people tend to remove painful memories-not like Jungkook ever doubted him-because he's sure he would've remembered seeing Jimin that day if he wasn't so busy being miserable for not getting accepted and making plans of going far, far away. He was convinced that a flight to LA would've helped him find happiness. He didn't know that by leaving everything behind he had also left that part of him that loved dancing more than everything else. 

"Remember when I was in LA and called you crying one night because I wanted to quit dancing?" Jungkook quietly asks. 

"I pulled and all nighter while trying to convince you that it was a stupid decision," Namjoon says, smiling a bit.  

"And you couldn't," Jungkook mumbles. He had booked a flight to Korea the next day. 

"Because you changed your mind later and didn't need me to convince you anymore," Namjoon says. "Why are you asking?"

"No reason," Jungkook lies. "It's just that you're always right," he then quietly says, being honest this time. "About everything. You're always right in the end."

Namjoon just smiles widely at that and Jungkook thinks that maybe he'll tell him the truth one day. About him and Jimin, and how it all started even before Jungkook could decide whether or not he wanted him to be part of his life.

Namjoon's gaze is now fixed on the pages of the book he's holding, analyzing some impressionist painting that's rather hard to decipher even for Jungkook. Yoongi’s too busy fumbling through his camera settings to notice Jungkook spacing out, mumbling something about how the documentary was the worst idea he ever came up with and suppressing a few curse words.

“Then why are you still doing it?” Jungkook asks.

“I told you already,” Yoongi says in a serious tone as he struggles to get a nice shot, “this won’t last forever,” he says as he watches Jimin through the camera lens. He sits on the asphalt after yet another failed attempt to do a trick that Taehyung desperately begins to explain it all over, and Yoongi can't help but smile a bit, followed by sudden curses as the shot comes out with the wrong amount of luminosity. "Anyway, didn't we agree not to break in here again?" he asks as he looks around. The pool looks nicer by day, he briefly thinks. "Not like I'm complaining, I could get some really good shots here."

“Does your documentary have any theme except for the dumb shit we do which may or may not be illegal most of the times?" Jungkook asks, taking a glance at the sky, and Yoongi does the same as he thinks.

"Youth?" he then replies in a slightly questioning tone. “I mean, isn't this supposed to be the most beautiful moment in life?"

"Cliché," Jungkook comments.

"Not if it's gonna be about us," Yoongi says, laughing a bit. "I want it to start with us running,” he adds while smiling, as if saying it out loud sounds ten times more ridiculous than it did in his head. "With my mixtape as background music," he says, bursting out laughing and ignoring Namjoon's "release it first and then we'll see".

"Running away from what?” Jungkook asks.

“Just running."

“You never do stuff that doesn't have hidden meanings,” Jungkook accuses.

“I just like running,” Yoongi protests but Jungkook simply laughs at the words.

“You hate running. And sweating. And moving. Breathing makes you tired."

“If I hadn’t hurt my shoulder, I’d be better than you now,” Yoongi simply replies, as if the words have no effect on him anymore.

“Shut up," Jungkook laughs. “If you present it, you’re gonna fail."

"You haven’t even started the project yet,” Namjoon then reminds him.  

“It's not that easy," Yoongi then says. "He needs a muse," he mumbles, taking a sip from his drink.

"What muse?" Namjoon distractedly asks, still busy looking at the pictures, but Yoongi's sudden serious tone makes him tear his gaze away from the book.

"See that?" Yoongi asks while indicating a painting from it. "It's Da Vinci."

"That man's Michelangelo," Jungkook says in a slightly questioning tone. Yoongi stares at him in silence for a few seconds before speaking again.

"It's Michelangelo drawn by Da Vinci," he then blurts out.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Namjoon asks confused.

"All the great geniuses to ever exist had muses," Yoongi clarifies.

"Women?" Namjoon asks and Yoongi nods solemnly.

"Da Vinci was gay," Jungkook points out, to which Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh.

