#im just glad he's finally leaving. the worst is everyone liked him. because dudes like him are sadly charismatic af.

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Bad At Love

Call It What You Want (3/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x reader

A/N: finallyyyyy Im gonna slowburn the shit outta this (gif not mine btw and I’m terrible at summaries)

Chapter summary: you spend your free weekend the trio. Mondays are the absolute worst.

Warning: swearing, a terrible relationship, one bad pun(that I do not regret)

Word count: ~1.6k

—-

“Yeah but don’t over mix it,” You instruct Finn as he siftes flour into the mixing bowl, mixing it in with the eggs and sugar.

Rey and Poe sit at the dining table, watching the two of you bake. After melting a spatula by accident, Finn had banned Rey from the kitchen for the rest of the day. Poe wasn’t allowed in from the beginning, much to his chagrin, but Finn had insisted, saying that it was the best decision, if he still wanted to have a kitchen by the end of the day.

So it was left with you and Finn. The plan was to make cookies and popcorn and watch holiday movies the whole weekend.

Usually, you would spend your weekends alone, or with Jessika, binge watching netflix shows or working. Jessika calls you boring for that, but if you went out to parties like she did, you’d probably be hiding away from everyone else anyways. So this was a much better option for you.

Rey had insisted that you spend the day with her at Finn’s place. Somehow that had turned into a sleepover and here you are in her pajamas making cookies in the kitchen. You really enjoy spending time with the three of them and you’re really glad Rey cared about you enough to practically drag your antisocial ass into their plans.

“Are you done yet?” Rey whines loudly from her seat.

“We haven’t even put it in the oven!” Finn exclaims, exasperated.

“We could just eat the cookie dough,” Poe chips in much to Reys delight but both Finn and you simultaneously shoot down the suggestion.

“Poe, you’re a med student, you should know better!” Finn adds on as Poe slumps in his seat, pouting. The truth was, you and Finn had already eaten a tiny bit of cookie dough, just to taste test. You know the children will insist on having some too, if they found out you did. “Go pick a movie to put on, at least,”

Rey perks up again, sprinting out of her seat, “Oh we’re watching Home Alone!” Poe sprints after her, yelling, “What no! We’ve watched it a million times already!”

Literal children.

The cookies turn out pretty good in the end. Finn makes Rey and Poe set up the rest of the things, just to keep them away from the kitchen.

Before you know it, you are watching Home Alone, snuggled up in a comfortable blanket with Rey. A huge warm bowl of carmel, butter popcorn sits on your lap. Peaceful and comfortable. Until Rey swipes the whole bowl from you, “I love you, but leave some for the rest of us,”

You try to snatch It back, almost practically wailing, “I made cookies for you, you evil woman,” you hear snickering from the other couch and whip your head around, screeching, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Poe completely loses it and Finn casually pushes him off when he falls in top of him laughing, while you continue glaring at them. Rey makes use of the distraction and shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “We made those cookies, give me some credit too!” Finn exclaims, offended by your statement.

“Okay fine, our cookies,” you concede.

“Hey I helped too!” Rey exclaimes.

“Oh yes, the secret ingredient. One melted spatula,” you snark her.

“Oh burn! Pun intended,” Poe chimes in.

Unsurprisingly, this is how the entire evening goes. The four of you spend it bickering playfully instead of watching the movie, but you weren’t complaining.

—-

Poe Dameron hated being alone, more than anything. Once, he was a kid, who had parents who loved him and a place he called home. Then suddenly he was moving to live with his godmother in an entirely different state, in a big house that just never felt like home. But at least he had Finn and Rey.

Then he’d gone to college and Finn and Rey had gotten together. They weren’t big on PDA or anything. They never did anything to make Poe feel uncomfortable or left out. But Poe couldn’t help but feel like an intruder sometimes. Somedays he’d catch them in the couch together, cuddling, watching a movie at night. And he’d just slink along the dark and shut himself in his room without uttering a single word to them. Intruder.

In a way, he had always been jealous of them. It had always been Finn and Rey, even before he became part of their duo. He just wanted to have a bond like theirs with someone. Someone who would be willing to put him before anybody else. He wanted to be the first person someone would run to if they have a problem or the first person someone would call when they have a piece of happy news to share. He wanted to be someone’s first choice, to belong with someone.

But somehow, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even come close to finding something like that. He’d had his fair share of bad relationships, in his rush to find that someone. He had so much to give, no one to give to.

“Hello?” Carefully manicured fingers snap infront of his face. Poe startles slightly. Great, he zoned out again. “You’re not even listening to me,” Sarah leans back into her chair, displeasure etched on her face.

“No no, I’m listening. Just tired,” he takes a swig of his coffee.

Whatever he has with Sarah, he knew it wouldn’t last. They don’t work together and he was aware of it. But at this point, having something felt better than nothing. He knew she didn’t love him. If she did, Poe would’ve given anything to make it work.

Yes, he was aware of how desperate he sounded.

“Yeah, whatever,” she dismisses him with a wave. “You wanna go back to my place for the night?” A sultry smile spreads in her face, fingers lacing with his, on top of the table. Sarah was a good girlfriend sometimes. She’d buy him coffee, ask him how his day was, be nice to him. But that was only if she wanted something in return.

Poe sighs heavily, “I can’t tonight. Sorry babe,” babe. It sounds so fake to his own ears. There was once when the endearment felt sweet on his tongue, and he wanted to say it, every chance he got. Now, it feels like a lie. Like he’s fooling himself.

Warm fingers withdraw from his, and the smile slips right off her face. “Alright then,” her words are clipped, nothing like the tone used on a lover. Sarah collects her belongings from the table, her cup of coffee lays half-empty beside his. “Have fun, studying,” She snaps, rising from her seat abruptly, and marching out of the coffee shop. Poe doesn’t try to stop her.

He hasn’t been over to her place in weeks. He wasn’t actually busy tonight, he just didn’t want to go. He hadn’t wanted to for some time. Maybe he was finally sick of his own girlfriend treating him like, as Finn liked to call it, a booty call. Blowing up his phone when she felt like it, then leaving him high and dry for as long as she wanted after that. Finn just doesn’t understand why Poe would let himself be treated like that. To be honest, Poe doesn’t as well.

—-

Mondays suck. You particularly hate this monday, after the sleepover you had at Finn’s over the weekend. The four of you had passed out on the couch that night, crashing from sugar high after eating way too many cookies and popcorn for just four people. Although Finn still insists it was just the right. You had so much fun nonetheless.

Your professor’s droning had already put half the people in the lecture hall to sleep. You try your best to stay awake, although you know you are fighting a losing battle. The guy beside you had long since given up, it seems. His head is resting on the table and he is fast asleep.

You had managed to spend an entire semester not uttering a single word to the guy who had been sitting next to you for literally every single lecture. That was how bad you were at making friends. Maybe you had smiled at the tall, dark haired dude, once, at the beginning of the semester, but that was it.

Maybe part of the reason he chose to sit beside you was because he was just as quite as you. He mostly kept to himself. Occasionally you’d see him talk to one or two people here and there, but that was it. You weren’t complaining, really. You were perfectly content with finishing the whole semester without uttering a single word to him. But it seemed your professor had a different plan.

Your professor slams his palm on the front desk to get everyone’s attention. A few figures jump at the sudden noise and a few others groan, but everyone was awake.

“I know the topic is a little dry but come on, guys,” he says. “I’m making an announcement about the final assessment, at least pay attention to that,” Your professor was pretty cool. He was willing to go above and beyond for anyone who asked for help although the lectures literally bored everyone to hell. You fish out your notebook from your bag, ready to jot down whatever he was going to say. “The final assessment, will be done in pairs,” In pairs? Why had god abandoned you? Who were you going to ask? You didn’t know anyone in the class. You take it back, your professor was not cool.

Thankfully before you could start going partner hunting, the guy beside you turns to face you and he asks, “Hey, would you mind pairing up with me for this assignment?” You don’t hesitate before agreeing, relieved by the turn of events.

He flashes you a smile, “I’m Ben Solo,”

—-

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth

#poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe fluff #fanfic #pretty short this one #i bearly proofread #sooo sleepy

[grasslandgirl]

oooo i sent it more as a fix prompt but also from one adhdhead to another i’m glad we agree!! thinking about sam and peter study dates

ahhhh fvbjsjvkbjf im so dumb i’m sorry i saw “adhd sam” and my brain just yelled YEAH. RADICAL. and that was it kjdvskfj 

that being said i’ve been haunted by ricky montgomery’s Line Without a Hook + eldonado since yesterday so........ hmmm.... (oh no this got wildly out of hand)

-----------

Peter threw himself wholeheartedly into anything he worked on. It was just how he was built. Peter was either on or he was off, and it was hard to get him to change course once he was en route. Head down, eyes narrowed, his whole body angled down at his computer like if he got his face close enough to the screen, it would start streaming information right to and from his brain. His hair would flop, unnoticed, into his eyes and he would shove his glasses so far up his nose that Sam would worry he was going to bruise his nose. 

All this to say, of course, that study dates were something of an occupational hazard when you were best friends with Peter Maldonado.

And also secretly in love with him.

Well, mostly-secretly. Secretly to Peter, and probably only Peter, because Sam was 90% sure everyone else was in on the secret and knew how hopelessly gone Sam was for his oblivious best friend. Gabi was the only one who ever said anything to him about it, though. So, little victories. 

Finals were looming over their heads like a dark storm cloud. Looming on the horizon, fucking with barometric pressure just enough to make everyone jumpy and nervous. Peter worked well under pressure- which was a good thing, because Sam knew Peter put more pressure on himself than anyone else did- but he would always show up the night before a big exam and demand that Sam help him study. It was so commonplace after seven years of friendship that Sam didn’t question it anymore. Mostly.

There was always that small, hopeful, and nervous voice in the back of his head asking why Peter always studied with Sam when he studied just as well on his own. The only answer he could think of was that Peter knew Sam studied better with him there. But that wasn’t- that couldn’t- Sam always shut that annoying little voice down before it spiraled any further.

It didn’t do anyone any good to overcomplicate things that were objectively very simple. Peter liked routine, they were best friends, Sam was the only one who could talk Peter down from an academics-induced panic attack at 2 in the morning the night before a final exam. 2 + 2 = 4. Simple math. 

Sam was slumped on his back, halfway falling off his bed with his head and shoulders draped over the side of his mattress. The notebook he was supposed to be reviewing was abandoned, sitting on his stomach. Peter was sitting at Sam’s desk, leaned over and scowling at his laptop. 

It was unfair, really, how pretty Peter looked illuminated by the blue-white light of his notes document. Sam had the perfect view of Peter’s upside down profile, all furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw and dark hair that’d had hands run through it too many times. It was late and Sam’s brain was wrung out and exhausted, only able to focus on Peter’s expression as he mouthed whatever obsolete moment in history he was trying to commit to memory, and the looping chorus of a Carly Rae Jepsen song he’d had stuck in his head for the last two hours. 

A big part of being friends with Peter Maldonado was knowing when to draw the line. 

“Pete, dude.” Peter looked up, blinking away the lines of notes Sam could almost see in his eyes. “It’s the middle of the night. Either we know it or we don’t at this point.”

“You think we should cut our losses?”

“I know you can survive on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, dude, but I can’t.” Sam tapped himself on the forehead. “This baby needs r&r or I can’t fucking function.”

“Right, right. What time is it?”

Sam sat up- an impressive showcase of his abs that Peter didn’t notice, of course- and dug around in his rumpled comforter for his phone. “12:30.”

Peter sighed heavily, tipping his head back against the headrest of Sam’s computer chair. “I should go home.”

“Dude. Just-” Sam was his own worst enemy sometimes- “just spend the night.”

“Yeah? Your moms won’t mind?”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure they assumed that’s what was happening when you showed up after dinner.”

It was probably just a weird reflection from the computer light on one of Sam’s posters onto Peter’s face. There was no way that Peter was blushing. 

“Anyway,” he continued, shoving his textbook and notes off of his bed instead of looking at Peter, “I’m gonna drive you tomorrow anyway, right? Saves me a trip.”

Peter closed his laptop with a soft click. “Yeah, sure, if it’s not-”

“It’s cool, dude, don’t be weird. Just two bros-”

“Chilling in a hot tub?”

Sam prayed Peter couldn’t see the hot blush he felt rising to his cheeks. Five feet apart cause they’re not gay. “Whatever you want, dude.”

Peter knew Sam was gay. He was the first person Sam had come out to- followed closely by Gabi and his moms. But there was a difference, Sam was sure, to having your best friend be gay versus having your best friend be gay and in love with you. An invisible line in the sand that would shift their relationship forever. Sam didn’t want to test how that shift would happen. Didn’t want to risk losing his best friend on the off chance that he wasn’t alone. 

“Right.” Peter repeated. 

They went to bed in pieces: Sam pulling on an old pair of sweatpants and throwing one to Peter, Peter neatly stacking all his notes on one corner of Sam’s desk, Sam kicking all his schoolwork to the edges of his bedroom floor as opposed to the middle of it, Peter brushing his teeth with the same toothbrush he’d kept in the Ecklund house since they were ten, Sam turning off all the lights, Peter wandering back into his bedroom, Peter’s hair turning to gold and ink in the faint streetlight coming in from the window, the two of them curling up back to back in Sam’s bed just like they always did.

And then it was dark and quiet and all Sam could hear was the faint sound of Peter’s breathing beside him. The warmth from Peter’s back mere inches from Sam’s. They’d fallen asleep next to each other a million times, but Sam still felt electric with the proximity. How easy it would be to just- stretch his legs out and wind his feet with Peter’s, to flip over and press his nose into the soft place where his hairline met the back of his neck, to whisper something hopeful and mortifying into the still night air and hear Peter’s breath catch in silent response.

Sam stayed still, held himself perfectly motionless lest he finally show his hand. And eventually, they both fell asleep.

-------------------------

Peter woke up surrounded by Sam. The pillow he’d pressed his face into smelled like Sam’s hair and the sheets on his bed were the same tacky Star Wars ones he’d been so proud of in the seventh grade and the bed was warm with Sam’s body next to him. For an instant, Peter let himself consider it: waking up next to Sam like this every day. Falling asleep with his arms wrapped around Sam and waking up with his head on his chest. 

He squeezed his eyes shut against the glaring dawn light, and against the daydream that quickly threatened to spin out of control. He could still hear Sam’s sleep heavy breathing behind him.

Slowly, Peter sat up in bed, pushing his hair out of his face and scrounging the nightstand as quietly as he could for his glasses. He allowed himself a single glance at Sam- sleep soft and sprawled out on the bed, his hand inches from where Peter’s shoulder had been, like he’d been reaching out in his sleep- before standing up and grabbing his phone from where he’d left it charging on the desk.

“Sam.” Peter poked his shoulder. “Sam.”

He groaned incoherently, but rolled over, which was a good sign. 

“You have to get up, dude.”

“Breakfast?” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah,” Peter laughed a little, “I’m sure your mom’s making breakfast.”

“Urrgghhh.”

Peter grabbed the clothes he’d left in the corner the night before and pulled an old t shirt out of Sam’s closet. “I’m stealing a shirt.”

“Oh,” Sam said, half sitting up and blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Yeah- good, okay.”

“I’m gonna go-” Peter gestured weakly towards the door, and beyond it, the bathroom. Sam peered up at him, the light from the window hitting his face in a single pane, like something out of a sun-soaked French movie. Like this was the moment where one of them broke the uncertainty, the silence. Peter could see the scene unfolding in his mind’s eye, like he’d seen it a hundred times. He’d say something like, did you sleep well? And Sam would answer, better with you here, and Peter would oh-so-slowly close the distance and drop his jeans to the floor and Sam would arch up and meet him halfway and the camera would pan away, leaving them both washed in the golden early-morning light. “Bathroom. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Peter said, and closed the bedroom door behind him. 

He splashed water on his face and combed through his hair with his fingers, throwing on yesterday’s jeans and Sam’s t shirt under his sweatshirt and hoping it wasn’t obvious to anyone else how badly Peter wished every morning could be like this. 

He left the bathroom quickly and perched on the edge of Sam’s bed, scrolling through twitter while Sam did his hair in the bathroom. 

Breakfast was quiet and normal and filled with the usual mini-dramas in the Ecklund house. Kara didn’t want PB&J for lunch and one of Sam’s moms left the flat iron on in their bathroom and Leah almost burned the eggs and Sam spent half of breakfast finishing the math homework he’d almost forgotten he had. 

Sam drove them both to school early for the Morning Show, laughing and singing along to his “perfectly composed drive to school playlist,” and the rest of the day went on normally. He took his history test and saw Sam in math class and they sat with Ming and Randall and Phil at lunch. 

But all the while, Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. He’d had... feelings for Sam for a while, unquantifiable and nebulous. He’d categorized them all: the way his stomach twisted when Sam smiled at him crookedly, the skipped beat of his heart when Sam slung his arm around Peter’s shoulders, how his hands got clammy when he caught Sam watching him out of the corner of his eye, how he always found ways to hangout during and after school. But he’d never dared to name the feeling. Defining it meant- meant he should do something about it. Made it real. 

But that morning, waking up next to Sam, borrowing his t shirt to wear to school, falling asleep next to each other- they were all things they’d done a million times before. Peter’s chest ached with the normalcy, the domesticity of it. 

Peter’s fingers itched to try and piece it all together, his feelings and Sam’s and their history together. String it all together on a corkboard until it made sense. But Peter knew it wouldn’t work. Not without Sam there to see the bigger picture in the first place. It’s why they worked so well together; Peter would gather and organize all the information, but Sam was the one that knew how to put it together, knew how to see the forest from the trees in a way Peter never could on his own. Even if he tried to map out the snarl of feelings in his chest, Peter knew he’d be left with a labyrinth of post-its and red string without Sam there to untangle it for him.

Dramatic irony, he supposed.

Peter caught the bus home, Sam had something for theatre after school, and spent the entire ride with his music turned as high as it would go, trying not to think about Sam as he stared out the window. 

The problem, Peter realized, with being a self-professed movie lover, is that your brain starts to treat life like a movie. He could imagine a dozen different ways his life could spiral out from this moment, a dozen different movie time-lines he could find himself in. The tragedy, where he never tells Sam and lives his entire life in uncertainty. The drama, where he tells Sam and it tears their friendship apart. The tragic love story, where he and Sam are together and happy until they’re not. The comedy, where Sam laughs him off and they go back to their friendship with a tiny crack between them, spackled over with laughter that’s just a little strained. 

The romantic comedy, where everything goes perfect and they ride out into the sunset. 

Life wasn’t like the movies, though, nothing ever went as simple or as straightforward or as cinematic. There isn’t a director behind the camera who can call cut and change the scene halfway through. There aren’t any sweeping cinematic shots with atmospheric indie pop playing in the background.

It was just Peter, and Sam, and the creeping uncertainty hanging between them. 

Right before dinner that night, Peter got a text from Sam.

sam: thanks for the study help last night, felt good about the test today

sam: don’t stress i know youre freaking out about it too

sam: you did great on the test pete i know it

Peter blinked at his phone, at the unspoken I know you hidden inbetween the lines. Sam knew him better than anyone, knew his habits and his worries and his annoying little tendencies. And he was still there. 

And that, Peter realized, said more than anything else.

Love wasn’t a panoramic of a passionate kiss at sunset. It was knowing someone, learning them backwards and forwards, all the good and the bad pieces of them. It was staying, not despite everything, but because of it.

Peter loved him. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

--------------------

The doorbell rang at the end of dinner. Sam rushed to get to the door before his sisters- if he was lucky, it was their batty old neighbor Mrs Gorschtt and she would prattle on for fifteen minutes about her cat, shove a cake into Sam’s hands, and get him out of having to help clean the kitchen.

But when he opened the door, it wasn’t Mrs Gorschtt standing on the front porch, it was Peter. 

“Hey, dude, what’s up? We don’t have like a math test tomorrow I blanked on, do we?”

“Huh?” Peter blinked at him, “No, no.”

“So, what’s up?” Sam stepped out onto the porch beside Peter, closing the front door behind him. Maybe he could still get out of washing the dinner dishes. 

“Uh- so, the thing is-” Peter muttered, twisting one of the strings from his hoodie between his fingers. Sam’s stomach dropped; something was wrong. Peter was nervous, uncertain about something. He wasn’t looking Sam in the eye, and he had one arm wrapped around his stomach like a shield. His head started spinning with a million different things Peter could be upset about, but the thing Sam kept coming back to- he knew.

Somehow, Peter had finally figured him out. And he was coming to tell Sam- what? That they couldn’t be friends anymore? That Sam had made it weird? 

“Pete-” Sam started, trying to cover his bases, trying to fix this before his best friendship in the world went up in flames.

“You’re the only one who calls me that.” Peter interrupted, finally looking at Sam.

“What?”

“Pete. You’re the only one.”

“I- we’re friends, dude, I’m allowed to have nicknames.” Sam tried to laugh, but it sounded forced, even to his ears.

