You seem to float through the door/Onto the House of Commons floor
I ordered a Green Party sign for my front lawn. I didn't know you could order them online! :D Family is surprisingly agreeable to this. Joan and Elaine on the corner have the NDP candidate's sign, our left neighbour is displaying a Conservative sign and our other neighbour has a Liberal sign, so - this way, our strip will have the complete set!
Anyone who hasn't listened to "I've Got A Crush On Harper", GO RIGHT NOW. Personally, I thought it could be a little more well done, but the fact that it EXISTS makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
Re-posting some of the drabbles I wrote the other day - actually, still_ciircee posted a series of REALLY AWESOME little ficlets, so I'd recommend that you go check those out first, because they're SERIOUSLY awesome. I'm on my fourth re-read. ♥
Also - Assuming by cupcake4mafia (Jun-centric genfic, PG-13)
This fic is just sending me into utter spasms of delight. Young!Arashi dealing with something they didn't know about Jun. This author really pulls together that they're young and stupid and sometimes really thoughtless, but there's a real sweetness and genuine care that's pure Arashi. I absolutely adore this. ♥
"Don't be such a baby," Jun says, his tone no longer so much Impatient to I'm Being Fucking Reasonable Sakurai And I Will Get My Way If I Have To Hit You. "I'm trying to help you."
"Ib spells like Haiba's socks," Sho gasps, trying to bury his nose in the blanket Jun had tossed over him before mysteriously rummaging in his backpack and leaving the room, only to re-enter a few minutes later with a steaming mug of something identifiably murky grey-green and a resolute expression.
Jun tugs the covers back down off Sho's face and waves the mug under his nose. "It doesn't have to smell great to work. Now would you please drink this? Some of us would like to get on with rehearsal without you coughing and sniffling the entire time."
"Nggh, wasn't." Sho clings onto the blankets, trying to give the best serious glare that he could when it felt like his head was about to roll off his ears.
Jun pauses, hands smoothing down the blankets around Sho's sides with his free hand. "I'm doing this because I care about you," he adds, softly. "You need to take better care of yourself."
Sho feels his resolve crumble. "Fine," he grumbles, accepting the mug and eyeing the contents suspiciously. "This isn't like that caterpillar fungus thing you made Captain take during his butai, is it?"
"Just hold your nose and drink it already." Jun rolls his eyes in exasperation, settling down on the couch, curling up against Sho's side.
It wasn't that bad, actually - it tasted spicy, almost licorice-y. There was a strange bitterness to it that made Sho grimace, but overall, the smell was worse than the taste itself. He drained the mug quickly, slamming it down on the table beside the couch triumphantly.
"There you are," Jun shifts so he isn't pinning down all of Sho's blankets. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Ah," Sho says coherently. His nose feels fizzy. He slumped down a little against the cushions, butting his head a little against Jun's shoulder. "Hey. Thanks. You know. When I get colds, I get kind of-"
"I know," Jun said simply. He kissed Sho's hair. "I know. I don't mind."
"Captain," Aiba says - sweet, light, laughing, breathless - and Ohno has to smile back at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. He kisses the tip of Aiba's nose because he knows that it will make him giggle, hearty little chuffs that make Ohno laugh too.
"That's so disgusting." Jun throws a hairbrush at them, barely aiming - it misses them and the couch by at least a foot and ends up nearly taking out Sho's newspaper. Nino peeks up over the top of his DS from the couch across, clearly mentally weighing Cuddles v.s. Boss Fight for a minute before shrugging and returning to his game.
Aiba grins at Jun, snuggling closer to Ohno, until he's practically in his lap. Ohno wraps an arm around his waist, startled, but more than happy to play along. "Jealous."
"Oh, very." Jun kicked at Aiba's leg on his way back past the couch.
"You can cuddle with us too, Jun-chan," Ohno says seriously, like he wants Jun to be sure he knows he isn't being left out.
Jun only barely registers the feral, dangerous grin that flits across Nino's face before Nino is sinking to his knees in front of Jun, his smirk half-hidden in the flashing stage lights.
The screams are almost deafening, but Jun's head is already pounding, his skin too hot, his mouth dry. Nino keeps his eyes fixed on his, his hands slowly trailing down Jun's thighs.
Jun arches his hips, letting his head fall back. He can feel a thousand eyes on him, but all can think about are Nino's, dark, wanting, and possessive.
"Hey," says Shittaka, sounding confused and it's only after he tilts his head and considers Shuuji for a good moment that it seems to click in his mind and he almost jumps backwards in surprise. "Oh hey, hey, Kiritani-kun, it's been awhile, yo."