"You got the point. You need a muse. You've stopped drawing ever since you and Yugyeom broke up," Yoongi abruptly pauses, stopping himself from speaking further, "or whatever..."

"I have no time."

"You're the type to lose sleep over the things you love, so don't give me that bullshit," Yoongi accuses.

“What’s yours?” Jungkook asks after a while with a frown and Yoongi turns around confused. "Your muse," Jungkook clarifies.

“It’s different when I write songs and when I take pictures, ” Yoongi says, avoiding the question.  

“Jung Hoseok,” Namjoon coughs and Yoongi stops to glare at him, probably already writing a diss track dedicated to him in his head. “Why? Am I wrong?” Namjoon innocently asks. “They say you have to look at a photographer’s pictures to see what he's scared of losing,” he then says in that philosophical tone of his, but Yoongi doesn’t answer, eyes fixed on his phone screen. “You always take pictures of Hoseok.”

"You're really bad at it," Yoongi hears Jimin's voice, closer than it was before, and forces himself to smile a bit. Jungkook knows that it's because he'd hate to see Jimin sad, but it still amazes him how Yoongi can go from stone-cold to the gentlest soul alive. No human should have that much power over him, Jungkook decided back when it was established that Yoongi had the biggest soft spot ever for Jimin. "What?" Jimin asks, out of breath as he takes a sip from his drink.

"You're just really cute with your hair like this," Yoongi says and Jimin breaks into the brightest smile, mumbling a quick 'thanks', getting shy although Namjoon hasn't stopped reminding him how good the new color looked ever since they both came back from Daegu.

"You don't believe it when I say it," Jungkook scoffs, sounding hurt, and Jimin's too busy laughing at him to notice the look Namjoon gives them both.

"You sleeping at Tae's place tonight?" Yoongi asks and Jimin nods a bit in response. He hasn't gone back to his place yet, although he keeps complaining everyday, saying that he should leave already. None of them address it. "I'll drop by later then," Yoongi says, grabbing his jacket and standing up.

"You leaving already?" Jimin asks, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Important business, Jimin," Yoongi says and Jimin wonders when the phrase became a code for "don't ask".

"Okay," he still gives up with a sigh, pouting a bit as he looks away.  

"Say hi to Hoseok from me," Jungkook mumbles as Yoongi takes a few steps. Deep inside-really deep-he knows he deserves the middle finger Yoongi gives him.

“That’s funny to you?” Yoongi asks in disbelief as Hoseok laughs loudly at some lame joke the main character of the movie just made.  

“Yeah,” Hoseok happily answers, smile still lingering on his face.  

“That’s worse than Jin’s jokes.”

"You'd laugh too, if you weren't this grumpy," Hoseok says, poking his cheek. "What's wrong?" he brightly asks, with that tone he always uses when he doesn't want Yoongi to feel pressured to speak but at the same time wants him to know that he'll listen if Yoongi does speak.

"Nothing," Yoongi mumbles, and Hoseok just looks at him without saying a word, until Yoongi gives up with a sigh and mutters a low "everything".

"Talk to me?" Hoseok suggests, although some small voice in his head tells him that he has no right to demand that.

"You think it would help?" Yoongi asks, laughing a bit.

"No," Hoseok admits. "But you're constantly spacing out and you're probably worrying over something useless again."  

"Jimin's not useless," Yoongi mumbles and Hoseok sits up straight to look at him, waiting for an explanation which Yoongi doesn't have. "Why is he acting like this?" Yoongi then asks.

"Like what?"

"Like he's okay when he's not. Quitting his job, dying his hair..." Yoongi says, his words slowly trailing off.

"You've done them both countless times before," Hoseok points out.

"Yeah, but this is Jimin we're talking about, and it's nothing like him."

"You don't know how he used to be before."

"I do know," Yoongi protests. "He told me about it. That's why I'm asking. I though he didn't want to stand out and that's exactly what he's doing."

"He just doesn't care anymore," Hoseok says, shrugging a bit.

"Jimin cares. About a lot of things. Too much," Yoongi disagrees.