“I- I know,” Peter’s eyebrows were furrowed, and he was staring at Sam like he was a page of history notes he was trying to memorize. “I got your text.”

“Oh, uh okay.”

“Sammy, I uh, I have to say something, and I want you to promise you’ll let me finish.”

Sam’s stomach dropped even further. Here it was. The end of everything. “Right,” he tried to smile at Peter, “sure dude, whatever you need.”

Peter nodded. “You’ve been my best friend since the fifth grade. You know all of my secrets, all the bad things that I don’t tell anyone else. You know that I don’t like orange-flavored things because I had too much orange-flavored medicine as a child and that I stay up too late studying the night before a test and I panic after I finish taking it. You watch movies I recommend, even though you think High School Musical 2 is the best movie ever made, you- god-” Peter scrubs his hands through his hair, clenching his eyes closed briefly- “this would be so much easier if I could just- you can see the big picture. Like with this you could just- take the words, the discrete pieces of data and put them together. Make it cohesive, coherent. I’m not making sense,” he muttered.

“Pete-”

“I don’t want to just spend the night after study dates.” Peter blurted out abruptly. His face froze, like he wasn’t sure what he just said, like he was terrified Sam was going to misunderstand. “I- I mean. I want to do real dates. With you. And spend the night and wear your clothes and have my hoodies smell like you and watch you spin around in the morning show chairs without having to worry about you catching me and I want to see you without gel in your hair and I want to lean against you when we have movie nights and-”

“Pete.”

“Sammy,” Peter said, kind of breathless. “Go on a date with me.”

“Like a study date?” Sam said, also kind of breathless.

“Like a date-date. Please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, just- come here-” and then Sam’s hands were on either side of Peter’s face and his fingers were in his hair and Peter’s hands were caught in Sam’s sweater and then-

Peter kissed like he didn’t know all the answers, for once, and he was okay with it. Peter kissed like he was memorizing everything about the moment. Peter kissed like he was planning on replaying it like an old video tape, over and over until the tape wore thin and tore. Peter kissed like he could hear the orchestra playing behind them, like they were in some cheesy made for tv rom com and were about to get their happy ending.

Peter kissed like Sam was his happy ending.

Finally, they broke apart- more to catch their breath than anything else. 

“Hell of a study date,” Sam breathed, unable to stop smiling.

“Shut up.” Peter was smiling, too.

And, leaning back in, Sam did.

[freddiesaysalright]

The Most Dramatic Season Ever - Week 2

Summary: It’s your time now! You are ABC’s new Bachelorette and this is your journey! All these men (including our fav BoRhap boys and then some) are competing for your heart! Will you find love? Will you get engaged at the end? Or will you end up heartbroken? Find out, on the most dramatic season ever!

Word Count: 6.7k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​ @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @moon-stars-soul​, @danadeacon​, @deacyblues​, @thesundrop​, @cupidben​, @lostlittlenerd​, @delilahmay39​, @mazzellodeaky​, @queenmylovely​, @loveandbeloved29​, @free-pool-trash​, @fairestkillerqueenofall​, @local-troubled-writer​, @babyalienfairy​, @littlecarowrites​, @allthethingsicant​, @im-an-adult-ish​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all! Here’s my gift to you! I know you’ve been waiting a while for it and for that, I apologize lol. Hope you enjoy :D

Warning(s): None :)

Night 1  Week 1

Week 2 here we go!!!

As the next week began, you were still feeling hopeful. You were excited about the dates this week, and you knew who you wanted more from. Truly, this whole group of men had your attention. They were all so sweet and appeared to be completely committed to getting to know you. That brought you comfort, since your worst fear was getting to the end of this only to find yourself in love or engaged to someone who wasn’t genuine.

The guys were feeling similarly hopeful. However, Luke was rubbing everyone the wrong way. Even guys who didn’t really talk to him much were annoyed by his antics. He was always talking about how this was basically a done deal, and that he was going to be your husband. So, the whole house tended to avoid him. 

As they all waited for a date card, he started again.

“It’s gotta be my name,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Just gotta be.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You don’t know that, Luke.”

“I know how she feels about me,” Luke argued. “And how strong our connection is.”

“But you’re assuming her connections with the rest of us aren’t as strong,” Allen pointed out.

“Yeah, I am,” Luke said. “Because I know that for a fact.”

“How can you know that, dude?” interjected John Paul Jones. “You’re not there for every other conversation.”

“I just do,” Luke said. “I know in my heart that she’s gonna be my wife.”

A few of the other men began to bristle at his words, but didn’t speak up.

“Just ignore this, guys,” said Wells. “Let it go.”

There was a knock at the door. Eager to escape this conversation with Luke, Gwilym got up to answer it. He took the date card back into the living room.

“Alright, let’s see what it is,” he said, waving it around before tearing it open.

All eyes were on Gwilym as he read the card to himself first.

“It’s a one on one,” he said, and the group took a collective breath. “Ben. I want our love to take off. Love, Y/N.”

Gwil handed the card to its lucky recipient, and it took everything in Ben’s power to not smash that paper right into Luke’s smug face. He read your name over and over, and his heart raced. That always seemed to be the effect you had on him.

“Well, guys, I guess I better go get ready,” he said, getting to his feet. 

He ignored Luke’s glowering all the way to his room.

You arrived at the mansion to retrieve Ben, much to the delight of the rest of the men. They all rushed to hug you before you would have to go. You sat on the couch to talk to them for a moment while Ben was still getting ready.

“So, how is everyone?” you asked as you squeezed between Gwilym and Rami. “Doing alright?”

They sort of murmured back at you and you understood. Not everyone got along in the house and you assumed that was happening here too. There were plenty of girls you were not super fond of when you were competing on The Bachelor. You wondered if this would seep into the group date or the cocktail party. Drama was a quick way to take up time, which was too precious to waste talking about other people. But, if someone there was being false, you wanted to know. It was a difficult position to be in.

Then, Ben emerged from his room. You beamed at him as he helped you to your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” you asked.

“I’m always ready for time with you,” he replied.

You flushed a little and then started toward the door. You bid the rest of the men one last goodbye before finally leaving and heading out for your date.

Rami: It always sucks to see her go out with someone else. When she walked in, I felt like, ‘Oh! There’s my girlfriend!’ So, it’s hard to know she’s on a date with Ben. Ben’s a great guy, but I still wish it were me instead, y’know? Although...part of me is just glad it’s not Luke.

You and Ben were driven out to an airport where there was a helicopter waiting for you. You loved flying, so you were thrilled by the idea. You squealed happily and jumped into Ben’s arms.

“Yes!” you cried. “I’ve never been in a helicopter before!”

“Really?” he returned. “It’s loads of fun!”

You ran forward excitedly and got ready. The crew placed a set of headphones and mic on you so you two would be able to talk to each other throughout. Then, you and Ben sat by the edge and waited for take off.

It rose slowly into the air, and you gripped Ben’s hand a little tighter. It felt uneasy, as opposed to a plane, which you were used to. The thrill of this new thing, with a man you were very interested in, made your stomach turn like you were on a roller coaster and about to drop down that first hill.

The sight of Los Angeles as you soared above it was amazing. You could see so much. The buildings, the nature around the city, everything! As the pilot headed south, you saw the coast and the cliffside shore lines.

“It’s beautiful,” Ben said in awe beside you.

You looked at him. “It really is.”

He moved your mics to the side and leaned in to kiss you softly. 

“You’re even more beautiful,” he whispered into you.

Your smile prevented him from kissing you again.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly. 

He pecked your cheek and you giggled.

The ride was really incredible. You got to see California like you never really had before, and Ben just seemed like the perfect person to share it with. You landed on a remote cliffside field, where a blanket was laid out with a bottle of champagne on ice. Ben helped you onto the ground and together you walked to take a seat and talk for a little bit.

“That was really cool,” he said as he poured each of a glass of the crisp, refreshing beverage. 

“It was,” you agreed. “I’m glad you were with me.”

“Thanks for the invite,” he replied.

You leaned over this time and kissed him. His lips were so warm and pillowy. You could have kissed him forever.

“So, what made you want to try this experience?” you asked. “The whole Bachelorette thing?”

“Honestly, a friend suggested it to me,” he told you. “I’m about ready to retire from rugby, and I want to settle down and have a fresh start. When I saw your picture, I thought my heart might stop beating.”

You frowned a little. It seemed Ben was pretty caught up in your looks.

“What else about me intrigued you?” you pressed. “What made you confident that this could work?”

“I didn’t watch the whole season you were on,” he admitted. “But from what I saw, I gathered that you’re kind, smart, and generous. And you’re ready for the same things I want. Marriage. A family. Making a home - a life - together.”

A smile slowly crept back onto your lips. “I like that answer.”

“What made you go on the Bachelor?” he asked.

You looked out over the water and considered this. None of the other men had asked you that yet.

“Well, I knew I was ready to settle down,” you said. “This process is like speed dating on steroids, y’know? But I know I’m ready to be married. So, this seemed like a good path for me. It didn’t work out with Peter, obviously, but I’m still hopeful.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said. “But I’m so glad it didn’t work out with him. You’re amazing, and I’m so thrilled that I’m getting the chance to get to know you.”

“You’re so sweet, Ben,” you said.

Once again, he kissed you. There was more passion behind this kiss than the previous ones. You coiled your arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. He grinned into you and yanked you onto his lap. You giggled for a split second before planting your mouth firmly back onto his. The feel of the ocean breeze, the quaintness of where you were, and the warmth of Ben’s body had your mind going cloudy. The only thing really in focus was Ben. You could safely say that he was one of your strongest connections.

After your little picnic, you climbed back into the helicopter to return to the city for the evening portion of the date. As you prepared for it, you thought about your day with Ben and how grateful you were for him. But, you still had a lot of questions for him. You needed to know more about his past and figure out if this was truly something he was ready for.

You met up outside an art gallery. You went in where your dinner set up was waiting. Ben helped you out of your jacket and pulled your chair out for you before taking a seat himself. You shared a small toast before sipping your drinks. You took a deep breath.

“Can I ask you something?” you wondered.

“Yeah, anything,” he answered.

“Tell me about your love life thus far,” you said. “Like, when’s the last time you were in love?”

Ben swallowed and looked at you. “Um...never. I’ve never been in love before.”

A chill went through you. Your mouth fell slightly agape as you looked at him.

“W...what?”

“I know it’s odd for someone my age, but it just hasn’t happened yet,” he went on. “I’ve never told a woman that I love her. Because I’ve never felt that way about someone.”

You blinked. Your mind scrambled for words, but none came to you. This was a shock you weren’t expecting. You had no idea how to follow up either. 

“I…” you trailed off. “Really?”

“Really.”

You tried to read his face, but his mouth was turned down just slightly in a way that told you he was becoming defensive. 

“Don’t shut down on me,” you said. “I’m just surprised.”

He sighed heavily. “I know. It’s a weird thing to admit and I’m feeling a bit...I dunno...judged.”

“Oh my God, Ben, I’m not judging you, I swear,” you said. “I’m just trying to process this because it kind of scares me.”

His brow furrowed. “Why does it scare you?”

“Because!” you cried. “Most people only know they’re in love because they’ve felt it before. Or something like it. What if we get further into this and you realize this isn’t what you expected? What if you realize it after we’re engaged? What if...what if you discover you want something more?”

His whole demeanor softened as he took your hand.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Listen to me. I’ve never been in love, it’s true. But I’ve always believed that it’s because I was only meant to love one person. One great love for all my life. Something more? What could anyone want more than that?”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek. You closed your eyes to the contact. His skin was warm and soft.

“Who could ever want more...than you?” he said.

Your eyes opened and met his. His words eased your heart. All fear dissipated as you held his gaze. Something in his eyes showed you how much he meant everything he said. 

“This seems totally crazy,” he said. “But I could definitely see myself falling in love with you. It’s not hard for me. The picture is there. I just need more time with you for my heart to catch up with my head.”

You chuckled a little and blinked back the tears of worry that had welled up in your eyes. You blinked and one spilled out. Luckily, Ben’s thumb was right there to catch it.

“C’mere,” he said, and he tugged you onto his lap again, draping your legs over his. 

He kissed your temple. You beamed at him. Then, you reached across the table and picked up the rose. You held it between your chest and his.

“Today was really great,” you said. “Getting to see LA like that and then just...talking to you. I feel like every moment we spend together is building something special. And for you to tell me what you did, and assure me after I had reservations, that was a sign of a great partner.”

He smiled at you.

“So Ben,” you said. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Always,” he replied.

You pinned it to his chest and he grinned at you. Sometimes, you were so caught up in Ben’s eyes that you didn’t notice his smile. You noticed it now, and it struck you as something sweet and charming. It was boyish, but calm. You liked it. But, you just had to ruin it by kissing him again. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind.

After rewarding him the rose, you moved to another part of the art gallery. There, stood a singer and band, all waiting for you and Ben. They began to play as you walked in and he immediately spun you into his arms. You swayed together to the slow tempo of the song. You felt really secure there, wrapped up in him. As unsure as you were about his experience with love, you felt like he was capable of being exactly the man you needed in your life. He was strong but sensitive. Kind but honest. Handsome but humble. As you danced with him, you saw yourself with Ben for years to come. Hopefully even forever.

Ben: I feel amazing! It was great opening up to her and just being honest with each other. Those real conversations I think are so important in building a relationship. And yeah, I’ve never been in love before but I think I’m starting to get there with Y/N. I really can see her as my wife.

Back at the house, a date card arrived. It was a group date for all the remaining men. A few huffs were heard at there not being a second one on one. But, when Rami read out the card, there were more questions than anything.

“Let’s see if you can score,” Rami read. “Love, Y/N.”

“What on Earth does that mean?” Gwilym wondered.

“I’m guessing it’s sports related,” said Wells. “Which doesn’t bode well for me.”

Wells was quite slimmer than most of the guys, especially compared to guys like Ben and Kenny who were both athletes. Even so, he was as excited as the rest of them to see you.

Then, the door opened. All eyes turned to see if it was Ben, or a producer coming to take his bags. Almost everyone cheered as Ben came through, rose on his jacket. Joe was the first one to reach him and mussed his hair as congratulations.

“Yeah, Ben!” Joe cheered. “How’d it go, man?”

Ben flushed under all the attention, but his smile never faltered.

“It went well,” he said. “We talked a lot, I got vulnerable, and I felt like it was a step in the right direction for us.”

“Alright, that’s awesome,” Rami said, clapping Ben on the back.

“Did anyone else get a one on one?” Ben asked.

“No, we’re all going on a group date tomorrow,” Gwilym said. “Got the whole place to yourself, mate.”

“Oh, I’m gonna be so bored,” Ben joked.

He joined the group and also tried to speculate what the date could be. He thought that something athletic was likely, but which sport they could all play was a mystery. He wished them all the best of luck though before going to bed. The rest of them followed shortly after.

The next day, the men all gathered onto a luxurious bus and headed into the heart of Los Angeles. They stopped outside a football stadium. There, they saw you, looking absolutely adorable in a cheerleading uniform that was a soft, bright pink. As they pulled up and started climbing off the bus, you waved your pom-poms at them.

“Hi, guys!” you greeted as they all gathered in front of you. “I have a super fun date planned for today, and it’s a great way for all of you to get some energy out after being cooped up at the house. So, let’s go in!”

They all agreed and followed you into the stadium, where you were led them onto the field. There stood a large black man in his NFL jersey. He tossed a football from one of his massive hands to the other and smiled kindly at you and the men.

“What’s up, everybody?” he greeted.

A few of the guys were smiling widely, so they were clearly fans. They returned his greeting with a few polite “hellos” before waiting for someone to explain.

“Some of y’all may know this guy,” you said. “But for those that don’t, this is Thomas Davis. He’s a linebacker for the LA Chargers.”

“Fellas, I’ve been married for many years, so I know that marriage takes work, commitment, and - most importantly - heart,” Thomas began. “Just like the game. So what we’re gonna do today is play a game of football to show Y/N here that you’ve got what it takes. The winning team gets her all to themselves tonight. The losing team goes back to the mansion for the rest of the day.”

“The stakes are high, you guys,” you said. 

“Y/N has already divided you into two teams, the red team and the blue team,” Thomas added. “The red team is: Joe, Rami, Gwilym, Taron, Allen, Richard, Wells, and Mike. The blue team is: Eric, Kenny, Jared, Jordan, John Paul Jones, Chad, Luke, and John. Your jerseys and equipment are waiting for you in the locker room.”

Gwilym: I’m nervous, honestly. I’ve never watched or played American football before. I haven’t got a clue how it works. And all of us European guys are on the same team, so we might just be f***ed.

Richard: I actually love American football. I’ve seen a few games in London and had a great time. I’ve never played before, though.

As the red team all started suiting up, Mike and Joe took charge.

“Alright,” Mike said. “I know that some of y’all don’t have any idea how this game works, so I’m gonna break it down for you.”

He explained the basics of the game and what each of them could do to play well.

“We’ve got all the small guys on our team,” said Joe. “So we’re gonna have to go with a passing game since most of us probably can’t get past Kenny.”

Kenny was a professional wrestler, so making tackles would not be difficult for him.

“Are we gonna play one on one?” Rami asked.

“I think that’s best,” Mike said. “Don’t worry, I can take Kenny. Wells, you cover John. He’s the smallest on their side, and you’ve got the best shot with him. Richard, I want you on Jordan. He’s a male model, so he doesn’t wanna get hit. Gwil, you gotta cover Eric since you’ve got the height. Joe, you stay on JPJ. Rami, you’re on Jared. Taron, with Chad.”

Allen sighed heavily.

“That leaves me with Luke,” he said. 

“You got this, Allen,” Joe said. “We believe in you.”

Allen laughed a little and then they all headed out. When they returned to the field, you were chatting animatedly with Thomas Davis, but turned to smile when you saw them approach.

“Did you come up with a team name?” you asked.

“Flamin’ Hot Cheetos,” Mike and Joe said in unison, though it clearly wasn’t planned, since they gasped at each other before high-fiving with delight.

You looked at the blue team. “What’s your team name?”

“Blue Steel,” answered Kenny, and then shot his best fierce look in the other team’s direction.

“Alright, we’re gonna have the coin toss,” Thomas said. “Y/N, who’s the home team, and who’s visiting?”

You looked at the teams and considered it.

“Hmmm,” you said. “Since Rami’s from LA, the Flamin’ Hot Cheetos are the home team.”

“Okay, who are the captains?” Thomas asked.

The Flamin’ Hot Cheetos pushed Joe forward, while Blue Steel sent Kenny. 

“Joe, what do you call?” Thomas went on. “Rose or ring?”

“Ring,” Joe said.

“Okay, here we go.”

Thomas flipped the custom coin and everyone watched it twirl in the air before landing on rose. 

“Alright,” Thomas said. “Blue Steel wins the coin toss. You want the ball or will you defer?”

“We want the ball,” said Kenny with a smirk.

“Let’s get started,” Thomas replied.

“Alright, good luck, guys!” you called as you backed away to the sidelines.

They all got in place on the line of scrimmage. Jordan was serving as quarterback, with Kenny, Chad, and Luke in the center for his protection. Kenny hiked the ball, and as soon as it was snapped, the men collided. Jordan faked a hand off to Eric, who ran toward the outside, but in reality, Jordan stepped back. Jared took off through the middle, dodged Rami, and ran to get open. Jordan threw, and Jared caught the pass. Rami quickly arrived to tackle him before he could get any yards after the catch. The play was over.

However, Luke had already gone too far. As he and Allen struggled at the line, he grabbed Allen’s facemask and yanked it to the side. Thomas, who was serving as ref, had missed it, and therefore didn’t call a penalty. You, on the other hand, did see it. You admired Allen for not saying anything, but you decided to keep your eye on the situation when you could.

They lined up for the second down. In this play, Richard managed to get around Chad and tackle Jordan for a sack, setting Blue Steel back five yards. When Richard got up, he smiled and winked at you, making you blush as you cheered.

The game went on, and Blue Steel had a good drive, but weren’t able to score in the end. The ball went to Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Taron served as quarterback now, and on the first down, passed it to Richard for another first down. For the next play, Taron faked a hand off to Allen. Luke charged at Allen and tackled him hard, while the ball actually went to Joe, who ran it all the way for a touchdown. Luke, angered at his team for losing, kneed Allen in the chest before getting to his feet.

Allen let out a sharp “oof!” as Luke’s knee slammed into him. It knocked the breath out of him and he took longer to stand up. He looked out to see if anyone had noticed. A few of the guys had, but you were talking to Thomas again as the guys regrouped. Taron jogged over and helped Allen to his feet. That’s when you saw that something was off. Your brow furrowed.

Your eyes found Allen’s and you shot him a questioning look. He just shook his head and got back in place. You looked over at Luke, who was laughing at something with Chad. 

Allen: I’m not really sure what Luke’s f***ing problem is, but from the beginning of the game, he was very aggressive with me. I know he’s kind of an angry guy, but this is something else. It’s a lighthearted game and he’s acting like it’s his life on the line or something.

