THE AKAME MASS COMMENT FICCY THING REDUX! (#1)
It's that time of the year...
Same as last time. You know what to do.
PROMPT. WRITE. PIMP. STALK.
Go!
You can: prompt even if you don't plan to write; prompt/write any rating from g to nc-17; prompt/write drama incarnations of akame. you don't need to be prompted to write ;)
This entry:→ Is always second from the top ( Read more... )
Same as last time. You know what to do.
PROMPT. WRITE. PIMP. STALK.
Go!
You can: prompt even if you don't plan to write; prompt/write any rating from g to nc-17; prompt/write drama incarnations of akame. you don't need to be prompted to write ;)
This entry:→ Is always second from the top ( Read more... )
“You wouldn’t have come if I had. More to the point.” She twists in Kame’s direction rolling her eyes, still practically lying over surface, “They’re like the only band on campus. Who else would be playing? Oh my God,” Erika mumbles, her eyes back on stage where Akanishi Jin is now bent over, picking at a pedal, his guitar dangling dangerously close to the stage floor, his tight black jeans stretching over his ass, strategically positioned, his back to the crowd. There is a series of predictable wolf whistles before Akanishi straightens and turns around, dragging a hand through his tousled rock star hairdo, flashing a wide grin.
Kame scowls into his beer.
“Oh- Oh, he is so sexy,” Erika moans.
“He’s a glorified idiot. All he does is sing and play whatever chords Ryo tells him to play.”
“A hot idiot,” Erika goes on. “And he’s wearing the leather jacket again. Fuck I love it when he wears the leather jacket.”
“I am not,” Kame spits when Erika stands up, “Absolutely not going down there to do the anonymous body hustle with fucking Pink Cobras playing, OK?” even as she starts pulling on his arm.
“C’mon,” she whines, annoying and persistent, “C’mon you promised you’d try to have some fun tonight. Just three songs, alright? I dare you. Three songs.”
Kame tries to get a good grip on the table. They’ve already started on Too drunk to find my dog, and just fuck, fuck Ueda for always sitting beside him in trig, going on about his stupid band and his stupid songs, making Kame memorise entire set lists when the last thing Kame wants to think about is Akanishi Jin wheezing out lines like: Baby I think you’ve got class/But I’m too drunk to find my ass, and Erika’s almost got him out of his seat already and it’s just not Kame’s fault his growth spurt stopped halfway through high school.
“Alright,” Kame says when Erika’s already got him on his feet, trying to ignore the fact that his cooperation isn’t exactly required whenever she wants him to transport him somewhere.
“Yay!” she beams, amiably playing along.
“Three songs,” Kame says stiffly. “Then I get to go home and study.”
“Or maybe,” Erika says, dragging him towards the stairs leading down to the dance floor, “Maybe you could try to relax and find someone to do the not-so-anonymous body hustle with.”
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
I don't know. Have you? It's alright if you do it again though. I will gracefully accept your feelings.
Reply
Reply
Reply
GA
Reply
Leave a comment