"He dyed his hair, it's not that deep," Hoseok sighs, but the sad expression won't leave Yoongi's face. "Listen...He said he's going to join the dance team when school starts. He's not leaving, everything's okay. Seriously."

"Leave where?" Yoongi asks confused, big puppy eyes and a forming frown on his face.

"Busan?" Hoseok says, as if stating the obvious. "He was going to move back but then changed his mind. Jungkook didn't tell you?"

"Jungkook called at six in the morning a few days ago, freaking out because Jimin hadn't been home and, according to him, moved to another city," Yoongi tells him. "I called him in the morning and he happily told me to forget everything. I could hear Tae and Jimin in the background so both me and Joon decided that he either must've been high or trying to prank us or something," Yoongi explains. "Why didn't neither of you say something? We could've thought about something," he then sighs.

"Because he's old enough to make decisions that regard his life?" Hoseok asks. "He's staying, so it doesn't matter anymore," he then quietly says. "If I told you something, you would've probably teamed up with Jungkook to try to come up with something in order to make him stay."

"Jungkook wanted Jimin to stay?" Yoongi can't help but ask with the same lost puppy eyes and frown from before.

"You really think he would've been happy if Jimin left?" Hoseok asks, laughing a bit. "How blind can you be?"

"They used to hate each other," Yoongi feels the need to remind him.

"So did I and Tae, and now we're fine. Amazing how time can change people and relationships, right?"

"It's different," Yoongi says.

"It's not," Hoseok immediately replies, sounding irritated, for some reason. It makes Yoongi think twice before opening his mouth again.

"You two never actually hated each other," he then says and Hoseok goes silent. "You were both just too fucking stubborn to admit that."

"So are they," Hoseok replies. "They're getting along now."

“And you’re so calm about it?”

“Why aren’t you?” Hoseok asks back, not really understanding why Yoongi’s overreacting.

“Is Jungkook trying to hit on Jimin?"

"...maybe."

"And Tae's okay with it?" Yoongi asks, watching as Hoseok simply averts his gaze and shrugs a bit.

"Jimin’s not interested."

"You didn’t reply to my question."

"It does bother him, but there’s not much he can do," Hoseok then sighs. "It’s fine as long as they're not fighting and we can all pretend that we're functional human beings, right?"

"Seok, I know they got closer cause they were forced to practice together for, what, two weeks? But that doesn’t change the fact that they couldn't stand one another even during that period."

“Well, that's clearly," Hoseok stresses, "not the case anymore. You saw how they acted the night at the pool," Hoseok says, not wanting to go deeper into details about that night. "Why are you so against it?"

"I'm not against it, I'm worried," Yoongi clarifies.

"They're mature enough to take care of it themselves," Hoseok says, and Yoongi can't help but sigh in defeat. “Just don’t think about it," he then adds and sometimes Yoongi thinks that even if Hoseok told him that the earth was flat, while looking at him this exact way, he would believe it without even questioning.

“Okay," Yoongi mumbles, gaze getting lost in too many thoughts.

“You're spacing out again," Hoseok points out, slightly amused.

“My brain can’t work when it’s too hot,” Yoongi replies and Hoseok sighs.  

“That’s not how you do it. You’re supposed to say that you can't think straight around me,” Hoseok says and Yoongi rolls his eyes because, apparently, Hoseok has to make everything into a flirting lesson.

“You wish,” he mutters under his breath, loud enough for Hoseok to hear.  

“What was that?” he laughs, crooking his head to one side and giving him a challenging smile. "Are you implying that I've never made you nervous before?”

“You’re so full of yourself, ” Yoongi says, smile staying on even when Hoseok slowly moves to straddle him.

“But you didn’t deny it?"

"Deny what?” Yoongi quietly asks, breath caught in his throat.  

“That, right now,” Hoseok whispers way to close to his ear, placing a kiss on his jaw, “your heart's beating like crazy because I'm this close,” he says, tracing lower with his lips as Yoongi inhales sharply.