For the rest of the game, you noticed that Luke was particularly aggressive. Since Allen was his match up, Allen took the brunt of it, though Taron took some hits as well as Luke tried to sack him. It was enough to make you question if he really was a nice guy or not. True, winning meant more time with you, but this was only the beginning of the journey. Luke would have many opportunities to speak with you, even if his team didn’t win today. He was taking it far too seriously.

The game went on, and in the last minute, Allen scored the winning touchdown.

“Alright!” you cheered. “Go Flamin’ Hot Cheetos!”

Just as you started out to congratulate them, Luke came tearing into the endzone and tackled Allen once more. They skidded across the turf together. Allen struggled against Luke’s weight, but couldn’t shake him off. Finally, Luke stood up, and he looked about ready to spit on Allen. Thankfully, you arrived and got Allen to his feet.

“Allen!” you cried. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” he said, catching his breath. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you fretted. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s not your fault, darlin’,” he said kindly. 

You took his helmet off and kissed his cheek. Then you rounded on Luke.

“Hey!” you yelled. “The play was over! What were you thinking?!”

“I - wait - Y/N!” he sputtered. “I was just running and couldn’t stop myself.”

“Are you serious?” you shot back. “I saw you, Luke, you were at least ten yards away. That’s plenty of time to stop.”

“I didn’t mean to!” he insisted.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my God, we all saw it! You’ve been roughing Allen up all day, which can maybe be passed off as the game, but that was completely out of line.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for your hand, but you snatched it away.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” you snapped.

Luke sighed and hung his head before looking at Allen.

“I’m sorry, man,” he said.

“S’alright,” Allen returned, though his tone made you wonder if he meant it.

“You can go wait on the bus while I say bye to everyone else,” you said sharply.

“Y/N, I -” Luke began. 

“Go!” you cut across him.

Fuming, he jogged off the field. 

Joe: Honestly, seeing Y/N yell at Luke like that was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.

You gave the rest of Blue Steel hugs before they left the stadium. You were sorry to see some of them go, since you liked a lot of those men, but you were looking forward to your evening with the winners.

Everyone cleaned up for the night, and you met them at a warehouse that was converted into a bar. It had multiple levels, and even a small, rooftop patio. It was a cool little place that you were excited to spend time in with these guys. As you all piled onto the couch, you made a small toast. Then, you turned to Allen.

“Allen, can we talk first?” you asked.

“Absolutely,” he agreed. 

You took his hand and led him off to a more private area. You took a seat together and you gave his hand a squeeze.

“Thanks for being such a good sport today,” you said. “You didn’t complain one time even though Luke was totally abusing you.”

“I’m not a very angry person, so I tried not to let it get to me,” he said. “Besides, we won in the end. That’s what’s important.”

“I’m glad you see it that way,” you told him.

“Look, I’m not here to worry about Luke or anyone else, really,” he said. “I like you, and that’s what I want to focus on.”

You smiled. “I like you too.”

“Gimme a kiss, love,” he smirked.

“You got it,” you replied and leaned in to press your lips to his.

You kissed him for what felt like hours. You could easily get lost in his lips. The way Allen kissed you was unique - although all the men were distinctive in their style. Allen was laid back and smooth, like his personality as well. It always made you feel so at ease.

You chatted for a bit longer before Joe came to get you next. You gave Allen a quick hug and then followed Joe up to the rooftop. It was chillier up there, so Joe wrapped you up in his arms. He pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you returned.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. 

“I’ve missed you too, Joe,” you replied. “So much.”

“How are you feeling after today?” he asked. “I know you were frustrated there at the end.”

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I like Luke, but he showed me a side of him that really concerns me.”

“Violence?” he questioned.

You nodded. Tears were already welling up in your eyes. You inhaled deeply and tried to keep them back, but one slid out anyway.

“What’s got you upset?” Joe asked.

You took a deep breath. “I...I had an ex that was physically abusive,” you admitted. You had no idea why you were spilling this to Joe. This was something you rarely told anyone. In fact, you had not even told Peter when you were competing for him on The Bachelor. “So, it really upsets me to see men act that way. I got so angry because I got scared.”

Joe’s expression softened. A deep pity moved into his beautiful eyes and he held you close to him again.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said. “No one deserves to go through that. Especially not someone as wonderful as you are.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled. 

“I hope you feel safe now,” he said. 

“I do,” you said, burying your face in his chest. “Especially with someone so wonderful.”

He rubbed your back and stood in silence with you for a few moments. Joe was as comfortable as your own family. Not that you thought of him in a familial sense. Your attraction to him was definitely romantic. He was just a solid person that you could rely on. When he kissed you on the forehead, you nearly melted.

“You’re impressive,” he said. 

You looked up at him. “So are you. Thanks for being so sweet to me.”

He kissed you properly now, but it was still soft. You really did feel safe with Joe. Safer than you had felt in a long time. You had absolutely no regrets about sharing that bit of vulnerability with him.

You talked for a few minutes more before Richard pulled you next. You went with him back downstairs to a cozy corner with a fireplace. You were excited to talk to him because he had played so well during the game.

“Hey, you were incredible today,” you told him as you took a seat. “Who knew a Scottish guy could play some good ol’ American football?”

He chuckled. “I actually like American football. I had a great time today.”

“And you played well,” you said. “You sacked Jordan a few times, and that was no easy thing, getting past guys like Chad and Kenny.”

“Well, I was sort of trying to impress my girl,” he teased. “Looks like it worked.”

You smiled. “I am very impressed.”

You paused to take a sip of your wine. “Where does your confidence come from?”

“My confidence?” he questioned.

“Yeah,” you said. “You’re always like, kind of cool and suave about stuff. Where did you get that?”

“Okay, first off, I’d never describe myself as suave,” he laughed. “But honestly, it’s not something I always had.”

“Tell me more,” you said. 

“I got sort of bullied as a kid,” he told you. “I wasn’t into things a lot of the other boys were. Like, I loved theater and dance. I could participate in a lot of sports, but that wasn’t my passion, and I was sort of different because of it.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, taking his hand. “That’s terrible.”

“It made me who I am today,” he said. “I learned to embrace what I liked and what made me different. And I found people who supported me. My family was the most supportive and it’s because of them that I regained my confidence.”

“I love that,” you said. “Are you still close with your family?”

“Very,” he said. “My parents and sisters are my whole world. My nieces and nephews are as well. I love them so much my heart feels like it might explode.”

You chuckled and grinned. “So, you like children?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I can’t wait to have my own some day.”

You gazed at him for a moment before claiming his lips with your own. You felt his confidence in how he kissed you as well. It made sense. That man knew what he was doing. His lips moved in wonderful harmony with yours, and he ended things with a soft nip to your bottom lip. You gasped a little and felt your face get hot. 

“You’re so cute,” he said, and then pecked your cheek.

“You’re so amazing,” you replied, still a bit breathless.

After Richard, you spent some time with Gwilym. You had a fun conversation with him and again you felt that hopeful feeling that you associated with him. Then you got to see Taron, and you reminisced on your Disney date a little bit before telling him he was a wonderful quarterback. Not long after, Rami stole some time with you as well. As the shortest guy there, you told him how impressed you were that he held his own on the field. The night wound down, and you got a few minutes with Mike and Wells as well before it was time to hand out the rose.

You picked it up off the table, and looked at it for a moment. For the first time, you weren’t totally sure who you wanted to give it to. Allen was one choice because he had been through the most that day. Richard was another since he opened up to you. Then there was Joe, whose time had been brief, but so meaningful.

“This is a tough choice,” you said. “You were all so great today.”

You felt their eyes flickering between your face and the rose in your hand.

“But I want to give this to someone who moved our relationship forward,” you went on. “Someone who I learned more about today. So, Richard, will you accept this rose?”

He smiled that perfect smile of his and accepted it as you pinned it onto his chest. You kissed his cheek and then stood up to bid them all goodnight.

“I’ll see you for the cocktail party,” you said. “Goodnight, everyone!”

You waved and then departed. As you and the men went to bed that night, everyone thought about the connections they had. It was becoming steadily more serious, and this rose ceremony would put the number of men at almost half of where you started.

The next day, the men were having breakfast when Chris Harrison walked into the mansion. They greeted him nicely, but they were nervous. Chris usually meant something crazy was about to happen.

“I hope you’re all having a good morning,” he began. “I stopped by to tell you that Y/N has decided to cancel the cocktail party tonight.”

A few gasps were heard.

“She said she knows what she wants, and she wants to go straight into the rose ceremony,” Chris went on. “So, I’ll see you all there tonight. Good luck, guys.”

With that, he departed. A tense silence hung in the room. The only ones feeling really secure were Richard and Ben because they had roses already. Luke sighed.

“I really needed that time with her tonight,” he said. “I needed to explain myself.”

“We all wanted that time with her,” said Jordan. 

“I know, but I needed to talk about the game,” Luke insisted.

“She saw what happened,” Allen said irritably. “What more did you want to say?”

“I wanted her to understand!” Luke cried. “That’s not who I am!”

“Isn’t it?” Taron interjected. “Then why’d you do it?”

Luke groaned. “You guys don’t understand. This is something between me and Y/N.”

“It’s not though, since it involves Allen,” said Ben.

“Shut up, dude, you weren’t even there,” Luke retorted.

With that, he got up and stormed into his room. They all heard the door slam shut.

That night, you arrived at the mansion and you were ready to face the men. You felt good about your decision to cancel the cocktail party, but you were sure the men were worried, especially those who didn’t have extra time with you on the date. But, you had to focus on your journey.

“Hi, guys,” you said. “Sorry about the cocktail party. I just...I know where my heart is and I need to follow it. I hope you can understand.”

A few of them nodded to you in return, but most of them shifted on their feet. It was time to begin. You picked up the first rose and scanned the group.

“Joe,” you said, and he hurried to you. “Joe, will you accept this rose?”

“I will,” he breathed.

You picked up the next one.

“Rami,” you called, and he approached. “Rami, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course,” he replied.

You picked up another as Rami returned to his spot.

“Gwilym,” you said.

He smiled at you as he walked up.

“Gwilym, will you accept this rose?”

“Always.”

You continued on. You called Taron, Wells, Mike, Kenny, Jared, Jordan, and John Paul Jones. There were two roses left. The remaining men were Allen, Luke, Chad, Eric, and John.

You picked up the next rose.

“Allen,” you called.

He clutched his chest with relief as he walked to you.

“Allen,” you said with a smile. “Will you accept this rose?”

“I will.”

He returned to his place. Chris emerged and stood beside you.

“Y/N, gentlemen,” he said. “This is the final rose tonight.”

Taron: I’m hoping this means Luke is leaving. He’s just...not right in the head. I mean, really, there’s something sort of unhinged about him.

You picked up the last rose and gazed out at the men, heart pounding. You knew who this rose was going to, but you were beginning to doubt yourself. Then you looked at him and felt that gut feeling that there was more to him.

“Luke,” you said.

You noticed a few men close their eyes or shake their heads. You hoped they would understand. Luke walked forward, relief all over his face, and he smiled at you.

“I don’t know what came over you this week,” you said. “But I feel that there’s goodness in you. That’s what I need to see. I hope you use your time here to prove to me who you really are.”

“I will, I promise,” he said.

“Good,” you replied. “Luke, will you accept this rose?”

“Of course, thank you,” he returned.

He pulled you in for a hug and kissed your cheek before returning to his spot. Chris came out again.

“Chad, Eric, John,” he said. “I’m sorry. Take a moment, say your goodbyes.”

Eric finished with the other men first and approached you.

“Good luck, Y/N,” he said. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Thank you so much,” you replied. 

You hugged him tightly and whispered goodbye before he left the mansion.

John came over to you next.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” he said. “But you have a great group of guys here.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. “Thank you, John.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before he too left.

Chad was last and he hugged you before he said anything. As he was pulling away, he stopped to whisper in your ear.

“Be careful with Luke,” he warned you. “Protect your heart, okay?”

“I will,” you said. “Thank you, Chad.”

He pressed his lips swiftly to your cheek and then swept out of the room. You looked around at the remaining men, and a new surge of hope was upon you. Chris got a champagne toast going.

“Y/N, you want to tell them the big news?” he asked.

“Sure,” you replied with a grin. “So, even though you’ve all got roses, you still have to pack your bags.”

You saw their confused glances.

“Because we are leaving this mansion and heading for Asheville, North Carolina!”

They cheered as you toasted. 

“So the next time I see y’all, we’ll be in the Appalachian Mountains,” you said. “Good night, guys! I can’t wait!”

They all wished you goodnight in return as you left. You couldn’t wait to see what Asheville had in store for you and your boyfriends.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #BoRhap #BoRhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap boys #borhap boys x reader #borhap boys imagine #borhap cast imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #joe mazzello x reader #gwilym lee x reader #allen leech x reader #richard madden x reader #taron egerton x reader #rami malek x reader #borhap imagine #joe mazzello imagine #gwilym lee imagine #allen leech imagine #richard madden imagine #taron egerton imagine #Rocketman #rocketman imagines #rocketman cast #rocketman cast imagine #the most dramatic season ever series

[fingerguneds]

Stozier + going to the movies

im like one hundred percent sure this is not what you wanted and it turns out i dont know what a drabble is so it’s 4.4k long but um..yeah hope you like it 

Richie is tired. Okay, “tired” is actually a litotes — he’s fucking exhausted. Two weeks of pre-holiday classes — two weeks of deadlines, exams and final test, two weeks of nervous breakdowns and panic attacks for all students, and for him, probably the biggest procrastinator in their year, it was a hell ride. Sugar-high, coffee-flavoured satanic ritual.

But in the end, he finished up good, of course he did, because not only he’s a phenomenal fuckup of a person with a pathological time-management crisis, he’s also a smart fucking guy. And now, after his last French exam, it’s only fair that he goes home and tries to recover from his two weeks long sleep deficit, but…no.

The problem is, he promised Bill to accompany him to the new Star Wars film premiere, they got the tickets days ago, and even though Richie feels like throwing up and lying in his puke for a month and crying helplessly about of it, he promised. And it’s not just someone, it’s Bill, his best friend, and the newest part of Star Wars! And maybe, if three Red Bulls and two strawberry-flavoured Fantas didn’t make his heart stop, another large-sized slushie won’t either. His heart’s a strong one, it’s been to hell and back and he can show you vouchers — his student’s record book, thank you very much.

“You’re gonna have diabetes,” Eddie, Bill’s boyfriend, intones, when Richie arrives to their apartment to pick up Bill with a venti gingerbread latte in his right hand. “Feed him something or come up with a good eulogy,” he tells Bill, standing on tiptoe to leave a quick peck on his cheek.

“But your mom told me I shouldn’t ever force myself to eat—” Richie tries, but Bill pushes him out of the apartment with a sigh and closes the door, leaving Eddie’s pink-cheeked and ready-to-fight face behind it.

“Sure you’re not hungry?”

“It’s always like that when you miss a night of your beauty sleep,” Richie grimaces as they get into the elevator. “But we still can grab something to go.”

“McDonalds?”

Richie chuckles. As kids, they always went to McDonalds before films, hiding burgers and fries in their little hats in winter or bringing a special backpack “for illegal purposes only” in summer so the cinema boys wouldn’t kick them out, or worse — make them throw everything away. Now, no one cares whether you bring your own snacks or not, and they actually finish their food while driving, but there’s still a lingering touch of nostalgia to the whole process.

They’re barely on time, because Richie insisted on buying a goddamn slushie, although the line was fucking enormous, and yet they take their seats exactly one minute before upcoming film trailers begin. They’re both excited as hell, the slushie tastes amazing after the first proper meal he’s had since yesterday’s evening (yes, fries, nuggets and a Big Mac is a meal, unlike two Kit Kats and a bag of Doritos), and yet…nothing goes as planned.

After fifteen minutes of the film, Richie starts to zone the fuck out. The food is still warm in his belly, his winter scarf he didn’t pull off is soft and comfortable under his crooked neck, his eyelids feel like the only thing heavier than them is his head. He tries, he really does, he clears his glasses twice, he finishes his slushie with the largest gulps to wake up, he bites the insides of his cheeks, but it’s all pointless.

Thirty minutes into the film, and Richie’s gone.

***

“Richie! Richie, wuw-wake up! Oh my guh-god, I’m so suh-sorry, he—Richie!“

Bill sounds nervous. His childhood stutter comes back when he is. There’s a tug at Richie’s hand he barely registers.

“It’s okay,” someone chuckles curtly right above Richie’s ear. “At least his hair is clean.”

Um, rude.

Well, maybe in a different situation, Richie wouldn’t have thought that it’s rude. Like, it’s always nice when people have clean hair. Yes.

But.

He’s diabolically tired. His nerves are nothing but a strained, stiff line that is in an alarming danger to snap and slap you in the face, his mind is dangerously aggressive, meeting every single thing with feverish hostility, and Richie doesn’t even wonder if it’s him the voice is talking about. Even if it’s not, it’s still rude. He tries to remember when he last washed his hair — this morning, to not die before emerging from his flat. And his shampoo is nice too, it’s his mom’s shampoo, because he has her curls and—

“Richie!”

He straightens up abruptly, as if someone just kicked him in the balls, eyes still blurry, like a newborn bird’s.

“Ye.”

Someone starts laughing.

“He sounds like that vine.”

Richie blinks and turns to his left, still not quite conscious of the situation, yet quite aware that this someone’s laughing at him.

The first boy he sees sits one seat away from Richie, but he’s leaning forward, elbows on knees, face on the palms of his hands. He’s the one who said about the vine (Richie’s almost one hundred percent sure he knows which vine), and although Richie feels very attacked, he has to admit, the boy’s cute. He has dark skin, dark eyes, jawline to kill (and to die) for, and his smile is so wide and genuinely nice that it would be a shame to get mad at the owner.

Fuck this guy, he’s educated on vines and he’s hot. If it wasn’t for the “basically a ray of sunshine” part, Richie would fall.

And then there’s the asshole. He opens his mouth again.

“The peanut baby vine?” Richie looks at the mop of curly dark-blond hair, currently hiding the said asshole’s face as he turns to look at the first guy, and Richie’s offended diva is back. He may be a fuckup, but no one has a right to say anything about his hair with a voice like this. Even if it’s greasy as fuck, knotty and smells like used oil, like everyone’s hair smells after visiting places where kitchens are inside the main room and they just keep frying the shit out of food right in front of you; even then, no one can say shit about his hair, even—

“Yeah, that one,” the dark-skinned guy laughs again, and the curly asshole turns to face Richie.

No one can say shit about Richie’s hair, even if they own Cupid’s face. No joke, the guy—pardon, the motherfucker looks like an epitome of Cupid from the Psyche myth (not the fat winged baby). Richie quickly gets mad at himself for paying this much attention to the guy, but know your enemy, right? Know your enemy — their hair dark blond hair, like fields of rye in November, their plump pale lips and pale, although with a warm undertone, skin with an almost invisible constellation of freckles on the wings of his nose, their eyes and their dark, muddy colour Richie can’t really identify in the poor lighting of the auditorium. They’re bright with joy and fox-like curiosity, yet insolent and a little arrogant; daring.

Seriously, do people have to be this pretty? One is hot, like an Abercrombie model you see once and think of for days, the second one is not hot but really, really attractive, like someone who would make a fortune with this intense stare, peeling you off right there, where you’ve had a misfortune to capitulate.

“Rich,” he feels Bill’s large hand on his shoulder, still participating in this ugly staring competition with the curly one. “Guys, we’re sorry ag-again, huh-he’s really tired and doesn’t cuh-control himself.”

Richie blinks and frowns, ready to explode right into Bill’s face, but he cuts him off.

“Come on, Richie, we gotta go.”

They stand up, Richie taking his empty slurpie glass in one hand and looking at the guys again. Everything feels like a dream, his brain is too heavy, his legs disobey, his hands don’t feel like they belong to him.

“ ‘s alright, no big deal,” the first boy says again with the gentlest glimmer to his eyes and the loveliest smile, but Richie…Richie’s tired and bitter and…stupid.

“Yeah, you’re probably used to people leaving after waking up with you,” he says, looking directly into the curly one’s eyes. “Not you, you’re cool,” he winks quickly at his friend, as Bill starts swearing quietly and pulling Richie towards the door.

“Dude,” he says, when they both emerge from the cinema doors, a cig already in his fingers. He offers his pack to Richie without a word.

They smoke in silence, walking towards Richie’s car, and Richie is the one to break it.

“Did I really fall asleep on him?”

Bill chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Yes you did. I didn’t notice until the lights were on.”

“Surprised he didn’t say anything,” Richie mutters, turning the car key.

“You’re too hard on the guy,” Bill huffs out, lips still wearing a lopsided grin. “He didn’t say anything—“

“Yes he did, I heard what he said about my hair, it’s—“

“Rich,” Bill sighs, but he’s not in the least bit mad or disapproving. Bill has always been a keeper of the wonderful gift of understanding. “He said you weren’t a bother and that he’s glad your hair’s not greasy. This is a perfectly normal thing to say, you’re just tired and tensed, and take things too personally. You just need a rest. C’mon, want me to drive you home? I’ll catch a bus to mine, no problem.”