"Yeah." Shuuji takes a sip of his coffee. "I didn't know you were studying here. What are you taking?"
"Economics." Shittaka stared down at the table. "Not going so well. But I don't want to give up so easily."
"It's tough." Shuuji offers a tight, reassuring smile. "But you need to hand in there."
"I saw Kusano the other day," Shittaka says. "Did you know that he goes here as well? You guys were - in high school, you seemed."
"We're sharing an apartment." Shuuji picks at the edges of his paper coffee cup with his fingernails.
"Oh." Shittaka was quiet for a moment and Shuuji watched his from under his eyelashes, searching for some sort of reaction. "And - Kotani-san? Do you know what she's doing now? Do you ever see her at all?" He sounds wistful, almost longing.
"She left for Paris about five months ago. A study trip." Shuuji smiled, but there was a faint edge of sadness to it. "Her French is getting really good."
"Oh." Shittaka says. "Will you tell her I said hi if you talk to her?"
"Yeah." Shuuji stood up. "I'd better get going. My next class starts soon - take care, okay?"
"You must miss her a lot," Shuuji hears Shittaka say just as he's beginning to turn and walk away, so quiet that it's barely audible in the crowded raucous of the university cafe.
Shuuji stops. "We do," he says after a minute, honestly, before leaving the cafe.
"Matsujun's hands are all purple!" Aiba sounds utterly delighted and Jun can't really scowl at him, even if he's tired and sore from picking blackberries all day in the hot sun with an idiot chattering down his neck about HOW NICE THE WEATHER IS UWAAAAA and HEY HEY LOOK MATSUJUN THERE ARE TINY BIRDS EATING BERRIES.
Aiba's lips are stained dark crimson with berry juice, the remains of his one-for-Masaki, one-for-the-basket policy and he's grinning goofily, widely. Jun can't help but wonder how Aiba can look so damn cute while Jun feels sweaty and gross and sluggish. It's really unfair, but there's just something about the strong set of Aiba's tanned shoulders under his rolled-up t-shirt, the peeling, slightly freckled sunburnt skin on his nose and the floppy-brimmed straw-hat half-covering his eyes as the field truck brings them and the crew back to the main part of the farm.
Jun is so busy trying to drain his water bottle of all remaining liquid for his parched throat that he starts when Aiba suddenly grabs his free hand, choking and coughing as he nearly spits out a mouthful of water.
"They almost look bruised," Aiba marvels, examining Jun's juice-stained fingertips. Jun's about to ask if he'd like a real bruise, but it comes out as a sort-of cross between a choking sound and a squeak when Aiba's tongue darts out, licking at the pad of Jun's finger, before intently sucking on it for a second.
"Hmm. Sweet," Aiba says decidedly, after a moment of careful thought, while Jun gapes at him.
"That's - they're - dirty." Jun can hear the staff snickering in the back of the truck behind them and he can feel his own ears growing hot enough that they're probably turning an even deeper shade of purple than his hands.
Aiba grins, biting down on his dark, juice-swollen lower lip teasingly. "You think?"
In the end, the cameramen were disappointed that they didn't get any footage of Jun pushing Aiba off the truck. That sort of stuff was great for the ratings.
Jun wondered why no one took him seriously when he offered to do it over again.
"This isn't a good idea," Sho says, but it doesn't sound very convincing even to himself. He's only had a couple of drinks, so his head is buzzing pleasantly. Jun had barely even touched his first beer, sipping it at vaguely while his feet bumped against Sho's under the table, bare toes rubbing against Sho's ankles until Sho had to excuse himself to the washroom.
He had been looking at himself in the mirror, staring silently with his hands braced on the sink, trying to sort his head out when Jun had followed him in, leaning against the wall and watching Sho in the mirror, his expression determined, waiting, earnestly wanting in a way that makes Sho's skin feel hot and prickly.
"It really isn't," Sho repeats, more quietly this time, leaning his head back against the wall while Jun trails tiny, biting kisses down the side of Sho's neck, his hands already fumbling with Sho's belt. It isn't right, it isn't smart - they're bandmates and Jun's still so young, barely an adult, for all that he acts even older than the rest of them sometimes.
But none of that changes the guilty, sinking fact that Sho wants this, wants Jun's long, delicate fingers slipping under his shirt to feather across his abs. He's wanted it for awhile, if he's honest with himself.