“It's not,” Yoongi says-almost pants-as he buries his hand into Hoseok’s hair, feeling a puff of air on his shoulder in response.  

“Liar,” Hoseok laughs into his neck as he places a few kisses there, feeling Yoongi’s heartbeat under his fingertips when he slides one hand under his shirt. He briefly thinks about how Yoongi probably took it from his wardrobe at some point and didn't give back, and then he kisses him hard.

“It’s too hot,” Yoongi whines when he breaks away, weakly gripping Hoseok’s wrist, stopping him before they can go too far. They probably did already.

“So?” Hoseok asks nonetheless. It takes Yoongi a while to reply. He doesn’t even know why he’s stopping Hoseok.

“You’re heavy,” he groans.  

“Rude,” Hoseok says. Yoongi feels his bubbly laugh against his chest. “Wanna switch?” Hoseok then asks and Yoongi wonders how he can always be so composed.

“That’s not the problem.”

“And what is?”

“You,” Yoongi whispers and Hoseok sighs. “The night at the pool you said-”

“Forget what I said. I was drunk."

"Alcohol is a truth serum,” Yoongi says and Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Seok…”  

“It’s been too long."

"Three weeks. "

"Too long,” Hoseok repeats. “Stop pretending like this isn’t why you came over in the first place,” he laughs a bit, deeply inside hoping for Yoongi to deny it. “Stressful week?" he then asks. "Your new song isn't going well? Either that or you lost against Jungkook at basketball,” he teasingly says, aware that he's beginning to go overboard.

“What about you?” Yoongi cockily asks. “That one guy you like must be really bad at making you feel good if you came back to me.”

Hoseok doesn’t look at him.

“Yoongi, this is the last time,” he had said the night at the pool. “There's someone I like...”  

“Bullseye?” Yoongi asks, smiling knowingly at Hoseok’s frown. “Things aren't going well?”

“Shut up,” Hoseok says, burying his head into Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Did you even take him home?” he asks but Hoseok doesn’t reply. “Ask him out?” Yoongi tries this time, but Hoseok’s reply is nothing but silence this time too. “What’s gonna happen to your flirt king reputation now?" he laughs as Hoseok weakly pulls away from him, resting with his back against the wall and running a hand through his hair. “Just be yourself. Throw in a pickup line or two and he’ll be yours,” Yoongi suggests. Hoseok rolls his eyes again so Yoongi adds, “worked with me.”

“You were heartbroken and looking for someone to have fun with. It doesn’t count."

"I'm not heartbroken now," Yoongi blurts out.

"What are you trying to say?" Hoseok tentatively asks.

"That he doesn’t know what he’s missing out," Yoongi says, grabbing Hoseok by the front of his shirt and pulling him back on top of him to quickly steal a kiss, "and that you should forget him," he adds, making Hoseok frown a bit. "Anyone who hasn't fallen for your heart-shaped lips and freckle already isn't worth your time," Yoongi laughs, running his thumb over Hoseok's upper lip. He doesn't know why he does that, figures out he should stop but Hoseok doesn't seem to mind.

"You didn't even know I had a freckle until last month," he points out, but Yoongi simply laughs before placing a peck on top of it.  

"Never really paid attention to your mouth until that night we-"

“You just ruined it,” Hoseok says, rolling off Yoongi again with a sigh.

“What? The romantic atmosphere that wasn’t here to begin with?” Yoongi laughs, the breathless type that makes Hoseok's frown smooth out a bit. “Finish what you started.”

“I thought you were too hot for it," Hoseok teases.

"Yeah, but you’re hotter," Yoongi breathes out and Hoseok's frown immediately softens, eventually letting a smile appear instead of it.

"I taught you well," he then proudly says, leaning in and closing his eyes. And, maybe, if asked in a court of law, with his palm firmly pressed on top of the Bible, Yoongi would admit that deeply inside he knows they're not supposed to. And he would bet that Hoseok knows at least this much, but neither of them seem to care too much about it now.