***

The next four days Richie spends at home, sleeping and eating. Sleeping, eating, watching Netflix, thinking about the curly boy, sometimes. Actually, the memory of that day quickly turns into something embarrassing for Richie, something he knows that will make his cheeks grow hot and pink even years later. He was really, really rude to the guy, rude for nothing, and the worst part of the situation is — he can’t apologize. And! The worst-worst part is that the second-to-worst part is — the boy was absolutely gorg dot com. What an unfortunate turn of events: Richie can’t even suck his dick as an apology. Or just suck his dick. Whatever, he’d find a way to make it up to the boy, he’s talented with all parts of his body.

But it’s like falling in love with someone you saw on a train or in line at grocery store. Or maybe slightly worse, because Richie manage to fall fucking asleep on the guy, but still — a crush, doomed to picturesque longing and a quiet little death. It’s all about the masochistic nature of humankind — Richie concludes bitterly to himself, because although he’s a certificated Trashmouth, there’s a pathologically romanticistic heart under all these layers of shit.

No, seriously. He’s too much for everyone, even for himself. Especially for himself.

But enough with this shit, Richie decides the moment next, because his mood swings are the only thing wilder than his imagination. C’est la vie, you fuck up and you keep going until you fuck up again. Maybe there is a lesson he can learn, like to keep his mouth shut when he’s tired or, um, to do his homework in time and not traumatize himself…but it’s Richie. He never learns.

He falls asleep on his couch again, trying to decide what he wants to eat after waking up. God only knows why his actual last thought is so, what the curly boy smelled like?

***

Richie doesn’t remember the last time he’s been to a library. He’s always felt that a book should belong to him for being able to read it comfortably, but when you’re assigned to write a research on Andrei Tarkovskiy’s connection with slavic symbolism…not many books you can find in a regular American bookshop down the street.

The library is huge. The entrance is decorated with ionic columns and the door is so massive Richie barely manages to open it. Inside, it’s just as impressive, with the highest ceilings he’s ever seen and beautiful bookcases and tables of dark wood, situated under big thick windows. Richie undoes his scarf and immediately walks towards the service desk, knowing for sure there’s no way he’ll manage to find anything without help. His steps are loud in the monumental silence of this place.

“Uh, hi?” he says, as quietly as he can, and the boy behind the desk looks up at him and smiles politely.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?”

“Well,” Richie chuckles, trying to hope for the best. “Do you happen to know any books related to slavic symbolism in Soviet cinematography, Andrei Tarkovskiy’s specifically?”

The boy arches his eyebrows. Richie smiles unsurely and gets ready to shrug it off and maybe convince his lecturer to change his topic of research.

“I’ll have to be honest, I have no idea how to help you, sir, but my colleague, who is currently in the section number eight is probably more educated on this matter.”

“Oh, okay,” Richie nods, considering to leave the place right now, but the boy’s softest, a little apologetic smile decide for him.

“It’s to the left, straight up until you see the number.”

“Thank you very much,” Richie tells him and turns towards the rows of bookcases.

12, 11, 10, 9…here it is.

The amount of books is almost frightening. The bookshelves are no less than two and a half meters tall, and Richie immediately imagines one of these things crashing epically right on his head. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath, then turns behind the number Eight.

Five or more bookcases, forming some kind of a wall. In a couple of steps from where Richie’s standing, leaning on one of them, there’s a ladder, and on the ladder, one and a half meters above the floor, there’s a boy with a couple of books in his hands. Richie, even in glasses, can’t really see his face, because the light doesn’t reach it.

“Hi,” the boy speaks up first, although Richie decides to wait until he’s finished. It’s like, dangerous. The whole construction looks…unsafe. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hello, uh, the boy at the desk told me you could help me to find some resources on slavic symbolism in Andrei Tarkovskiy’s films?”

Richie doesn’t notice that he’s holding his breath. The boy’s hands don’t stop, they don’t even flinch, he surely keeps placing the books one by one to where they belong. They’re both silent for a long minute.

“I’m not sure I can help you to find something with both Andrei Tarkovskiy and slavic symbolism, but you could look through slavic symbolism analysis in Russian art in general and the language of Andrei Tarkovskiy’s separately.”

Motherfucker.

“Oh wow, that would actually—“

“Also on the Internet there are a lot of articles on what inspired Tarkovskiy’s methods, if I were you I’d check them out as well.”

The last two books stay tucked under his arm, and that is when he begins to climb down.

“God, lemme help you,” Richie’s heart trembles and starts beating faster at the sight of how tremendously dangerous the boy’s position looks, and he rushes towards the ladder.

“I’m alri—“ the boy turns his head to look at Richie, and when their eyes meet and the spark of recognition explodes between them, two things happen at once: first, Richie’s heart stops, and second, the boy falls down the ladder.

“Bloody fuck,” Richie breathes out, already on his knees beside the boy’s sprawled body. It’s him, of course it’s him, his curly hair, pale freckles on heart-shaped face, but now it’s all red, wearing a grimace of breathless pain. Richie’s so shocked he doesn’t know what to do. The boy turns to lay on his back and a hard moan escapes his lips.

“Oh God, oh fuck, what the—“

“Shut up,” the boy manages to say, chest trembling from the efforts to control his breath. “Shut up and call the—“

“Stan! Jesus, what happened!?”

The other boy is now here too, Richie sees him with the corner of his eye. He looks back though, quickly inspecting the boy’s—Stan’s body.

“What does it look like,” he mocks, cheeks darker than a pomegranate. If Richie wasn’t so terrified, he would appreciate this. Like, a lot. “Call an ambulance, quick, I think my collarbone is broken.”

“Oh my God,” Richie and the other boy mutter in unison, and Stan rolls his eyes.

“Well unfortunately, it’s not my fucking neck, so I’m kind of in pain right now and would really appreciate—“

“God, yes, sorry, yes.”

Richie too pulls out his phone, hands shaking, while Stan closes his eyes and tries to remain unmoving. There’s not much Richie can do, but it’s still something. The other boy’s panicked voice is explaining something in the background. Every ring lasts forever, and when Eddie finally picks the phone, Richie’s sure he almost had a heart attack. Twice.

“Eds? Hi, listen, what do I do if someone breaks their collarbone?”

He accidentally catches Stan’s unreadable stare and looks away, heart already on fire.

“What? Richie, what the fuck, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m just—“

“Did anyone break their collarbone?”

“Well it looks like this, yeah.”

“Did you call—“

“Yeah, but—“

“Okay, fuck, okay, most importantly, do not try to move the body until they arrive, it’s really fucking important, got it? Let them stay where they are, immobilize the shoulders completely, also—do you have ice there?”

“Do you—“ Richie turns to the other boy, but he’s still on the phone, so he has to ask Stan. “Do you have ice?”

Stan blinks, and for the first time, Richie notices that he’s balancing his head above the floor. It’s clear lowering it hurts him. Oh, and his pride is too hard-to-swallow to ask for help. It’s hot.

“Yes, I think we do.”

“Yeah, we do,” Richie repeats and moves awkwardly on his knees to help Stan keep his head up. Stan freezes for a second, but then blinks and relaxes into Richie’s hands.

“Use it for pain, you can give them an ibuprofen too, but don’t let them move, Richie, okay!? Now tell me what the fuck—“

“Later, Eds, thanks a lot, bye,” Richie breaths out as fast as he can and focuses on Stan.

Even upside down, he looks pretty.

Fuck.

Richie, shut the hell up, you’ll think about this later, you sick fuck.

Stan looks him in the eye, and Richie sees that those irises are brown. They’re bright with accidental tears, framed with dark thick lashes, and the colour is not exactly brown, more like greenish-brown, like pine tree needles three weeks after Christmas.

“You shouldn’t move,” Richie says, back to reality. “You shouldn’t move, we need ice and you’re allowed to take an ibuprofen.”

“They’re gonna be here in ten minutes,” the other boy finally joins them, face as red as Stan’s. Actually, even worse: red is his neck and probably his shoulders are too.

“Could you bring me some ice? And a glass of water with an ibuprofen?” Stan asks him, and Richie’s finally calmed down enough to notice how calm Stan is, although the situation is…literally the craziest he’s ever been in. He moves his leg to support his arm holding Stan’s head. Fuck, those curls are soft. Not like Richie’s, Richie’s are soft too, but Stan’s are in thicker rings, curling tenderly around Richie’s pale fingers, licking the boy’s unhealthily pale sweaty forehead.

“Like what you see?” Richie hears Stan’s voice and meets his intense gaze again. There is this daring glimmer to his eyes again, and Richie willingly accepts it.

“Dude, stop,” he chuckles weakly, licking his lips. “ You know I’m already in love.”

Despite their position, Stan huffs, but then his face skews of pain.

“Shh,” Richie winces and moves his fingers in an instinctive soothing motion. “You’re gonna be fine soon.”

“It’s not that bad, just a collarbone. Happens to people all the time.”

“At least it didn’t break through your skin,” Richie blurts out and regrets it immediately, cheeks flaming up.

But then, Stan chuckles. There’s a dimple in one of his cheeks, the left one. Richie’s almost sure his eyes are fully heart-shaped by now.

“Here,” the other librarian boy rushes up to them with what looks like a towel, stuffed with ice cubes, and a glass of water.

He puts a pill in Stan’s lips and lets him drink carefully, then passes Richie the towel.

“Tell me where,” Richie murmurs, and despite how fucked up the situation actually is, this feels oddly intimate. He lowers the towel and feels how more tensed Stan grows.

“A bit—yeah,” he breathes out, and Richie presses down a little.

“Told you you should’ve taken a lunch break,” the librarian guy mumbles softly, and for a moment Richie thinks he’s gonna cry.

Stan rolls his eyes. Richie keeps holding. Somewhere near the door bursts open.

***

“This shit’s surreal,” Bill says after a long pause, when Richie calls him from the hospital an hour later. “I don’t believe this.”

“Fair enough,” Richie nods to himself, inspecting his shoes. “And yet.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Probably something stupid,” Richie hears Eddie’s voice and grins.

“You’re absolutely correct, Edward.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” comes an answer, and Richie thanks him once again for helping out.

“Trust me, I was ten times worse.”

“It’s actually unbelievable,” Bill says again, and Richie knows the face he’s probably wearing at the moment: blue eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed in the slightest bit, one corner of his lips crooked a little. “If it’s not fate, I don’t know what it is.”

“Ooooow,” Richie and Eddie fondly mock him in unison, and Richie knows for sure someone’s gonna get some when he hangs up. “Don’t get too emotional, Big Bill, Edster likes it rough, just like his mom.”

“Oh for fuck’s—“ Eddie’s scandalized howl is the last thing he hears before the line goes silent, and he’s alone again, with the most shit-eating smirk on his face.

The other librarian boy — Ben, he learned when the ambulance arrived — stayed at the library, and Richie was secretly happy to accompany Stan to the hospital alone, although he insisted a couple of times that Richie doesn’t need to.

Richie’s stomach growls and he needs a fag asap, but there’s no way he’s missing Stan. God only knows when he’s at the library again, and Richie needs…Richie needs to talk.

And when Stan, with a sling supporting his hand, walks out of the emergency room, Richie stands up, not being able to help a smile forming on his face.

“Don’t you have other things to do?” Stan asks him, but he’s not annoyed. He looks tired and disheveled, but still calm, and Richie notices that they’re both the same height. Stan’s all legs though, all legs and curls.

“You’re the most important one on the list,” Richie answers automatically, and Stan purses his lips, clearly unimpressed. His eyes glimmer brighter, though. “Hungry?”

Stan graciously arches his dark eyebrow.

“Are you—“ he cuts himself off, clearly thinking it’s a bad idea, but when Richie keeps waiting (politely, although he’s nervous as fuck, because hello to today’s third heart attack), he licks his lips and starts again. “Are you trying to ask me out?”

“Maybe?” thank God his voice sounds much, much more confident than he, in fact, is.

Richie probably needs to get comfortable with Stan needing a moment of silence to think good. Unlike other people that start…to ramble.

“Sorry, I’m just used to people leaving after waking up with me.”

Richie’s jaw hits the floor harder than that meteor hit the Earth and fucked up the dinosaurs. Go off, Stan the Man, go the fuck off.

And he doesn’t even look proud of himself. It’s as casual for him as it is for Richie to tell your dad a mom joke. For Heaven’s sake, who is this guy?

“Well,” Richie squeaks, feeling that his body is on again, as if something blew his fuse for a moment. “It’s not happening any time soon, pretty boy,” he points at Stan’s sling, “so I thought maybe I could try something different.”

“Like what?” he’s smiling now. Legit.

“A dinner? A couple of them? Maybe films? Although I’ll have to be careful with this one, your shoulders are fragile now.”

Stan’s smile becomes even wider as Richie continues to ramble, and although it’s not the brightest and sunniest smile he’s ever seen, it sure feels like the most precious one. It feels like a reward.

It still feels like the most precious reward, weeks later, when they finally wake up together and Richie only leaves to pee and to make them a coffee. Months later, when Richie lets his hand slide down Stan’s shoulder and feels the slightest crook to his collarbone with the tips of his fingers. Years later, after some shitty horror film about some monster clown who eats kids, when he proposes in that empty cinema auditorium, in those exact seats.

Stan still needs a minute to think good, but his burning, incandescent smile says everything Richie needs to know.

#i hope this is believably unbelievable though #stozier #kaspbrough #drabble #okay we concluded its not a drabble #ficlet #...i guess? #stanley uris #richie tozier #mine

[falloutdovah]

wish you'd write a fic where NICK GETS HIS INJURIES TREATED DUDE WHAT THE HELL IM STILL NOT OVER THAT THE FUCK MAN

LAUGHS, GOD. THAT ONE. THERE ACTUALLY WAS A CONTINUATION but it kind of got lost to time because it was a collab...

So I’ll give you a brand new one! Nerd! Happy reading!

_____________

Everything was dark for a time.

Nick had had a lot of strange experiences. More than he could count on either hand. But this empty nothing? That was new.

He wasn’t quite sure where it had come from. But he knew he was alone.

That was arguably the worst realization out of everything.

Still, he felt no real reason to panic. Or to do much of anything. What could he do? Maybe this was what dying felt like.

It wasn’t so bad… It was just the getting there part that had been the scary bit, but, that’s what everyone always said.

To Nick Valentine, anyway. The real Nick Valentine.

Maybe he’d gone to this big dark place a long time ago.

But… if that were so, and he, Nick Valentine the synth, were here in some big dark place now… Then what did that make him?

He could only continue to wonder.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, for him, he didn’t have to wonder about it for much longer.

_____________

“That doesn’t go there! Oh my God he’s gonna die!” Cat panicked, clapping her hands on either side of her face as the mayor frantically pulled out various damaged pieces that didn’t look like they would benefit being in the synth detective any longer.

“He’s NOT gonna die- stop talking like that! Shit- shit- uh- hand me that thinga-ma-whacha-callit over there-”

They had gone back for Nick when he fell. Obviously. They couldn’t just leave him there.

Hancock had scored a lucky shot from where he had been at the time and taken out the opposing Institute synth just as it had sent a laser beam barreling through Nick’s chest.

Carrying him back, and the body of the other synth had been the hardest thing he’d done in a long time. Thankfully the adrenaline had made it possible to begin with (synths were a lot heavier than they looked.)

And now, trying to rig something together? Even though he had no idea on how to even BEGIN going about that? One could have easily argued that doing so would have caused more harm than good.

But they had no choice. They needed the detective back.

They needed Nick back.

By the grace of some almighty being outside of their realm, or maybe within it, most of the parts between Nick and the synth they had shot down seemed extremely similar. There were bits and pieces that hooked into slot A’s and slot B’s, everything labeled or marked in some way that he’d been able to figure out what went where.

It wasn’t perfect by any means, but the gaping hole had significantly lessened by the time he was finished.

Had it been Nick’s head? They would have been finished.

“...Ok… I think that’s...” Hancock swallowed, his mouth feeling drier than pictures of the beach during the hottest pre-war summers. “That’s gonna hafta be good enough, I don’t know what else to do,” He hated admitting that. That he didn’t know what to do.

He was the mayor. He always knew what to do. Or at the very least, he PRETENDED he knew what to do. And in front of her??

Cat looked absolutely terrified. About as sweaty and wide-eyed as he himself was. Only, she had no real talent in holding back tears. Those always came easily. Big and globby, running down her face in dirty streaks.

This had to work. He couldn’t let her down.

It had to work.

The ghoul took in a breath to steady himself, his heart racing in his chest. “...Moment of truth,” He flipped some proverbial switch (it was more a button of sorts) on one of the newly installed parts and waited.

And waited…

Neither of them moved.

Then came the blink of a small light on one of the parts. And the computer fan whirrrrr of another. Slowly but surely, all the pieces began to spring back to life.

Nick’s eyelids fluttered and clicked as the lights that were his eyes slowly began to glow bright yellow again.

Cat leaned forward, almost throwing herself on him, but she refrained from doing so. “NICK?? NICK!!”

“C’mon you old bastard wake up!! You ain’t done in yet!” Hancock goaded him on.

The detective’s eyes flickered from dim to bright rapidly several times, before they stayed on for good. His voice came out of his mouth sounding like jumbled static before it cleared and became audible again.

“What in the world-”

“NICK!!” Cat flung herself onto him finally, mashing her face onto his shoulder and sobbing, squeezing.

Hancock let out a sigh of relief, though it felt like so much more.

“John- what-” “I am so...so glad I got high enough to read a book on fixing up old terminals… Mentats saved the fucking day again...” The mayor laughed, sounding out of breath, as he pulled up a nearby chair to collapse onto.

No chem in existence could give him a high like complete and utter terror. They could make his chest flutter, and his knees shake, and the rest of his person sweat. They could make him see and hear things that weren’t real, and they could send him sailing off into the universe for what felt like a hundred years.

But they couldn’t ever make him feel like that. Not truly.

And, for once, he was kind of glad that they couldn’t.

#Bios Memes and Asks

[soundofseventeen]

13 Days of Christmas (Joshua Hong)

I am very tired, rip. gif credit to owners...im off to cure my cold

Word count: 1676

You wouldn’t call yourself the grinch, but you definitely hated the holidays. You couldn’t stand how the moment Halloween was over, Christmas trees were not only put up everywhere you turned, but the music seeped from the stereo and into your brain (and sometimes your dreams). And then there was the holiday shopping. There were people who didn’t deserve anything but you still had to get them something because you hung out with them. But then there were those who deserved everything the world had to offer, but you couldn’t afford that because the money in your bank account liked to laugh at you for even thinking it. None of that, however, compared to the ridiculous hours you had to work.

The worst job in the world, you liked to say, was retail. You didn’t mind dealing with people as long as they were friendly and didn’t send you into a panic attack after one interaction. They made your days bearable...and also not hate your job too much. But the ones who treated you like gum under their shoe or a roach they couldn’t kill made you wanna gouge your eyes out...or douse them in gasoline and set them on fire. You were fine with either option. It seemed like they all came out to play during the holiday deals and make your life even more miserable than it already felt. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for these days since July, maybe earlier...you didn’t know to be honest. Time now seemed like a foreign concept. Halloween meant dealing with parents fighting over the tiniest accessories for costumes to screeching for a manager because of a nonexistent discount. And the teenagers who acted too cool for everyone had you screaming into whatever you had in your hands. And November brought angry people who basically cursed you and your future generations for not having a bigger display of Thanksgiving items (despite few people celebrating the actual holiday.)

But those didn’t compare to the month-long Christmas. Christmas, ironically enough, was the holiday from hell. Most of the time, you clocked in early in the morning as the sun rose and there was a good chance you wouldn’t come out until the stars were out. If your manager didn’t have you mopping the floor from a coffee that a careless mom spilled, you worked the register, praying that you had the strength to get through your shift. You envied everyone who walked in or passed through those doors because they didn’t feel dread coursing through their bodies. All in all, if you could quit your job without worrying about your next paycheck, you would’ve walked a long time ago, because sometimes it didn’t feel like they paid you enough to deal with that bullshit. 

Tonight seemed like no exception when you trudged through your apartment door, your feet feeling like they’d give out at any second a little after midnight. You let yourself fall on your couch, ripping off the ridiculous Santa Claus hat your coworkers begged you to wear with them, wondering if you could “lose” it somehow. Your face hurt from the mostly fake smile you wore the entire time. You wanted a hot shower to relax your muscles; you wanted to sleep in to the new year so the stress would go away. You needed to look for your laptop so you could start your Christmas shopping so you could spare the other retail workers. (While customers left you apathetic, the empathy you felt for everyone else who dealt with them skyrocketed and you vowed to make things easier for them.);  you needed food so your tummy would quit whining at you to eat something; you needed to remind yourself that no other job paid above the minimum; you needed the fucking cold to go away so you could be less cranky. You just hated everything right now.