"I know," Jun replies, just as quiet, with an edge of steel to his voice. He unzips Sho's fly, rocking his palm against the front of Sho's boxers until Sho lets his breath out in a low hiss, arching his hips into Jun's hand. "I still want to, though."
It doesn't really hit Sho for good until he arrives at the studio the next night for filming. Aiba and Nino are having a ticklefight in one of the corners, Jun examining a magazine article while quickly eating dinner and Ohno is slumped against Sho's shoulder on the couch, half-asleep.
He knows that he's graduated, but it didn't fully occur to him until he realizes that he doesn't have to drag around heavy textbooks in his daybag, doesn't have to give himself a headache with long readings and essays while his bandmates goof around and joke together and enjoy themselves.
He's free. And what's better, he did it.
"It feels good, huh?" Sho is almost surprised to hear Ohno's voice- he thought he had been drifting off. But glancing down, he could see Ohno's vague, but strangely perceptive gaze focused up at him, eyes warm. "We're all really proud of you, Sho-chan."
It takes about twenty minutes to find Ohno - mostly because he had dyed his hair blond again and thus pretty much blended in in the wide field of tall grass and cheerful yellow flowers.
He's napping, of course, and Sho takes a minute to smile fondly at Ohno's half-open mouth and tiny snores before kneeling beside him and shaking his shoulder gently.
"The staff are looking for you," he tells Ohno, as his eyes flutter open, squinting before re-focusing on Sho.
"I was watching clouds," Ohno says lazily. A flower beside his head bends in the breeze, leaning down to tickle at Ohno's cheek and Ohno sneezes. Sho laughs.
"Mind if I watch with you for awhile?" Sho lies down in the grass next to Ohno, their hands and arms brushing. The air is cool and the sky is that impossibly bright blue that almost hurts to look at directly for too long.
"Aren't they looking for us?" Ohno doesn't move, though.
Sho hums, pillowing his head on one arm. "I give them ten minutes," he says, "Five if they send Nino."
The choreographer's Japanese wasn't very good at all, and it was adding to the frustration they all already felt at the complicated routine.
"Backflip?" The choreographer told Sho, mistaking his apprehension for misunderstanding. He mimed someone diving backwards. "Backflip, three in a row?"
"Uh-uh." Sho's eyes were wide with fear. "No - no backflip."
Nino sighed, shoving Sho gently aside and effortlessly performing a series of backflips. Things would be easier on them all if they could get through to the choreographer that he could handle the acrobatic parts of the choreography.
"OKAY!" The choreographer declared happily, with a thumbs-up. Sho gave Nino a somewhat watery smile.
The conversation was starting to feel kind of one-sided to Jun.
"Do you think everyone wants to go out for yakiniku?"
Clickclickclickclick.
"Maybe we should wait for Aiba. Did you want to watch the replay tape?"
Clickclickclickclick.
"You can totally see that bit where Sho slipped during the third set during - are you listening?"
"Mmmm." Clickclickclickclick.
"Right, so, I think tomorrow we should work on our timing, it's way off-"
ClickclickBEEPclick.
"I gave Ohno a blow job backstage."
Clickclickclickcli- "WHAT?" Nino sat bolt upright.
Jun flopped on the bed next to Nino, trying to tug the DS out of Nino's grip. "Can't you leave that thing alone for awhile?"
Nino grunted, turning his gaze back to the screen. "I'm playing."
"But you're leaving me alone." Jun kept tugging steadily at the console, his hands warm against Nino's. "Don't leave me alone?" He watched Nino's face carefully, his eyes just a little bit wide with his plea.
Nino sighed as he clicked his DS shut.
Nino had the same expression of intent concentration that he usually did - like the object in his hand was the absolute core of his universe.
It was the hardcover binding that caught Sho's eye.
"Nino," Sho tried to pull the book out of Nino's hands to get a closer look. Nino gave a startled yelp, clinging onto the book. "This isn't a game manual, is it?"
"You think?" Nino gave a final tug, breaking Sho's tentative hold on the book. "Do you mind, I was a little busy-"
"You're reading?" Sho was delighted, a squishy sort of happiness that made him want to hug Nino until he choked. "A real book, paper and glue and binding and words and-"
"I'm not illiterate." Nino glared at him, before his eyes slid back down to the book. He licked his thumb and used it to turn a page.
"I know." Sho crowded closer, trying to look over Nino's shoulder. "So, uh, what are you reading anyways?"
"Machiavelli." Nino highlighted a particular passage with a marker, noting 'MATSUJUN ♥♥♥' in the margin.
"...oh."