"If you leave any marks–” Yoongi warns at some point, but Hoseok cuts him off with another kiss. Yoongi sighs at the feeling of the gentleness of Hoseok's fingers in his hair, his other hand probably leaving bruises on his thigh with the force. “If you leave any marks, you’re dead,” he says, trying to seem unaffected by the whole situation.  

“Okay,” Hoseok calmly replies, licking at the spot that’s probably already blooming in reds and purples, and then lightly pressing kisses all over Yoongi's neck. “Want me to stop?”  

“No,” Yoongi breathes out before he can stop himself, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

“You gotta be straightforward with me, y'know?” Hoseok reminds him. “I can’t read your mind.”

“Good,” Yoongi says, laughing a bit.

“I’m just saying that you have to give me a hand sometimes, cause I’m not good at figuring you out on my own,” Yoongi hears him say and Hoseok’s weight, Hoseok’s after shower scent and Hoseok’s fingertips in his hair just feel too good for Yoongi to realize what he’s trying to say. “So if I did something wrong, you have tell me,” Hoseok adds.

“You didn’t?” Yoongi asks instead of replying, looking at him that way that makes it seem like he’s genuinely confused.

“Then why are you suddenly acting like this?"  

"No reason,” and this time it's Yoongi who impatiently pulls Hoseok closer, kissing him hard and opting for silence. Hoseok pulls away in worry, hesitating a bit. Yoongi sighs. "Just got a lot on my mind," he mumbles and Hoseok silently lets him switch them over and place kisses all over his chest.

Maybe Hoseok's right, Yoongi thinks, and maybe he's just worrying over useless little things and it's been too long.

But this is the last time, he tells himself.

"Don't think about it," Hoseok reminds him in between kisses, and Yoongi closes his eyes, letting Hoseok make him forget about everything: about Jimin and how he was supposed to leave, about Jungkook who felt guilty, about that night, at the pool, and Hoseok’s words.

“Yoongi,” he had quietly called the next morning, waiting for him to answer with a soft hum before continuing as his fingers unconsciously wandered over aching love marks. “This is the last time.”

“Okay,” Yoongi had sleepily answered, voice muffled by the blanket he had pulled up to his chin.

“This time for real,” Hoseok said, stressing the words as he picked up his clothes from the floor.

“...you always say that,” Yoongi mumbled.

“There’s this guy I like,” Hoseok continued, back turned to Yoongi as he was tying his shoes. Yoongi forced his eyes open, starting to become more awake.

“Okay,” he said again after a while and it sounded more like a groan rather than a word. "What time is it?"

"About six?" Hoseok wondered, too busy looking for his keys under the bed.

"Where you goin'?" Yoongi asked, shivering slightly because of the cold.

“Home," Hoseok rushedly replied and Yoongi opened his eyes this time, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and a hazy gaze.

“Why?” he innocently asked, making Hoseok stop in his tracks and try to stammer out a reply.  

He wondered, too.

And then Yoongi froze, sleepiness disappearing from his eyelids as realization hit him. That's how things just worked between them. It was an unwritten rule both of them were aware of ever since the whole thing had started, and Yoongi should've known better than to ask the stupid question. Should've known all along that he could've never asked Hoseok to stay, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Dance practice," Hoseok still replied, eventually, and Yoongi wondered whether he was saying the truth or not.  

“Okay,” he mumbled again.

When Yoongi wakes up, it's to Hoseok's sleeping figure within his hand's reach and Hoseok's phone ringing for what seems to be the hundredth time. And when Yoongi squints at the name on the top of the screen, briefly considering the possibility of declining immediately, part of him tells him otherwise, so he picks up with a groan, careful not to wake Hoseok up in the process.

"Tae..." he sighs.

"Oh," Taehyung replies on the other side of the line, probably expecting to hear anything but Yoongi's voice. "Sorry, did I wake yo up?" he still asks, not really needing a reply.

"Why'd you call?" Yoongi asks. Hoseok shifts in his sleep at the sound of his voice.

"Is Hoseok there?"

"He's sleeping," Yoongi purposefully tells him, making Taehyung let out another quiet 'oh...' in response.