As if your night couldn’t get any worse, a scream sounded next door to you. It wasn’t an, “Oh my god, I’m dying here, someone please save me,” yell but one of, “Oh my god; what is this?!” How that was possible, you didn’t know but it was enough for you to leave your couch and out the door in record time to give them a piece of your mind. Some people were asleep at this hour and some like you wanted to wallow in their self-pity because they had to repeat today tomorrow again. 

You had a few choice words for the white flakes falling from the sky because now you had to officially accept that Christmas was coming and you were gonna die of premature stress. But then you saw the culprit who startled you and ruined your night and yelled out an irritated, “Hey!” with hopes of rolling whatever you could spew at him.

He looked at you, his emotions one of wonder and surprise at being acknowledged, his hand midair as if reciting a Shakespearan monologue.

His eyes were a lot sparklier than the ornaments that decorated the Christmas tree at work and you weren’t expecting that, so your expansive vocabulary of bad words died on your tongue, and the longer you looked at him, the harder it was to form a sentence of, “Why the fuck are you so loud?” or something along those lines...and goddamn it, now you were blushing because you had no idea what to do now. His black hair fell into his eyes as the wind blew and he made zero effort to move it, making him seem more attractive and if you weren’t frozen on the spot, you would’ve gone back in and let the roof cave in over your head.

“Hello,” he finally spoke and you were officially fucked. “Can I help you with something?” That. Lisp. With lips redder than Snow White’s had you melting into a puddle and ready to scream at whoever decided to make your life this hard.

“Yeah,” you hated yourself for how meek you sounded when you meant to sound intimidating. “Why’d you yell? Some of us have to be up early tomorrow.” Or in a few hours...time lost its meaning. All you knew was that your alarm had been set up already.

“I’m sorry. I-I just I’ve never seen snow before tonight. See, I’m from LA and it never snows there. Like, we’d go somewhere like Lancaster or more up north, but this is the first time I’ve seen it fall while I’ve been here.”

“Yeah, but so loud? Was that necessary?” Fuck, he was really cute with his reindeer antlers and you really needed to focus because now was not the time to look like a fool in front of a cute boy. Well, any more than you already have.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah well just don’t let it happen again.” You finally found the strength to move and you went back inside to let your neighbor have fun with the falling snow, trying to ignore your racing heart and blushing cheeks.

“Oh, shit this is cold!” 

“Dude!” you threw your head out.

“I’m Joshua,” he waved at you.

“And I wanna sleep.” You sighed. “Listen, I know you mean well, but I have to deal with unpleasant humans tomorrow and the day after that and this whole fucking month until the new year so if you shut up for the rest of the night, then I would appreciate it.” 

He shot you a finger gun and clicked his tongue. “Ahh, you work retail. I could tell by your attitude.” He shivered from the cold. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you; I was just excited to see it-”

And now you felt like a jerk. “No, I’m sorry it was just a really long day and people were annoying and some five-year-old kid almost made me cry and December is just a nightmare and it’s only the beginning. I didn’t mean to snap at you, and enjoy the snow.” You closed the door slowly and opened it again just as quickly. “Also, wear gloves because frostbite is not a joke. Okay, sorry for disturbing you.” *

The next morning, after digging in your closet to find all the accessories to keep you warm, you were running late. So much so, you didn’t even bother turning on your alarm. (It was insured so you weren’t too worried about something happening. And in your haste, you ran straight into...Joshua. Great. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll pay for any damages tonight. My boss’s gonna kill me if I don’t get there soon.”

“Do you ever just take a second to breathe?” He asked you, gently blowing on his coffee cup. The smell of it mixed with French vanilla wafted through the air and into your nostrils. “It’s not even eight yet. What’s the rush?”

“Traffic, and long lines to get breakfast.”

“Well, I have a bagel. Here.” 

“I don’t know you.”

“Well, it’s either take my word for it or you’ll be hungry for hours.”

“How’d you like the snow?” Better to change the subject even if meant getting there a little later than usual. You looked at his bagel a little longer and hesitantly reached for it. (And you realized you didn’t have dinner last night, making it look twice as good.)

“It’s really pretty. I’m kinda glad I live here now.”

“It won’t be like that after a while, trust me. And I really have to go. Uh, thanks for the bagel. I’ll pay you for that.”

“Just don’t yell at your neighbors anymore for seeing snow and we’ll call it even. Good luck at work. I think you might need it. Also, I didn’t get your name.” The cold air left his face red and you hated yourself for how attractive he looked.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I’ll probably see you after work. Have a great day.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic but you knew that he was cute and you may have believed in Santa Claus for bringing a cute boy to be your next-door neighbor.

#Seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen kpop #joshua hong #joshua imagine #joshua fanfic #seventeen joshua #joshua imagines #joshua au #joshua oneshot #joshua scenarios #joshua svt #joshua fic #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #hong jisoo #jisoo x reader #jisoo imagines #jisoo fic #jisoo fluff #jisoo fanfic #seventeen jisoo #jisoo imagine #jisoo oneshot #jisoo au #jisoo scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop au

[peach-mangos]

Third Floor Soulmates

☾ byun baekhyun/do kyungsoo ☾ soulmates au/neighbors au/fluff/first meetings ☾ 2.1k ☾ can also read here

“Ahem—Mr Byun?” the cab driver says tentatively, afraid to startle his passenger, “we have arrived, sir” 

Baekhyun, despite his driver’s carefulness, startles in a fit of snorts and disgruntled sounds sitting upright squinting at his surroundings.

“M’right, kay’—” Baekhyun slurs. “Thank you, please, keep the change” he says handing over a wad of cash to his driver. It’s more than enough for the ride and then some. 

The cab driver takes it gratefully bidding Baekhyun goodbye as he watches him drunkenly stumble out of his cab. Waving goodbye, he then digs through his pockets in search of his keys as he tries to make his way towards his building. 

“Fuck” Baekhyun groans realizing his keys are missing. ‘You have got to be kidding me’ he thinks to himself. ‘Did he leave them at the club? Or did he leave them at home? Had he dropped them in the cab?. Without his keys there’s no way for him to get the building’s gate open, much less his own apartment door. 

He stares down at his phone and sighs. 

It’s nearly four a.m, there’s no way Jongdae’s awake. The nerd’s been asleep for hours by now, Baekhyun’s fooling himself if he thinks there’s any way his best friend’s going to hear the buzzer. 

Still, that doesn’t stop him from leaning against the building gate wall as he presses down on the buzzer waiting for a response. In the meantime, he also dials Jongdae’s phone number and hopes either of the two disturbances wake him up. 

“Worst roommate ever” Baekhyun hiccups letting up on the buzzer. He dials one more time, but of course, no answer.

lost my keys...love this for me

ur lit rally the w o r s t roommate?

dead to the world...i could be getting murdered in cold blood?

and you’ve got ur phone on do not disturb mode?

fuck u dae ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

im just gonna buzz everyone on our floor till I get an answer good luck looking at ur neighbors in the eye after tonight

After sending an onslaught of text messages to Jongdae, Baekhyun pockets his phone and looks back at the platinum square with an array of buttons and sighs. 

Squinting suspiciously, he recognizes Amber and Krystal’s apartment number right above his and Jongdae’s button and presses it praying to the lord almighty either of his upstairs neighbors are up.  

“Hello?” greets Amber, giggly and slightly slurred. Baekhyun heaves a sigh of relief.

“Dude, why’re you still awake?” he snorts when he hears the girl hiccup and burp all at once, shaking his head with a full on fond grin on his face. He’s got a bit of an idea why she’s still up by the sounds of her voice. 

“Well what the hell are you doing ringing my buzzer at nearly four in the morning?” she retorts.

“S’a valid question,” comes Krystal’s voice from somewhere near the speaker.

“Glad you asked. Might’ve lost my keys at the club. Might’ve left them home or honestly I might’ve left them inside the cab I just took home. Can’t really say at the moment” Baekhyun confesses.

“Wild night?” Amber muses, and Baekhyun snorts.

“Wildest. Buzz me in would ya? These leather pants are literally suffocating me, and I’m getting cold”

The last thing he hears is Krystal’s laugh before he’s being buzzed in. The gate unlocks and he is able to make his way inside their building. 

It is then that upon entering the building’s premises, Baekhyun encounters yet another problem. 

The front doors are locked, and as his luck would have it, the night shift receptionist and security have seemed to have taken a break. 

Damn it! Baekhyun cursed inwardly, tonight really just wasn’t his night was it. 

He should’ve listened to Jongdae and stayed in. But no, Baekhyun just had to go and be a thirsty little bitch and accept Chanyeol’s offer to go out. He’d promised him he’d get Minseok to come along, and if Baekhyun was being honest, he’d been itching to get into the older man’s pants ever since they shared a heated makeout session at Kim Junmyeon’s housewarming party—read; rave—last month. 

But alas, all men do is lie, and Chanyeol is no exception to that statement. 

Now, Baekhyun could have waited for the receptionist and security guard to come back, but quite frankly he was over tonight and all he really wanted was to get inside his apartment and pass the fuck out.

So he did what any other person would do. He went around the side of the building and began to count windows. Once he’d somewhat figured out which window led to his and Jongdae’s apartment, he pulled down the rusty and quite frankly, loud, stairs attached to the apartment window steel balconies. 

After three flights of stairs and two nearly falling of happenings, Baekhyun finally reaches his apartment window and cheers, praying Jongdae once again forgot to lock it before bed—he normally does, and Baekhyun has to remind him constantly that just because they live on the third floor doesn’t mean they’re immune to potentially getting robbed. 

“When the fuck did we move our couch?” Baekhyun grumbles as he swipes their curtains aside and comes face to face with the back of their couch.

He shrugs it off not having the energy to think about it much, then climbs over said couch falling face first into it and promptly passing out.

Kyungsoo huffs out a tired breath as he shuts down his laptop, removing his glasses to rub fiercely at his tired eyes.

After an entire day’s worth of research, brainstorming and writing, he had finally finished his History report and he was well due for some rest. He stretches on his desk chair, groaning as his stiff bones crack and pop in place after the long hours of him being hunched over his desk.

His eyes widen when he checks the time and sees it’s half past three. 

However, he realizes it’s Sunday, and aside from looking over his paper once again with fresh eyes and turning it in before midnight, he really doesn’t have much planned. He relishes the thought of being able to sleep in and sighs happily making his way towards his room.

“Finally” he groans as he pulls off the duvet on his bed and crawls into it, sighing in satisfaction as his head hits his soft pillows.

Kyungsoo’s halfway asleep when a creaky sound pulls him back into full consciousness. He waits a couple seconds, and when he hears nothing once again, he sinks back into his pillows and tries to slip back into slumber.

Not even a full minute later and Kyungsoo’s jolting awake at the sound of his living room window being pried open. Afraid he’s going insane from the lack of rest, he waits a bit before he hears the tall tale sounds of someone intruding into his home.

Shit, he thinks, the one time he forgets to check his window and this happens.

Nearly braning himself on his bedside table in his haste to search for a weapon, Kyungsoo detangles his socked feet from his bed sheets and rumages his room. He almost finds himself empty handed until his eyes land on his umbrella.

He almost cheers out loud.

Almost.

Quickly grabbing it, he slowly turns his bedroom door knob, and carefully opens his door. 

Tiptoeing down the hall towards his living room, he holds on tightly to said umbrella, heart hammering in his chest. If he dies tonight, Kyungsoo thinks, it would be such a shame he spent his last day on earth typing up a stupid History research paper. 

For a second there, Kyungsoo regrets not being more social and spontaneous. 

He finally reaches the living room, eyes scanning the immediate area, gaze landing on his open living room window then falling down to his couch where a large lump lies, curled in on itself. 

Judging from the whiny noises and soft breathing, Kyungsoo gathers it’s another human being.

He walks closer towards his couch, lowering his umbrella and stares at the sleeping person—sleeping boy to be exact.

He seems to be of no danger to Kyungsoo, if anything it appears—and smells—like he’s just drunk. Kyungsoo figures he must’ve gotten lost and confused in his inebriated state and somehow ended up in his living room.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Kyungsoo places his umbrella on the ground and inspects the boy slumped over his couch. 

He’s dressed in all black, in what appears to be a black cotton v-neck that’s ridden up to reveal a tummy and lower back splattered in beauty marks. He’s also in what appears to be the world’s tightest pair of leather pants, and Kyungsoo wonders for a second how long it must’ve taken to get those on. 

The intruder’s face was mostly covered by his bangs and Kyungsoo itched to push them back just to see if he recognized the boy currently drooling all over his suede couch. He couldn’t help but stare at the boy’s familiar pouty mouth. 

Kyungsoo had an inkling of who this could be, and his heart stuttered in his chest. Not sure of what else to do, he crouches near the stranger and pushes away his hair to get a better look and sure enough it was exactly who Kyungsoo had thought it was.

Byun Baekhyun of apartment 1C.

Unsure of what to do, Kyungsoo bites the inside of his cheek nervously. Should he wake him and send him on his merry way home? Or should he just let him sleep off the alcohol, and deal with this whole thing the following morning? 

Before he can decide anything on his own, Baekhyun twitches in his sleep startling a squeak out of Kyungsoo and sending him straight to the floor. In turn, Baekhyun jolted awake and frantically stared around.  

“Who are you?” Baekhyun questions, vision impared by his drunken state, as well as by his shaggy bangs. 

Kyungsoo’s breath gets caught in his throat, hand subconsciously rubbing at his chest as he stares in awe at Baekhyun. How is it that he’s been living in this apartment complex for nearly a month now, and this is actually his and Baekhyun’s first actual face to face encounter?

He clears his throat and chuckles, carefully choosing his words, not that it matters what he says. He’s pretty sure whatever leaves his lips now is surely marked on Baekhyun’s chest.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’re the one in my apartment after all” Kyungsoo says smiling softly, much too softly for someone who is talking to a supposed ‘stranger’ that just broke into their apartment.

“Oh my god, it’s the cute boy from 6C” Baekhyun mumbles, cheeks going crimson, his features going from conused to surprised to embarrassed in the span of a second. “Oh my god—did you—are we…” Baekhyun babbles finally registering their entire exchange.

“I guess so” Kyungsoo breathes out airily from his spot on the floor. Baekhyun in turn chuckles a little hysterically and flops back onto the couch. “Unbelievable” he mumbles to himself, and were it not for the smile on his face, Kyungsoo would’ve thought he was upset at their sudden discovery.

“Do Kyungsoo, by the way” Kyungsoo introduces himself, and he still can’t believe this is literally the first time they’ve ever spoken to one another since he’s moved in.

“Byun Baekhyun” he offers, with a small smile.

“Yeah, I know” Kyungsoo says sheepishly, and this time it’s his cheeks going crimson.

“You do?” Baekhyun asks tilting his head to the side.

“Jongdae” Kyungsoo tells him, “brought over some cookies from the both of you when I first moved in. Didn’t place a face to the name until a week later, but yeah, that’s how” he explains. “You think I’m cute?” Kyungsoo then asks a few beats later, slightly teasingly. 

Baekhyun groans throwing his arm over his face. 

“This isn’t happening” he wails.

“I mean that’s alright, it just so happens I think my soulmate is quite cute as well” Kyungsoo confesses.

“God I’m so drunk right now, is this really happening right now?”

Kyungsoo laughs softly and brushes Baekhyun’s bangs away from his face.

“You can crash on my couch, want a change of clothes to slip into?” Kyungsoo asks, “I doubt those are any comfortable to sleep in” he eyes Baekhyun’s pants and smirk.

“This is really happening” Baekhyun laughs in disbelief, “yeah, if it isn’t too much trouble, I’d really appreciate that”

Kyungsoo nods, and scurries off into his bedroom to search for an oversize t-shirt and some sweatpants for him.

“Thanks” Baekhyun says softly, gladly taking the spare change of clothes, cheeks once again flaming pink. 

“Night, Baek. See you in the morning. How do pancakes for breakfast sound?”

“Devine” Baekhyun smiles.

#exosnet #exo fic #baeksoo #baekdo #baeksoo fic #baekdo fic #mine: fic #mine: baeksoo fic

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: ~2K

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which everyone's panicking, and honestly Steven can't blame them.

First

Chapter 2: Knowing

Thankfully, they’re not alone when they warp into the temple. Pearl and Garnet are sitting at the counter, caught mid conversation, and Amethyst is flopped lazily across the couch with her arm hanging over the edge. Still shivering, Steven clings ever tighter to Bismuth’s arm, glancing with tear stained eyes between his Gem self and Garnet, the only one in his direct line of sight.

She shoots to her feet. Her mouth twists into an expression laced with more raw panic than he’s ever seen her convey in his life, and that thought alone hurts enough to shoot a physical pang through his nerves.

“Steven! Bismuth!"

“Ah, there you are,” Pearl greets amicably, and begins to turn to face the warp pad. “We were wondering where yo- oh good heavens!!"

“Dude...” Amethyst says as she shoots upright on the couch, her face turning a paler shade of purple.

He feels Bismuth’s form grow tense at their now inescapable attention, her fingers wrapping around his prone body just a little bit tighter. The pink clone generated by his gemstone glitches, the edges of his hard-light form morphing to fuzzy static that phases in and out of shape. Simultaneously, Steven winces at the uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles tingling through his limbs.

Any and all shell-shocked confusion dies at the unquestionable sight of a cracked Gem. His family rushes across the room to the warp pad in no more than a nanosecond flat, their shrill, panicked voices and Bismuth’s overlapping each other until he can barely pick out what any one of them is saying. His ears begin to ring. More arms than his disoriented senses can count dance under his back, and before long a thick blanket is wrapped around him, (is that his entire bedspread?), and he finds himself secure in Garnet’s hold, halfway across the room by the loft stairs. Safe! Admitting it leaves his stomach gnawing with nausea, because it feels so much like a blatant betrayal against the forgiving, accepting person he aspires to be, but it’s a relief to no longer be in the mercy of Bismuth’s grasp.

The Gems continue to fuss and argue about goodness knows what, their faces blurring in and out of focus as the seconds tick on. Notably, Pearl’s voice rises above all the others. She kneels next to Other Steven, wrapping her arm protectively around him. (He may be imagining it, but he swears he can feel the phantom whispers of her touch on his own shoulder.) He’s mostly gotten used to that baseline dull ache left behind in place of his gemstone by now, but whenever his counterpart’s form flickers and warps due to the crack that’s no doubt splayed across the rose quartz’s surface, that ache spikes into sensations uncomfortable enough to make his toes curl. If this is the pain he’s able to feel without his gem altogether, then what kind of agony is Other Steven in? His eyes brim with hot, sloppy tears, a sharp whimper passing his lips. The others are far too busy arguing to notice.

“—took him to the lower forge alone?? What were you thinking? It’s far too hot for him down there!”

Bismuth pales. “I’m- I honestly didn’t think about—“

“‘Kay, but literally none of this explains this freaky clone action,” Amethyst butts in, jutting her finger towards the pink Steven standing motionless in Pearl’s embrace. “Somehow he split entirely apart from his gem, so—“

“Enough!” Garnet says. One of her hands gently strokes his forehead, a stark difference from the impatience etched within the tension in her face. “This entire conversation is irrelevant, we should be—“

“Y'guys,” he croaks, but they're all so caught up in argument that he's brushed right over, which... kinda hurts. A lot.

“—how can he fuse with his gem half again if he’s completely hu—“

Pearl bristles. “It is not irrelevant, something terrible’s happened and Bismuth hasn’t explained herself!”

“Pearl, I’m trying, but you won’t—“

“I don’t care how any of it happened!” Garnet roars. Even though it’s not directed at him, he flinches at the harshness of her anger. “His gem is cracked!!”

The room falls silent.

He nuzzles his head into the crook of her arm, feeling ever safer in her embrace. "Thank you," he whispers. She responds with a gentle squeeze.

To his side, Bismuth squirms a little, nervously folding her hands together and apart over and over...

“This is all my fault,” she says brokenly. He’s almost positive there’s tears budding at the corners of her eyes.

“This isn’t about us,” Garnet says, more sensitively this time. “This is about helping Steven.” Then, in a whisper only for him: “Hold on. You’re gonna be all right, I promise.”

Steven gets the sense this comment is more for her benefit than his. He’s unsure if that should scare him or not.

(How many futures has she just watched where he di- No, he thinks. Not going there, nope nope nope.)

Amethyst hobbles up onto the warp pad then, urgently gesturing for everyone else to join her. “Well come on, no time to waste, yeah? We gotta get the two Stevens to Rose’s fountain!”

The other Gems agree readily, and follow behind. Bismuth’s steps are stiff and stilted. Meanwhile, Pearl leads his quiet pink counterpart by the hand, assisting him up the stairs of the warp amid his glitching. Out of everyone, the blank shock written clear as day across her face suggests she’s especially haunted by the existence of that hard-light version of himself. More so than everyone else. Carefully regarding her as Garnet carries him— still wrapped like a burrito— in his blanket, Steven can’t help but wonder why.

The warp activates, enveloping them in its glow. In seconds, they’re all coursing through the warp stream at record speed. One thing he knows for sure: he’s super glad he has his bedspread with him, because this strange little pocket of space hung between dimensions has a knack for being chilly, especially outside of the stream. It’d suck to start shivering again right after finally settling down.

Reassuringly, the promise of sunrise greets him in vibrant stripes of pink and orange as they promptly arrive at their location. It‘s night back in Beach City, but he’s pretty sure Mom’s fountain is somewhere in Europe. Maybe France? So, the sunrise makes sense. Large trees and shrubs block out the horizon in every direction, growing wild without constant nurturing. Still, it all looks leagues nicer (and infinitely less threatening) than the first time he came here. A spike of tingling runs up his nerves, reminding him that unfortunately, with his gem cracked, (and still no clue how he split apart from it in the first place), now’s no time to waste sightseeing. His chest tightens as he suddenly realizes he’s missing one crucial family member. One family member he— even if it’s a bit of a childish thought— really wants holding his hand right about now.

“Wait, I need Dad,” he speaks up, voice hoarse and shaky.

Garnet hugs him closer to her chest at that admission. She presses her forehead against his, whispering some reassurance he can’t quite catch.

“Amethyst, go back and fetch Greg,” Pearl says. “You can meet us at the fountain.”

She nods, for once not even arguing with her orders. “On it."

Her long white hair ripples in waves behind her as she sprints back to the warp pad. Soon enough, he spots a column of cyan light shooting up into the sky. His fingers knead the edge of the blanket he's wrapped in, desperately trying to keep his mind from entertaining all the worst possible outcomes. It's becoming harder to ignore his pink double's suffering, even though he's remained near-silent this whole time. Anyways, he really, really hopes she'll be back with his dad soon.

Steven's attention returns to the others, and he watches as Pearl’s eyes narrow slightly, her glance sliding back to Bismuth. “When all this is over, we’ll be discussing things like upholding sleep curfews, practical safety tactics, and the key differences between Gem and human anatomy.“

Her brow tightly creasing, she smooths out the front of her apron. “Yup. Received and understood.”

“We’d also appreciate more context on how all this happened in the first place,” Garnet says, gesturing between him and the Other Steven hand-in-hand with the tall, salmon haired Gem.

Without any other forewarning, Other Steven’s previously glassy expression snaps into alertness. “Breaking point,” he blurts out for the first time since the forge, tone flat. “Bismuth cracked me—“ a particularly violent glitch overwhelms the stability of his hard-light body, his words fragmenting— “htiw a gnikaerb tniop.”

The strength of Garnet’s hold on him triples, as if in her fury she’s unintentionally forgotten about how she’s carrying him in the first place. He winces, totally not thinking about how he’s watched her poof corruptions by squeezing them. Nope, nosiree, not at all.

“Uh, Garnet?”

“She did what??!” Pearl says, whirling towards the individual in question.

“Okay, okay!” Bismuth backs a few steps away, terror curling across her face at the sight of her looming anger. “So I know it sounds bad, and well, it kinda is, but I swear if you give me the chance to I’ll expla—“

“NO!”

The stone pathway splinters under the hard-light Steven’s feet as he yells, tipping everyone off balance. Pearl and Bismuth stumble and fall. Garnet takes a knee, and somehow avoids dropping him. Around them, a handful of frail limbs on a nearby tree crack and collapse to the ground. Bewildered and genuinely frightened by this display, Steven desperately locks eyes with the other him, watching his form endlessly warp and morph and flicker into impossible shapes. For a fragment of a second he swears his double’s irises flare hot pink.

“You TRUH mih!” Other Steven shouts at Bismuth, his fury pinning her in her spot, even in garbled phrases. “Uoy deirt ot RETTAHS—“

He disappears with a poof of smoke, retreating into the rose quartz gem. His gem. Immediately all phantom pains recede, settling back into that dull emptiness sitting in the pit of his stomach. For but a heartbeat, the gemstone remains airborne, its facets glittering in the glow of the morning sun. It’s big, larger than even seems possible, the exposed pentagonal surface only counting for a fraction of its full size. Somehow hidden within him this whole time, the sides of the pink gem flare outward and jut into a steep point. Pearl audibly gasps, slamming both hands over her mouth. Garnet and Bismuth recoil at the sight.

Then gravity asserts control, and it tumbles down, down, careening towards the hard stone like dead weight. Before it can shatter entirely on the ground, Pearl dives with the finesse of a polished gymnast, catching the gem and clutching it tight to her chest as if to obscure it from the others.

“Pearl?” Steven croaks.

Her face is white as milk, and her slight frame is shuddering. “You were never supposed to...”

“B-but this doesn’t make sense! That wasn’t- you’re not a rose quartz,” Bismuth stutters, carefully standing to her feet. His stomach sinks at the accusation, his brow furrowing with confusion. “That gemstone, it’s—“

In all the years to come, he doubts he’ll ever forget the visceral fear laced within Garnet’s whisper, fear not for him, but of him:

“—it’s Pink Diamond.”

Notes:

Cracked/glitching Gem Steven's dialogue, for ease of reading:

“Breaking point. Bismuth cracked me with a breaking point.”

“NO! You HURT him! You tried to SHATTER—“

Basically, he was in such poor shape that he retreated back into his gem (in an futile attempt) to heal. He was exerting far too much energy there in his anger, poor thing.

__

Note, none of the CGs actually suspected Bismuth intentionally hurt Steven until that bombshell. Before that, their assumption was that she took him on a lil' midnight sightseeing trip and he got cracked/split by accident. I figure they'd have no reason to suspect any foul play before that.

And Gem Steven... he finally spoke up when he had information of relevance to add to the conversation. Garnet outright requested more context on how the two Stevens split, gesturing towards him as she did, and so he told her. The argument in the temple was more of an argument about him, and not including him, so he remained quiet. And then later, he's calling Bismuth the heck out on her attempt at squirreling away from the blame. He's... very, very protective of his other half.

#su #steven universe #su fanfiction #su fanfic #garnet #pearl #amethyst #bismuth #my writing stuff #crack the paragon

[abyss-mal-blog1]

current mind-space//word vomit

it’s amazing how much can change in a few days, but it hasn’t been a week since my finals ended and i already felt so different. i have been doing f45 everyday this week (if not then some kind of workout, but i’ve really been into that recently). i am feeling so much better now without deadlines, sometimes i don’t know if i function better under pressure or not. i guess not, but then it’s amazing how much i can do and achieve under pressure. i need the right amount of pressure, and this semester it has been a little difficult for me to get around that. 

last friday was kinda my last day of finals, i just had an essay to submit, and i am disappointed in myself and my work ethic because i submitted it at 9pm, went to my cousin’s (disappointing) party, and then professor emailed me to say that she cannot read Pages format (seriously smh @ my tardiness!!!), only got back at 1am that night and sent my mediocre essay. i am a little sad about it because i know that is not my 100%. idk why but college so far has just been a series of 80% effort. this paper was an interesting one, on airbnb, on the sharing economy, it’s a performance studies paper where i analyze the hospitality platform in terms of host-user relationship, parasitism and (attempted) to talk about free online labor. it is a little too late now but i kinda want to work on it again and like, submit for feedback. maybe ill ask taylor. 

last saturday was kinda meh, i agreed to go to a *social* kinda event at a bar/club at chelsea, held for Asian-ivy-alumni-people that yanlin invited me too. it was at up&up and honestly a little...i didn’t enjoy it at all. the music sucked, the people were either too dorky or gross or old or weird, and the whole time i just kept saying to myself, “never again”. they said it was open bar but they only served absolut, which was shit. and then my friend’s two friends were...i feel sorry that this was their first clubbing experience. at the beginning my reaction was look at all these ivy alumni! get hitched with one of them for ~da connectsx~ (and nothing else) but no kidding i was actually interested in talking to them just to get to know what people who graduated from ivies are up to, and what are they doing at such events...and are they actually enjoying themselves because it was really kinda gross. met my friend’s friend who seemed like a really smart engineer (he asked for my number the next day lol), and a german dude at the bar who didn’t want to get me a drink. all i needed that night was a drink.....(i’m glad i didn’t drink tho because recently drinking has made me feel all kinds of bad)  we had ramen after at ramen-ya (most probably the worst ramen and charsiew i’ve had but what can we do at 3am and my friend wanted noodle and soup...)

on sunday i KNow i should have left my house earlier to workout but i didn’t. i was angry at myself that i didn’t. instead, i stayed at home and emotion-ate. i must have eaten more green bean soup than my stomach would have liked. what else...avocado? i remember..two bananas? god. this was the day i felt like i was n’s boyfriend because i had to do what she wanted to do. i know i had agreed on going, but at that point i really wanted to go thrifting or something. i mean when i got to central park it was fine and things were good but the whole day just felt like i was kinda pulled into doing something that wasn’t my first choice of plans, not that i didn’t enjoy myself lying under the sun at the park. it just felt like i was accompanying someone. i was half an hour late to meet her as well, and half heartedly got a burrito-wrap at newsbar. if you think about it it is really kinda funny, we’re just buying food and taking the subway to this grass patch 50 blocks away. we didn’t walk much, we literally only stayed at a little grassy slope overlooking the baseball pitch. anyway we went to a dance class after (the class was an hour long but i felt like n had asked me about when and what time we should book the classes for more than an hour by text so i just got really sick of it) i rushed home and got dinner with my uncle who’s in town for my cousin’s graduation. i was surprised that he chose the same japanese restaurant again, after dissing it half a year ago we ate here. the omakase was crazy and it cost 230 per person. (for the most expensive set) it was also kinda dumb because you aren’t allowed to order a different omakase set from anyone else - everyone on the table has to order the same - because of “timing”. i wonder if this is how it is in japanese omakase etiquette, but in any case it really earned them a hefty amount because my uncle decided to get 230 for all of us. qiyang didn’t like and said qiqi had bad taste, hahaha. the food wasn’t bad, i mean it’s japanese fusion, but the prices were way too steep for the taste. anyway enough about the food, during the dinner i think we talked about many things though. i kinda wanted to talk to my uncle individually because i think he is the only one who knows about ah gong, but he was sick, and i could tell he was exhausted. my aunt got a little impatient because i didn’t arrange plans to take their furniture and they were going to throw all of them away and it was actually the first time i’ve seen her get so worked up - but at the same time trying to control her emotions - because she was talking to me. i could tell she was annoyed though but i tried not to take it personally, and arranged it tomorrow. 

arranging the moving stuff was kinda last minute, i was walking to the library for work one day and i saw a truck that said MakeSpace. i assumed it was a kind of moving company and so i looked them up. they seemed to be pretty okay in terms of their services and so i decided to try them out. confirmation and setting up an appointment went pretty smoothly, except for the part where the guy i think his name was joseph, asked me to give my credit card details over the phone. idk why i did that! i stopped though, and asked him why, to which he replied he wanted to key in with the coupon code. this service has so much gimmicks within the first 2-3 minutes on the phone he was already telling me about how the first pick up is free, and that he will deduct 100$ off the first month...when people give you discounts too easily it just feels like a ploy and a thing they give to everyone, it’s not anything special and it’s probably calculated inside whatever we have to pay. anyway, i was just thinking it would be cheaper (assuming the maximum that i would have to pay is ~$500, as i confirmed with them on the phone yesterday), it’d still be cheaper than starting an apartment lease now and going through the trouble of finding two subletters. 

well. idk, it’s also easy to have things all moved in, i have to find a place to store my perishables!

moving is so much work, and storing things. this reminds me of my paper on airbnb and about the digital nomad lifestyle. it is interesting though, that this is what it has become. but the homogenized aesthetic is something i really cannot stand, in airbnb, in coffeeshops around the world..i am sure you know what i’m talking about. a new york times writer did something about this - he termed it “Airspace” - and apparently it originated from Brooklyn. I guess that’s where the art/avant-garde stuff started. well. keep a look out im gonna write a blogpost about that 

moving on 

nat came to sleepover on sunday night and a few days after because the school kicks you out of the dorms you pay so much for right after your final ends. i forgot if we did something fun but i probably just fell asleep. 

on monday i think i went to f45 and did cardio at Dumbo with Gi. he seems like a pretty nice trainer, the first time i went it was him and another girl Bertha (i think my first f45 was last tuesday) and i felt like i had two personal trainers with me - Gi was cheering me on and Bertha was doing it with me. it felt like such a good workout, one of the best ive had in a while. then work, where i arranged the movers stuff. i also realized i bought the wrong date for my flight ticket as my friends and had to buy one more...............

tuesday was the same f45 in the morning, and the bobst after. didn’t really get much work done at bobst. oh i also viewed a 3BR flex at 160. hella expensive and small, and dates didn’t work out anyway. also the broker who brought us to view the apartment was a very nice tall french man and his name was jean-francois which i couldn’t pronounce and asked nat but still called him jean as in jeen instead of john. this is why i have to learn french. you’re embarrassing. i also went to the itp/ima spring show with shubham which was super cool. there were many cool ideas, and i just wonder if i could create something like that. i didn’t get to see all of the exhibits which i regret, but i remember a few notable projects. one was an installation made with keyboards that randomly clicks, but when you hold your phone up it’ll stop. it’s made using 3d gestures. there’s also one at a gallery for surveillance, this team had a thing they call facebox, and it’s literally a box, that when you open it has a webcam that would capture your face, find you on facebook, and print out an invoice/receipt on how much you have earned for this giant tech company.  what else...an AR project that when you scan a food,  it shows you where the food comes from. nat said that she would love it if menus have something they could scan and then have pictures appear in ~holographic~ format, or maybe in the nearer future something on your phone that shows you a picture of the picture of the food. but isn’t it a surprise tho? sometimes the fun’s in the surprise, you read the description, you know what are the foods you’ll eat, leaving room to imagine or be surprised by how the chef puts it together! anyway, went for dinner with nat and jenny - got vegan shwarma (definitely wasn’t worth $14) and went to get crepes with will after. 

wednesday we were gonna go to the dmv but we weren’t prepared. nat also needed to get her passport and she was lazy. wow the number of times i mentioned her, it feels like she’s my boyfriend at this point. talked to famz, sister, and beatrix. am currently considering if i should even go to beijing or just go straight home. fuck. went to bobst for work but no one was there i was just really sleepy. viewed an apartment at 55 morton (it’s a nice quiet residential street that seems to be tucked away from the loud cars and bars and people) then i went to f45 again-varsity!!! cardio!!!, walked across brooklyn bridge (a little regret although i wanted to walk, but my bag was heavy and there were too many tourists to brisk walk) 

also the reason for this is that after my soba/miso/salad/shrimp dinner last night i was just watching a bunch of netflix shows and it was probably the caffeine from puerto rican roasting company - the barista made me a chai cappuccino with almond milk (3 SHOTS!!!)

me and nat couldn’t sleep, i really think i slept for an hour. i watched so many different shows, yoko and john’s documentary, while we were young, anthony bourdain, i was seriously flipping through all the shows and alternating between amazonprme and youtube and netflix and i even tried watching peaceful cuisine and making the brightness lower and had the sleep mode on and wow i just couldn’t sleep

so yeah the birth of this word vomit 

i am going to create more things

[plsdonttellmay]

|3!7(|-|

A look into the Iron Kids group chat between Harley, Peter, and Riri. 

Sequel to Bold of You

Translation for Harley’s nonsense at the bottom

Spider-Son: @Son Prime Mr. Stark totally just admitted that Riri was his favorite.

Son Prime: wut???? thts blsht >:((((

Spider-Son changed their name to Pun-Son

Pun-Son: IKR?

Dad’s Favorite: HA! I fucking told you

Son Prime: fuk off riri

Pun-Son: Ya, this is a private conversation.

Dad's Favorite: Y’all are the dumbasses having a “private conversation” in the group chat

Pun-Son: Shit

Really?

I thought @ing him would make it private.

Oops

Son Prime: pete i lov n rspct u but ur a fukn dumbass

Dad's Favorite: This is why dad loves me most

Pun-Son: ;’((((

Whatever.

Anyway

So,,,,

The rest of the team knows you guys exist now.

Son Prime: shiiiiiiiiiiiit

Dad's Favorite: What happened?

Is everyone okay?

Are you okay?

Is Tony okay?

Pun-Son: Ya, everyone's fine, dw.

Son Prime: thn wut hpnd????

Pun-Son: IDK???

Like

Mr. Stark just said I did a good job

And then fucking Captain America was like

“Hey, everybody it's Peter Parker!”

Dad's Favorite: Damn. So now they all know?

Son Prime: thats ruf buddy

Pun-Son: Nah, it's fine.

I panicked and then said that Mr. Stark had lots of kids

And that Peter and Spider-Man were totally different kids.

Son Prime: wow. cnt blev u managed 2 lie 2 captain america

i figd he cld smell lies

or that u would spontaneously combust if u tried

tht was specific 2 u btw

Dad's Favorite: Has anyone ever told you you're a dick?

Son Prime: not 2 my face but thts what i assume theyre saying wen they dub chek tht mr tony isnt my real dad.

Dad's Favorite: Not a bad assumption ngl

Pun-Son: Also, point of order, didn't lie

I just,,,,,,,

Implied.

Heavily.

To the point of lying.

But didn't cross that line.

Son Prime: wow pete ur a saint

Dad's Favorite: They bought it? Just like that?

Pun-Son: TBH they were way more interested in the group chat.

Like, they legit forgot they were trying to figure out who Spider-Man is.  

I told Cap your usernames.

Dad's Favorite: Well I'm glad the team knows the truth now

Son Prime: wut? abt mr tony runin a daycare?

Dad's Favorite: No about me being his favorite

Dad's Favorite: Hey guys??? College fucking blows. I'm gonna murder whoever came up with it

Son Prime: sup riri?

Dad's Favorite: Literally just told you. College blows

The Live-in: *break dances gently*

What's wrong, Riri?

Son Prime: atm u if i had 2 ges

Dad's Favorite: Mostly that you're trying to comfort me via meme.

SHIT

Beat me to it

Son Prime: :p

The Live-in: You guys are the worst.

Dad's Favorite: You're the one who decided to be the middle child

The Live-in: WTF, no, I didn't??

Also, Harley is literally less than 4 months older than me.

Son Prime: god pete ur practically an infant cmpared to me

The Live-in: -_______-

Can we go back to talking about Riri’s problems now?

Please?

For the love of science.

Dad's Favorite: Nah I'm good actually. Roasting you is way more interesting

The Live-in: THE W O R S T

Son Prime: srsly tho. u ok riri?

Dad's Favorite: Yeah I'm fine. Just got assigned a group project

The Live-in: Was it at least a class you have a friend in?

Dad's Favorite: Peter literally everyone in that class is 7+ years older than me. If I had friends do you think I'd talk to you two?

The Live-in: Yes

Because you love us.

You've said so.

Son Prime: hes got a point

Dad's Favorite: Lies and slander

The Live-in: Seriously, though.

Are you good?

Dad's Favorite: Yeah. It's not like they're actively mean to me or anything. It just sucks not having friends

Son Prime: tell us if they start bn dicks. pete n i will kick thr asses. we r still ur big bros

Dad's Favorite: Yeah I know <3

God I can’t wait until you two are finally here and I actually have someone to talk to for once.

The Live-in: Yeah!!!!

We should get an apartment.

And a dog.

A secret dog.

Dad’s Favorite: Why is the dog secret???

The Live-in: Because I can’t have a dog at my apartment.

And your mom is allergic to dogs.

And Harley’s little sister is scared of dogs.

So it would have to live with dad over the summer.

And he won’t let us get a dog if he knows ahead of time.

That’s why a secret dog.

Dad’s Favorite: Hell yes secret dog.

The Live-in: I vote pitbull.

Son Prime: sum1 convinse me not 2 murder ths lady

Peter PARKOUR: ?????????

???????

?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!?

Harley, WTF you can't just say that and then not elaborate.

Dad's Favorite: Siding with Peter here. Who are you trying to murder Keener?

Peter PARKOUR: Dude.

Seriously??

Are you literally ignoring us right now?

HARLEY, YOU HAVE YOUR READ RECEIPTS ON!

Son Prime: Read: 3:23

Dad's Favorite: Harley I swear to god you're going in the nearest lake first time we meet

Peter PARKOUR: Wait.

Hold on a damn minute.

Are you telling me?

The two of you haven't actually met??

Like IRL???

Dad's Favorite: Yeah. I mean we Skype and text plenty but we've never been in the same room

Peter PARKOUR: That's wild??

I mean

I know the three of us haven't been together

But I figured you had met without me.

Son Prime: wait. wen did u 2 meet?

Dad's Favorite: Figures that's what gets his attention instead of murder

Peter PARKOUR: When I went to tour MIT?

Have you and Mr. Stark not gone yet?

Son Prime: nope

Peter PARKOUR: Why not??