"Could you tell him to call me when he wakes up?"

"Why?" Yoongi coldly asks, suddenly realizing how defensive he sounds.

"Got something to ask him," Taehyung says, not bothering to explain further.

"I thought you deleted his number," Yoongi can't help but blurt out.

"What?" Taehyung asks, and Yoongi wonders of he didn't hear or if he's simply surprised by the statement.

"Nothing. I'll tell him to call you back, okay?" Yoongi then sighs. "Everything you've got to say can probably wait until tomorrow morning," he adds, hanging up before Taehyung can say anything else.

"Could've been nicer," Hoseok mumbles, half awake ever since Yoongi picked up. "What did he want?"

"To talk."

"Weird," Hoseok comments.

"Shouldn't you change his contact name or something?" Yoongi asks.

"To what?" Hoseok asks back, sounding both amused and sleepy. "Ex fuck friend?" he asks, laughing slightly.

"Better than Taehyungie with a bunch of hearts next to it."

"Can't let Jimin get suspicious," Hoseok half explains.

"If you told him you wouldn't have to hide it anymore," Yoongi suggests.

"Did you know that they used to live together? In the same house?" Hoseok stresses. "I didn't."

"Jimin and Taehyung?" Yoongi asks, but Hoseok just nods into his pillow, without bothering to explain further.

"Jungkook thinks they dated."

"Even if they did it was probably nothing too serious. They were kids. They still are," Yoongi points out, although he's always thought that the two of them were suspicious at times.

"Taehyung would've told me if it was nothing too serious," Hoseok calmly says. "That's why Jungkook's acting weird," he then explains. "Cause he's scared of ruining whatever's between them now."

"Why don't you ask Jimin?" Yoongi suggests after a while.

"You think he'd tell the truth?"

"What else can we do then?"

"We don't do anything," Hoseok says in a warning tone. "We let them handle it cause it's none of our business," he says, along with something that sounds like 'I shouldn't have told you' that Yoongi fails to register. "Just...just don't think about it, okay?" Hoseok manages to ask in between yawns and Yoongi thinks that it might be too late.

Jimin did spend a whole night telling him about his past. Nothing too specific, Yoongi realizes now, just little things that made him feel like they were similar-or used to be, because Jimin, apparently, has changed. Yoongi thinks that if there's something that's different about Jimin it's his hair color, his height and also being a little bit more mature for his age. He's careless sometimes, rarely, but Yoongi can see right through him every single time. He's careless enough to let himself get drunk and pretend that he doesn't care about a thing anymore, and flirt with Namjoon, and text his ex, and kiss Jungkook while acting like it's no big deal.

"When I told my dad I wanted to dance, he laughed in my face," Jimin had told him one night. "But then I filmed that commercial while dancing and he saw me on tv," Jimin said, laughing a bit. "And suddenly I was the pride of our family."

"Same with me," Yoongi confessed. "My parents said I'd destroy our home like that. Now they insist on coming to see me rap."

"Have you told them?"

"About the record label?" Yoongi asked. "I still don't know whether to accept or not."

"You should," Jimin said while smiling. "Don't waste your talent."

"What talent, Jimin?" Yoongi laughed, scribbling a few verses on his notebook, homewrok long forgotten. "I haven't been able to write anything for the past month."

"Blocks happen," Jimin had told him. "Just stop worrying about what everyone else thinks."

"It's not that easy," Yoongi said and Jimin nodded a bit in response. It wasn't easy for Jimin either, Yoongi then thought, not if he needed to engrave it on his chest as a reminder.

"Hey," Yoongi quietly calls, mostly to check if Hoseok fell back asleep. When Hoseok hums in response, he hesitantly asks, "remember that one song I told you about?" Hoseok hums again. "Do you feel like singing a line or two?"

"Maybe," Hoseok laughs, trying to seem mysterious. "Found a new title yet?"

"Keeping the old one."

"Nevermind?" he asks, and Yoongi nods again, making Hoseok smile back sleepily.

To be continued...