Son Prime: i dunno. keep puttin it off

Dad's Favorite: I smell a lie. I don't know what it is but you better watch your back Harley. I will find out

Son Prime: ok baskin robin

Peter PARKOUR: Can we get back to the murder?

I feel like we glossed over that.

Son Prime: no

Dad's Favorite: No point. Either they decided to leave Harley alone

Peter PARKOUR: Or??

Dad's Favorite: Or they're dead

Son Prime: & ull nvr kno

Peter PARKOUR: You two need to chill.

And meet.

Seriously, we've been talking for a year

And you two haven't even laid eyes on each other.

H O W?

Dad's Favorite: Let's start with the fact that we live like 20 hours away from each other?

Peter PARKOUR: I'm not even going to grace that with an answer.

Actually

I am

Mr. Stark has like a fleet of planes??

You could literally make a day trip out of it.

Son Prime: hes actually got a point…

Peter PARKOUR: I almost always have a point.

You two just ignore me.

Because you're assholes.

Dad's Favorite: That's fair

Dad's Favorite: @Son Prime 

I saw this and thought of you

Peter In The Middle: WHAT

THE

FUCK

IS THAT THING EVEN REAL??

Dad's Favorite: Lol yeah. Saw it at the thrift store

Son Prime: What I want to know is why the FUCK it reminded you of me.

Peter In The Middle: Oh damn.

He broke out the capitals and full words.

He's serious.

Son Prime: Actually it's just a new phone Mr. Tony sent me. Can't figure out how to turn off the damn autocorrect

Dad's Favorite: Why is it that you 2 are geniuses but can't figure out how phones work half the time?

Son Prime: Excuse you this is 1 of those prototype StarkPhones that literally nobody knows how to use yet.

Peter in the Middle: Are you really never gonna let the group chat thing die?

Dad's Favorite: No

Son Prime: Absolutely not.

Peter in the Middle: It was one (1) time you assholes.

Son Prime: I feel like we’re forgetting about the horror show that somehow reminded Riri of me.

Peter in the Middle: I was.

Trying to, at least.

Thanks for the reminder.

Dad’s Favorite: I’m not forgetting. Ever

Son Prime: Explain???

Dad’s Favorite: Should I tho?

Peter in the Middle: Depends.

Do you want me to show Mr. Stark The Video?

Dad’s Favorite: You wouldn’t

Peter in the Middle: Try me, bitch.

Son Prime: Video????

Dad’s Favorite: Don’t worry about it

Peter in the Middle: I’ll send it to you later.

Dad’s Favorite: I hate you

Peter in the Middle: :D

Cow mug.

Now.

Dad’s Favorite: It says Tennessee on it.

Peter in the Middle: Wait.

That’s it?

No inside joke????

Dad’s Favorite: Nope

Peter in the Middle: What the fuck?

Now I feel dumb.

Dad’s Favorite: :))))))

Son Prime: |-|4 ! |=!6(_)|23|) !7 0(_)7

Dad's Favorite: What the fuck does that even say??

Peter in the Middle: Is that???

Even approaching English??

Son Prime: |\|0 !7$ |_337

Dad's Favorite: Stop

Son Prime: |\/|4|{3 |\/|3

Dad's Favorite has kicked Son Prime out of the Iron Kids group

Peter in the Middle: Harley is texting me

Saying to tell you to unblock him.

He has something important to say.

Dad's Favorite has added Son Prime to the Iron Kids group

Son Prime:

|3!7(|-|

Dad's Favorite has kicked Son Prime out of the Iron Kids group

Peter in the Middle: Fair and valid.

Dad's Favorite has kicked Peter in the Middle out of the Iron Kids group

Dad's Favorite: Finally I am free

Son Prime: guess who got his xseptns letter!!!!!!!!

Dad’s Favorite: Holy shit!!!! Harley that’s fucking amazing!!!!!!

Potor Purkur: Yessssssss!!!!

Dude, that’s amazing!!!!!!!!!!

Also????

How did you get yours early???

MIT letters aren’t supposed to go out for another week??

Did Mr. Stark pull strings?

BUT ALSO CONGRATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Son Prime: na tony dnt do nythng

Potor Purkur: ???????????

Son Prime: xseptns snt 4 mit

Dad’s Favorite: Was it a backup or something?

Son Prime: or smthn

Dad’s Favorite: I swear this is worse than pulling teeth. Spill.

Son Prime: i nvr actuly applied 4 mit

Dad’s Favorite: So that’s the real reason you never came to visit. You weren’t just putting it off.

Potor Purkur: Did you ever even plan on going to MIT?

Son Prime: hell no. ive had ths place n mind since middle school

Potor Purkur: Well?

What is it?

Come on, dude.

Son Prime: u hv 2 prms not 2 tell mr tony

Dad’s Favorite: Sure.

Son Prime: com on @Potor Purkur u gotta prms

Potor Purkur: I promise.

Well, I promise to try.

I’m kind bad at secrets, actually.

But so long as he doesn’t ask

I’m fine.

I promise.

Son Prime: how do u evn hv a scret id @ ths point

Potor Purkur: Honestly??

No idea.

All of Queens should know by now TBH

But

That has literally nothing to do with your college.

Dad’s Favorite: Yeah cmon Harls. Spill.

Son Prime: I’m totally serious right now. Don’t tell Mr. Tony. I want  to tell him myself.

Potor Purkur: Promise.

Dad’s Favorite: On my life.

Son Prime: ok hr it goz.

im goin to caltech

guys?

its bn lik 5 min. wts up

Potor Purkur: Holy sHIT

Are you serious??

Dad’s Favorite: You men caltech as in the school in Pasadena California? MIT’s biggest rival since ever? The school Tony loudly talks about how much he hates? THAT caltech?

Son Prime: …

…

…

yes

Potor Purkur: Holy shit.

*_*_*_*_*

Spider-Son: Hey, guys?

I think dad might have accidentally,,,,,,,,

Built a murder bot.

Again.

Dad's Favorite: W H A T

Son Prime: u ok? r u fiting it???

Spider-Son: No.

No, you see,,,,

The murder bot,,,,,,,

Is actually,,,,,,,,,,,

Karen.

Dad's Favorite: …

Son Prime: ..............

Dad's Favorite: Explain

Spider-Son: Well.

You know how my suit has an Instant Kill Mode?

And Karen keeps trying to make me use it?

Dad's Favorite: Yeah??

Son Prime: i dnt thnk tht counts as “accidentally"

jst irresponsible

Spider-Son: That's what I thought too.

But we're in the jet.

Headed for the mission.

And I joke that I should use IKM.

And Mr. Stark freaks out.

Dad's Favorite: Why???

Spider-Son: Here's the thing.

Mr. Stark.

Didn't make an Instant Kill Mode.

Karen did that.

By herself.

Dad's Favorite: Holy shit

Son Prime: dude wut the FUCK

Spider-Son: I K N O W

Son Prime: uve befriended her at least. hopfully she remains loyal during the robo revolution.

Spider-Son: Karen says hi BTW.

Dad's Favorite: Fantastic. Maybe she'll spare us as well

Spider-Son: Karen says, and I quote, “I don't know about that.”

Son Prime: /sweats/

Dad's Favorite: I'm not even sure how I feel about this tbh

On the one hand: possibly evil robot

On the other: if she's joking this is some seriously cool coding

Son Prime: i have xactly 0 mixed feelings. murder bot bad

Spider-Son: Mr. Stark offered to change her code when we got back.

Son Prime: thk god

Spider-Son: I said no.

Son Prime: W H Y

Spider-Son: Because I love Karen just the way she is.

And she loves me.

Dad's Favorite: Okay, I've decided. That is a seriously cool ai

Son Prime: a srsly cool ai thts gonna kill us all

Spider-Son: Karen promises to spare you.

If you buy me a milkshake.

Son Prime: i cnt bleve my terminator trauma is being taken advantage of by a murder bot.

Spider-Son: :P

Dad's Favorite: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Spider-Son: Oh my God

You actually sent me money for a milkshake.

Nice.

I'm getting strawberry.

Son Prime: fuk u

Son Prime: @Dad's Favorite wut r u doin n june

Dad's Favorite: Probably nothing? Idk I might take an online class. Mostly just hanging out at home

Son Prime: so u dnt hav ny plans 4 vacay or nythng

Dad's Favorite: Not that I know of??

Son Prime: wuts the prob tht u could get ur mom to let you go smwher 4 the month

Dad's Favorite: Depends??

What's with all the leading questions?

Son Prime: bcuz i just told my mom tht mr tony nvitd the 3 of us 2 stay at the compound in june

Dad's Favorite: He did?? Why didn't he say anything??

Son Prime: bcuz he dnt ask. im the 1 plan plannin it

Dad's Favorite: Harley what the actual fuck. Have you even asked Tony?

Son Prime: no thts peters job

Dad's Favorite: Wait Peter's in on it too? How long have you two been planning this?

Son Prime: bout 20 mins. & pete dsnt no yet

Dad's Favorite: Again wtf. Why don't you do it?

Son Prime: hv u SEEN peters puppy dog eyes

speakin of

@The Live-in nswer ur phone

@The Live-in

@The Live-in

@The Live-in

Dad's Favorite: @The Live-in

@The Live-in

@The Live-in

Son Prime: @The Live-in

@The Live-in

@The Live-in

@The Live-in

The Live-in: Jesus Christ.

You two are awful.

I was in chemistry.

Don't you two ever go to class?

Son Prime: y bother

Dad's Favorite: I do but I know how to text in class

The Live-in: Like I said.

Awful.

Son Prime: wtevr. cn u do it or no?

The Live-in: What exactly am I even doing?

Dad's Favorite: Pretty sure you're convincing dad to let the 3 of us stay at the compound over June.

The Live-in: Oh.

Yeah.

That shouldn't be hard.

Like at all.

He's about to pick me up from school.

I'll ask in just a sec.

Son Prime: c? told u it wld b ez

The Live-in: HE SAID YES

Well, he said yes so long as we can get our moms/aunt to agree.

BUT STILL

Dad's Favorite: Holy shit!!

The Live-in: I KNOW!!

Son Prime: wer gonna get n2 so much bullshit.

The Live-in: B]

Dad's Favorite: B]

Son Prime: B]

Spider-Son: Guys, I may not come back from this mission alive.

Tell Ned I’ve always had a crush on him

Wait.

Shit.

That was just supposed to sound dumb and dramatic.

Not like something to actually worry about.

I’ll be fine.

Mr. Stark won’t let me go on the super dangerous missions.

Son Prime: i swr 2 fuk im gonna kill u parker

Dad’s Favorite: Yeah maybe that wasn’t exactly the best way to start that off.

Also if Ned doesn’t already know you’re madly in love with him then there’s no hope for either of you.

Spider-Son: #rude

One day I’ll get Ned to fall in love with me.

Then you’ll be sorry.

Dad’s Favorite: Oh honey

Son Prime: stop w/ petes crush. i wnna no y he thnks hes gonna die

Spider-Son: H I M

Dad’s Favorite: Christ what’s Rogers done now?

Spider-Son: He’s just doing That Thing again.

The one where he calls me kid and son.

I h a t e it, and IDK how to make him stop

Dad's Favorite: /Hamilton voice/ I'm not your son

Son Prime: congrats on not str8 up murdering him yet

Spider-Son: God he’s just so??

I don't know what, but I hate it.

I swear to God if he benches me again this mission I'm going to strangle him with his star-spangled tights.

Dad's Favorite: You gonna beat him upside the head until he sees…

Stars?

Spider-Son: I HATE YOU!!

I WAS TRYING TO BE MAD

AND NOW I'M GIGGLING!

NOBODY TAKES ME SERIOUS WHEN I GIGGLE!!

Son Prime: nbdy takes u srsly evr

Spider-Son: Fuck off, Keener.

Son Prime: ;P

Dad's Favorite: Hey Peter quick question tho?

Spider-Son: Quick answer.

Dad's Favorite: If you hate Rogers why don't you just not talk to him? Why do you act all polite to his face? Just tell him to fuck off and leave you alone?

Spider-Son: I wish it was that easy.

I mean

It could be

But it isn't.

I have to be polite because we're on the same team.

We're supposed to work together.

I started off kinda rude to him, but Mr. Stark fussed at me.

Apparently what we're doing is bigger than petty squabbles.

Son Prime: uhhh ths is def mr thn a petty squabble tho? mr t wtf

Dad's Favorite: What are you even saying to me right now?? Is dad not mad?

Spider-Son: NoPE.

He just goes along with whatever He says.

Right now Mr. Stark is flying the jet.

Even though it has autopilot.

So I'm left alone back here with Him.

The only other person we brought was Ant-Man and he's asleep so it's just the two of us making conversation.

I hate it.

I'm dying.

Also

I think he doesn't like me looking at my phone so much.

DEAL WITH IT OLD MAN

Son Prime: u rly do snd lik ur bout 2 die. rip n pieces pete

Dad's Favorite: I'm SO glad Tony hasn't cleared me for missions yet.

Spider-Son: I wish you were.

I need someone to hang out with on these.

Speaking of which.

I'm gonna go ask dad if he'll try to teach me to fly again.

Last time…

Did Not Go Well

Also kinda wanna make Him sick again.

It was funny last time.

If he says no the at least I'll have some time alone.

Anyway I'm out.

Talk to you after we kicked ass!

Dad's Favorite: Take a better selfie this time. Lighting was garbage in the last one.

Son Prime: brng me a robos arm

If you didn't need Harley's nonsense translated, I'm impressed. If you did, here you go. He's speaking leet for anyone interested.

|-|4 ! |=!6(_)|23|) !7 0(_)7 ~ Ha I figured it out

|\|0 !7$ |_337 ~ No it's leet

|\/|4|{3 |\/|3 ~ Make me

|3!7(|-| ~ Bitch

#fic #iron dad #iron man #tony stark #spider son #spiderman #peter parker #iron dad and spider son #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #our stuff #bee writes #tony stark's daycare program for gifted children

[arrowheadproductions]

Glad you're back and super excited you're extending your repertoire (if that's what you want to call it) to other fandoms aside from Arrow. I love your writing and I'm actually a huge PJO fan so I was soooo happy to see you're into it too. Can you possibly do a fic of Percy being on the swim team? You can include whatever ships you want (:

Yes! I love Percy Jackson and have for pretty much the past 10 years since I got into reading the books in middle school. It’s always held a soft spot in my heart as one of my favorite universes and I’m always open to writing about it. Anyway, without further adieu, here’s this little beauty (slightly suggestive themes, but nothing smutty/explicit)

Speedos- Rated T

Percy Jackson never ever saw himself as someone that would be considered a jock, but that all changed when he got to college.

I never believed I would ever, in my life, be at the top of the food chain in school. Sure, I’ve beaten Titans, Gods, and saved the world a few times, but I still never expected this luck would translate into my “real” life in the mortal world. 

This all changed when I got to college in California. I managed to squeak into UCSF after being on the waiting list forever while my girlfriend got a full ride to Berkeley. I’m still not sure how I got into school at all let alone a school that’s 45 minutes away from Annabeth. In case my life decides to resume its regularly scheduled dose of trouble, we’re both pretty close to Camp Jupiter and I have my car on campus. 

But anyway, my heart leapt in my chest the way it does when I’m hungry and finally getting dinner when I realized that California was stereotypically full of swimmers. And my school had a pretty good swim team that made you popular. The popularity thing isn’t a big deal for me, since I know who my friends are and don’t really need too many people in my life that I have to lie to or anything, but it was nice not being treated like gum on the bottom of people’s shoes.

Of course I made the team. I can breathe underwater. Do you know how much of an advantage that gives me? Before you accuse me of being cocky or conceited, just remember that I have been given one real gift in this world and this is it. 

I do take a breath for show every lap, which is still super impressive to the mortal eye, but also let’s them know them I’m not a robot or anything. 

That wasn’t to say there weren’t some steep competition. Some of these swimmers made me question if whether or not my father broke his pact more than once in recent years. They’re all super skilled and clearly have put in the work since they were little. So, I actually need to try if I want to earn my place. 

Everyone is pretty cool with me, though. They’ve all tried to ask who my trainer is and my records (that I don’t have), and very few are really buying that I’m just a normal dude that loves to swim. They’ve stopped pestering me though.

Oh Gods, there is one downside to swim team and that’s the actual suit. It squishes everything (and I do mean everything) all together to be on full and compact show for everyone to see. It leaves very little to the imagination and resembled really ugly panties. 

I made a pretty big mistake of mentioning this to Annabeth one Friday night she was staying over in my dorm. My roommate actually ended up being a Gorgon, who I had to smite during orientation (boo!). So, I got my own room (yay!). 

“It can’t be that bad.” She called from outside the bathroom, though I could hear trying to stifle her amusement.

“I’m not coming out.”

“C’mon, Seaweed Brain. I’m going to have to see you in it tomorrow at the meet anyway and that’ll be in public.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” I grumbled. 

Everyone is coming to my first meet tomorrow: Annabeth, Mom, Paul, Grover, Hazel, Piper, Leo, Jason, Frank, Nico, Tyson, and even Chiron. My old Latin teacher is about to see me in in tight, glorified tidy whities and a swim cap. 

“You’re never going to want to see me, let alone touch me, again after you see me in this thing.”

“I find that very hard to believe.” She said dryly. “I’ve seen you in a toga, remember?”

It took about 30 more minutes to convince me to come out and honestly, my growling stomach had a lot to do in the efforts. She played to my weaknesses and I was finally coaxed to exit the bathroom and likely embarrass myself in front of my girlfriend.

When the door flew open, she did the decent thing and looked at my face first, which I appreciated, but my face was likely the color of a firetruck, which made her eyes wander downwards. When she caught sight of the navy atrocity that left very little to the imagination, her eyes went wide like silver moons and a deep blush flushed to her cheeks and neck. 

She shifted awkwardly as she choked down a laugh. “That’s not… so bad.”

I felt like I was on fire and couldn’t meet her gaze. “You better just be laughing at the swimsuit.”

This time, her eyebrows shot to her hairline before she threw her head back and actually laughed. 

I immediately turned on my heels, determined to swim in a full wetsuit tomorrow. I even considered wearing one under all of my clothes until Annabeth used her quick reflexes to grab my hand before I could go.

“I’m not laughing at you.”

“You could have fooled me.”

She pulled me close so our chests were pressed against each other. I could feel my skin getting hot for a whole different reason. She stopped laughing, but her eyes still sparkled with merriment. 

“It’s a bad suit, but everyone looks funny in them.”

I couldn’t find it in me to be annoyed with her while she was very pressed against me and her hands stroked over my shoulders approvingly. She cupped my face and brought my head down in a slow kiss.

“It makes your butt look good though.” She said in between the kisses she layered down my jaw. I stood paralyzed like a big dumb dope, because I’m so gone for her.

“Everyone’s going to laugh at me.” Though this was becoming less of a worry or fear as she worked her way down my neck.

“Probably.” 

“You’re full of encouraging words.”

She chuckled against my skin and I swear all of the blood left my head.

“In my defense, I’m trying to stop talking.”

I quirked an eyebrow at her in disbelief. I was still adjusting to this aspect of our relationship, which was still relatively new to us. In baseball terms, our senior year of high school brought us around the bases whenever we were alone together for too long, lingering quite a bit at second and third. This summer at camp had officially taken us to home plate. It still amazed me every time that she liked me this way.

“Really? But it’s a hideous suit.”

“Yeah.” She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around my neck. “You should take it off.”

And that was how I’d come to terms with the worst part of swimming. Everyone did laugh at me. A lot. But, I rewarded them all with a “spontaneous splash” when I dove into the water. Everyone that didn’t already know was wondering how I managed to do that with a regular dive. 

“He did that on purpose.” Grumbled Jason. 

“Why wouldn’t he? I’d be embarrassed to wear that too.” Frank said emphatically.

“It’s not that bad.” Annabeth tried.

“Oh yeah?” Leo asked. “What’s that on your neck?”

I could feel her glare from across the gym and tried my best not to laugh. 

I got over the judgment when I took first in my 500 IM. I swear I’ve never heard my mom cheer so loud in her life. Then again, I never gave her much reason to growing up since I sucked at all other sports and never exactly made scholastic decathlons. Grover accidentally bleated a few times, but the others were kind enough to try and cover it with whistles and whoops. 

“Yeah Percy!” Piper cheered as they all stood to their feet.

“Leave it to the son of the sea God to win a swimming race.” Jason smirked. 

“I think you’re just jealous that Quidditch isn’t a thing so you don’t get an advantage.” Teased Nico.

“Quidditch actually is a thing.” Annabeth said. “You just don’t fly.”

Hazel struggled to see. “Frank, I told you not to sit in front of me!”

“Sorry…” He said awkwardly.

“Does he get a medal?” Leo asked.

“Do you think he’ll let me eat the medal?” Grover tried.

“No way!” Sally nudged him. “I’m hanging that up in my house forever.”

I grinned as I reached over the lanes to shake hands with the other swimmers beside me. I ripped off my cap and shook my shaggy black hair. I was getting used to actually being wet unlike when I went swimming at camp or on adventures.

I slipped on a pair of trunks over my speedo like most of the other guys do (except some who are strangely proud) before making my way over to the stands. Grover clapped my back and Annabeth leaned over the rails to kiss me before complaining that I tasted like chlorine. My mom ruffled my hair while Paul winked at me in pride.

My teammates were excited too and lifted me on their shoulders since we won the meet. They dumped me in the water, of course, but that was hardly a punishment.

I loved college.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo #ap's fics #my fics #request #swimteam percy #i want to continue this idea tbh

[notanotherlovepage]

LiS fanfic

Hey guys! So, long story short, i did a fanfiction inspired on this post. Hope you guys like it!

MAXINE - 12 YEARS OLD

Today was particularly a sunny, beautiful day. Ninety degrees outside, midst August and every color seemed to be intensified. The leaves on the trees were greener, the sky was bluer and the butterflies shined with their brightest colors.

I resented my mom for having me put a long-sleeved shirt on, and i envied Chloe for her obviously lighter -and prettier- one. Besides, it was embarassing having two big spots of sweat covering my armpits. But i didn’t care. Not if it was my best friend in the whole world next to me. She wouldn’t judge me.

-Come on, Max! Hurry!- I heard Chloe shout. She was some solid 15 feets ahead of me. We were heading towards the big tree. That’s where we hid our time capsule. It was a centric, giant tree placed in the Arcadia Bay forest. It was our place. The place we told eachother every secret, gossip and deepest confessions. And now we were going to dig out the capsule we hid 5 years ago.

We were actually cheating; we promised ourselves we would only see it 10 years after the day we buried it. That would be at age eighteen. When we were eight years old, we decided to make our friendship last forever in the coolest way. We hid a bunch of letters, drawings and others stuff for us to see later on. That way we were forced to come back from wherever we were and join pirate forces to dig out the most awesome treasure ever. But we couldn’t help it. Neither of us remembered what we put in there and we were dying to know.

-This is so wrong but feels so right- i said chuckling, already catching up with Chloe.

-I know, right?! - She said, clearly excited, doing that adorable bouncing she does when she’s hyped up. Chloe was particularly... pretty today. Her long, blond hair was shinning, as if it belonged to some shampoo comercial, waving synchronized with the wind. She always grew these funny freckles all over her nose and cheeks every summer, which made her look like a model, and her blue eyes shined amazingly bright, reflecting the sunlight. Sometimes i didn’t know if it was jealousy i felt every time i looked at her, or just pure... admiration. Whatever it was, it always felt just right.

-Okay, we’re here,- Chloe said- let’s just cut the crap and see whatever in the world is there.

I realized i was stupidly nervous by the whole thing. My heart was rapidly pounding in my chest and my hands were sweating, but i didn’t care. It was the good kind of nervous.

-I’m actually really nervous- Chloe said, as if she had read my mind.

-Dude, me too- I responded, with an akward laugh.

-Let’s do this- Chloe picked the shovels next to her and handed me one- Now, you lazy ass, show me watcha’ got.

MAXINE - 18 YEARS OLD

-Okay...-I breathed out- let’s do this.

I was sitting in my dorm bed at Blackwell, looking at a photo I had forgotten it even existed. Actually, i had deleted the entire day in which the photo was taken from my brain, although it was kind of a “big deal”. It was the day Chloe and i buried the time-capsule.

It had been two weeks since Chloe’s funeral. Jefferson was in jail, Nathan was in a psychiatric hospital, with a restriction order to keep his asshole father away from him, and Kate and Victoria were alive. Everything had fallen into place. Every piece of this life puzzle was starting to click again.

Except for me.

This wasn’t like any cringy, sugarcoated movie i had ever watched before. This wasn’t some tragic novel about life being a bitch. This wasn’t like anything i had ever heard or seen. This was so much worse.

The first three days i was in denial. I never actually stopped to think Chloe’s death was forever. I was like a zombie, or in autopilot mode. I even smiled an laughed. I just couldn’t accept it.

But one day i went to the Two Whales, and found myself having my pancakes all alone, and i didn’t see Joyce there because from what David told me, she couldn’t get out of bed, and there was barely any client there because the fucking place smelled like tragedy and pain. And then it hit me.

Chloe is dead.

I never knew it was possible to feel this kind of pain and not die. Or have a heart attack. Or just for nothing to occur. I just felt this horrible sensation, all the goddamn time, but nothing else seemed to happen. There was just pain and the only thing i had left to do was feel it.

I mean, pain is supposed to be some kind of body mechanism to warn you about danger. If you accidentally fall from a tree and break your arm or cut your leg your body makes you feel pain, so you know something is not right with you and you should take care of it. But suddenly your best friend and soulmate in the fucking world dies and you feel this unbearable pain in your chest, way worse than a fucking broken arm, and you would give anything for that so called god everyone assures it exists to just break every single bone in your body if it meant not feeling this, and everything feels so wrong and you feel like you are going to die all the time but the worst part is you don’t, and you are expected to just get over it? How can this kind of pain not mean im in danger? That i’m not going to just stop breathing anytime? How can physical pain mean so much while emotional pain just means you suffered a stupid trauma that you can get through? That nothing is actually wrong? That the love of your life died but you will be ‘just fine’? How can people say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?

Because to me, what doesn’t kill you makes you wish it fucking did.

Sitting at the dinner, thinking all of this in one goddamn second, as if a brainstorm had just hit my head, made me realize; i was not living in a world without Chloe. Either both of us lived here... or both of us went up there.

I suddenly understood Kate so much more once i started planning it. See, if you don’t live it, you don’t get it, it’s as simple as that. You just can’t understand what depression is like if you never went through it, no matter how hard you try. That’s what happened to me on the rooftop with Kate. As much as i tried, i was just not able to understand how could people consider taking their own lives. Isn’t there always hope? Always someone who loves you? Always something to live for?

Thing is, sometimes, there’s not.

It just hit me like a train. I didn’t even care. I couldn’t. It would destroy my parents, Kate, Warren, even Joyce, but i didn’t have the energy to give a fuck. I was so hopeless. Everything was so pointless. I really don’t know if it was depression i was suffering, but it sure as hell felt like it.

I had decided to binge on the pills the doctor gave me for Post Traumatic Disorder. I heard they were pretty strong, so i was pretty confident they would do the job. But then i saw the box Joyce gave me at the Two Whales, resting in the corner of my room; it was Chloe’s box, with every single memory she had ever owned. Pictures, letters, postcards, everything. I had put it away to rot; i just couldn’t look at it without falling into pieces. But at that moment, i figured i might as well see what was in there; i wanted my last memories to relive those of the love of my life.

I don’t remember crying like i did then in a long time, if not ever. I was pretty sure i was starting to dehidratate, and at some point, i even thought i was going to faint. There was that awful drawing i sent her when she had chickenpox. There was a silly love letter i remember her neighbour wrote her when we were ten years old. Chloe never liked him and after five letters like that with no response, he finally got the hint and never spoke to her again. But what shattered my heart the most was this pink sea shell. I found it on a beach in Playa del Carmen; my parents and i took a cruise for two weeks and i promised Chloe i would collect one for each day we spent apart, so she knew i wouldn’t  forget her. All of them eventually broke into pieces except for this one. I painted it with a cheap pink nail polish my mom used to own and gave it to her. We were seven years old. I never knew she would keep it to this day, it seemed so redundant and useless to me, but so meaningful to her...

I was not sure how much more i could take, but then, i found the photo. The time-capsule photo.

The memories suddenly hit me as a punch in the face. It was as if some kind of hipnosis suddenly unleashed from that picture to free the memories that had been so long repressed. I remember that our parents took us on a silly journey through the Arcadia Bay forest. It lasted 5 days. My mom absolutely hated camping in the ‘wilds’, but my father and William did a great job calming her down. One week earlier, Chloe and i decided to secretly bury a time capsule in which we hid some stuff to open up in ten years, which would ironically be this year, at age eighteen. But we opened it five years before, us being twelve, because we couldn’t help ourselves. We opened it two months before William passed away.. It was the last good moment we had until everything started falling apart for Chloe.

My parents took a picture Chloe and me in our pirate costumes, right before we went for the giant tree and hid the capsule. I don’t really remember what we hid in it, but it was probably silly. I’m actually glad we opened it up earlier. Today, it would only be some silly kid stuff.

I looked at the picture with a nostalgic, genuine smile, without realising i was crying again until some droplets hit the picture. But suddenly, one droplet fell on the wrong -or right?- place. And as i looked, i stood in shock.

-What... the hell?- i exclaimed. I frowned my eyebrows and rubbed my eyes to get a better view of the picture, and then, i saw it. It felt as if i was suddenly stang by a paralising bug. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe what i was seeing. It just felt as if the nightmare would never stop. I started sobbing and yelling. I was pulling my hair without realizing it. I didn’t give a crap of all the fuzz i was making. In the picture, right behind us, was a translucent doe, staring right at the camera, with a tiny beautiful blue butterfly resting in his snout.

After some minutes of pure desesperation and chaos, i decided to calm myself down. I was getting nowhere being like this. Fucking hell, a few minutes ago i was all ready to kill myself. What was going on with me? Was i hallucinating? Had i finally lost it? Was i officially crazy?

-Okay, Max. Calm the fuck down- I said out loud- Let’s think, what the hell does this mean?

As if my voice was like a ridiculous lullaby, i did calm down. I took a few breaths, and started to think.

First of all, if anything, this could be good news. If shit like this keeps happening after Chloe died, could this mean the universe was still not content with the outcome of things? Could this mean that life, or god, or what-fucking-ever did not want Chloe to die? Was Chloe not supposed to die?

A feeling i had not felt in two weeks, but seemed like forever, started growing in my chest. I was feeling hope. Hope that my best friend could maybe, just maybe, be brought back. Hope that i would be able to kiss my lover again. Hope that maybe, life was not as miserable as it seemed.

Calm down, Maxine. I thought to myself. This is still not clicking.

I spent some good hour going through all of it. Thinking of everything i could have missed. Every detail, every second i spent with Chloe. Every goddamn tragedy of that unholy week. What was i taking for granted? What was the universe trying to tell me? Was it even trying to tell me something? Was life just... weird?

And then it clicked. The puzzle clicked. That fucking piece found it’s place in all of this drama and everything suddenly made sense. All this time, i made everything revolve around me. It seems fair, as i am the one with a crazy fucking superpower. But what if it’s... not? What if it’s not about me? I may be one in a million, being able to control the fucking time, but the universe is sure as hell not only about my life, so... what if i am missing a detail because im not supposed to know that detail? What if it’s not my life i should change, but someone elses? What if i have been searching for the answer in that horrible week when in fact it came from... before?

What if it’s not Chloe that’s supposed to die? What if... it’s Rachel that’s supposed to live?

I realised i had been starring at the mirror with the picture in my hands all of the time i spent thinking. I almost saw the switch in my eyes as i finally made the decision; i would try to make things right one last time. After all, i had nothing left to lose.

I focused on the picture, sitting in my bed, as all the familiar but still weird-as-hell feelings started to hit once again; the pounding in my head, the blurr in my eyes, the sensation of passing out, the world menacing to tremble... and just like that, i was back in the forest.

MAXINE - 8 YEARS OLD

The first thing i did was to look for the doe and the butterfly. As i expected, they were not there. Being 12 years old at Chloe’s house, back when i tried to save William, was weird enough, but being eight felt so... wrong. I was an eighteen years old in the body of a little girl. I could actually feel the physical change; my hands and feet felt tinier, my skin felt softer, and it seemed to me that i was on my knees when i looked around, when in fact, i was just shorter.

-Max, sweetie, are you okay?- my mom asked. As there was no response, she continued- Come here baby, you look pale. Do you want some chocolate?- She turned to look at my father- What did i tell you, Ryan? This was such a bad idea, we shouldn’t have come.

-Wait, mommy! I’m okay!- I cringed at how high-pitched my voice was, but managed to fake a smile.

-Are you sure, baby?- Dad asked.

-Of course she’s okay! She’s a pirate! Right, Max?- I heard a little girl’s voice say. I knew exactly who that voice was from, but i needed to really see it. I just couldn’t start to even comprehend how lucky i was. To have the ability to see what i shouldn’t be seeing. To defy the universe, just like that. To be able to appreciate the existence of the love of my life as many times as i wanted to. To love her and be able to tell her again and again, without the fear of time running out. Because time meant nothing to me. I owned time, and it made me feel incredibly alive. It was so wrong but so right. And when i finally turned around to see her, i realized life was just fucking incredible for creating such amazing and lovable beings like her, no matter how temporary they were.

-Chloe!- I shouted, and ran to her embrace- You are my best friend, did you know that?

-Of course i do! We will rule the world with our swords and patches, right, Dad?!

-Sure thing darling. I believe in you two- William said with a soothing voice. Only then did i realize how much i had missed him. But i needed to calm my nostalgic self down. I had to start acting like an eight year old, and they were never really that great at showing mature feelings. Besides, it would be just plain weird to hug William out of the blue. Sadly, no one there but me knew how little time had he left- Okay girls, ready for the walk?- He said with a playful smile, letting go a tiny wink from his left eye. I understood this was the sign Chloe, William and i had agreed on to go bury the time-capsule- Everything ready?

-Yes dad!- Chloe shouted- Let me just get my backpack- She said, while turning back to head the tents.

-Wait! i need to go get something too- I jumped. I saw Chloe turning around to face us once again, this time with a frown. I guess we agreed at some time that she would get the capsule while i kept the adults busy- It will be just a second.

-Okay...- Chloe replied.

-What would you two be up to...- Joyce whispered suspiciously, with a grin on her face, shaking her head left and right. I followed Chloe to the tent and entered with her.

-Please tell me you brought some paper and crayons- I said nervously. My heart started to accelerate as my brain finally focused on my plan.

-Yeah... i think so. Why?- she asked, half curious, half worried.

-I just forgot something i wanted to draw.

-Okay, let me check- Chloe said, revolving her backpack, and then taking out what i had requested- You are being kind of weird.

-Don’t worry, it’s just a second- I replied- No peeking!- I said, smiling at her while hiding my paper so she couldn’t see. This time, the smile was genuine. I could never fake-smile that adorable face of hers, even if i tried.

And then she was the one to smile. A wide, playful smile, covered childishly by her tiny hands, followed by a girly, amazingly cute chuckle.

Suddenly, i was just overwhelmed by this relaxing but exciting feeling, as i started drawing my message to the future Max, in the hope that this time, she would remember it and be able to fix things from the very start. I just kind of knew that this time, things would turn out to be alright.

MAXINE - 12 YEARS OLD

-Oh my god, this is so cringy, i really dont know how much more i can take- I said, tears of laughter falling from my eyes.

-Dude, i know, i think i’m gonna throw up anytime now- Chloe responded, with her cheeks filled with an intense red, grabbing her tummy and gasping for air, trying to regain control of herself.

We had spent hours now checking everything out. We found two chocolate cookies that smelled awful, two drawings that looked exactly the same -probably both of us agreed to draw the same scenario- of Chloe and me dressed as pirates while navigating the sea, two coins, two bracelets, a pink one and a blue one, and so on. We also found letters we wrote to eachother, barely legibles, about how much we loved eachother and that how we would be the best pirate friends in the whole world, which made us gag on the outside but smile warmly on the inside. There were only two more letters to read, each one with our names respectively signed on them. We understood they were letters we wrote to our future selves. I picked them both and read them to myself.

-How about mine? What did I write?- Chloe asked, excited.

-You were really funny- I responded with a tiny chuckle. It said, written with a blue crayon; ‘Dear Chloe, if you are not dressed up as a pirate right now, and Max is right next to you, tell her to punch you. Love, Chloe’. It was just so incredible to know Chloe was, is and would always be this funny and sassy person. But the best of all, was knowing that this person would always be my best friend in the world, and i was gonna be hers. I handed it to her, and when she read it, she started to laugh like crazy. Joining her laugh, i picked my letter, and gave it a quick, uninterested look. But that was all it took to send a chill down my spine- Mine was so serious...- I let out, failing to keep the thought to myself.

-Well, yeah, that’s you- Chloe reasoned, when i lended it to her and she saw it, not giving it its spooky credit- Serious and genuine- She smiled.

-Yeah, i guess- I said, but was left more nervous and anxious than i was willing to admit.

-Okay, mom is totally gonna kill us- Chloe suddenly exclaimed, zonning me out from my thoughts- We told her we would be there by five! Its half past six! Shit, let’s hurry- She said, getting up to her feet and starting to pack our things.

I followed her lead and helped myself up with my hands on the ground, to start helping her pick up the stuff. Once we were finished, i decided to take one last look at my letter, in the hope that it wouldn’t seem so creepy once i re-checked it.

It was the drawing of a girl, apparently older than us, with long, blond hair, seemingly waving with a fictional wind. At first it thought it was just a drawing of Chloe, but her eyes were green, and she was not dressed like Chloe at all. She had a red flannel, a pair of teared up jeans and some black boots. Besides, Chloe never got her ears pierced, and this girl had a blue feather hanging from one of hers. I found it strange how my eight year old self could draw such a realistic girl. I was never that good with crayons.

But what made me skip a heart beat was what it said below the girl. It was a simple sentence in capitals but had enough impact on me. It said ‘SAVE HER’.

#lis #lis bts #lis 2 #lis before the storm #life is strange 2 #life is strange #life is strange bts #life is strange before the storm #chloe price #max caulfield #amberprice #pricefield #rachel amber #nathan prescott #Kate marsh #victoria chase #Mark Jefferson #frank bowers #warren graham

[survivenovascotia]

Episode 3 - AHHHHH -Heather

I hate Tiktok dances. Im not in shape enough for this but like 150 pts is 150 pts

So I come back from Oak Island and Kevin has been voted out. Excuse me but what? Kevin of all people. The dude was great in challenges and a loyal person. But apparently Sunshine and John said he’d be too controlling at a swap and possibly had an idol? What kind of lame ass excuse is that at the second tribal council? Darcy, Mac and Kyle were all in favour of keeping Kevin over Jessie. Which means that Sunshine, John and Dan have some kind of alliance going on there. I don’t imagine Jessie is really aligned with them and probably only worked with them to keep herself safe. I don’t blame her at all. However, we’re probably going to lose this next challenge (partly because of me throwing it oops) which isn’t the worst thing in the world. If Darcy, Mac, Kyle and myself all stick together, and none of us go to Oak Island (Kyle and myself can’t), the four of us would have the majority to vote out any of the other three who don’t go to Oak Island. And as of right now, I think John and Sunshine still feel like I’m on their side. So I’m a little bit in the middle right now. I’ve got my fingers crossed everyone else on the tribe can pull together a win but a whole ass person not submitting for this is definitely a huge disadvantage for us.

In my opinion, one of the most important things to be aware of while playing survivor is your threat level. You can't exactly be too big of a threat or else you'll get voted out, and you also can't be too little of a threat or else you'll just get taken to the end, or be seen as an easy vote. This is why the meat shield strategy is one of the best ways to play survivor; be a threat, but never the biggest threat. However, I'm not playing the meat shield strategy right now, because quite frankly I don't feel like I need to. I'm so under everyone's radar, that I don't see myself going home anytime soon. Also, since this is my first time playing, it's hard to get a read on who really is a meat shield and who isn't. However, I'll be sure to make big moves; just not too many to get targeted over anyone else.

IDK WHO IS SITTING OUT BUT SOMEONE WHO THOUGHT THEY WERE SITTING OUT AND I THOUGHT WAS SITTING OUT IS IN. IDK IF THERE IS TIME BUT I AM THE BIG ANXIOUS ABOUT THIS CHALLENGE NOW.

AHHHHH

Kevin going home was upsetting for me. Sunshine, Jessie, Dan and John are dead to me. I need to convince Keegan to join myself, Darcy and Kyle if any of us are gonna get anywhere in this game. I didn’t search for the idol yesterday because I was feeling sick and was upset with Kev leaving. I just don’t wanna go back to tribal. Otherwise I’ll be saying a few words at tribal.

I am very nervous for this challenge. Evan hasn't done anything so far , but if we lose, we need him as a number so we are stuck in a sticky situation. Livingston a while ago thought you only had to do a select few and I am worried because I don't want to lose  a challenge I worked so hard for just because people won't try. I hate having a for the tribe mentality because like I don't want to seem like a challenge threat but its more we have to work together and get as many points as humanly possible.

ok so this tribe turned into a literal mess. So i said i wanted to sit out of the challenge because i didn't have a lot of the items, and then i got ignored by like two members of the tribe which meant I was doing the challenge and evan and coco were sitting out. Honestly, I'm livid that I was ignored by people because that I take personally. I could care less about the challenge, even though I know i'd get like 6 points because i have papers and stuff to do. Luckily, we figured things out and evan is doing the challenge. If we win, awesome, but if we lose, I definitely have a couple people on my list. Luckily though, I'm in a 5 person alliance with Heather, Austin, Evan and Coco. That makes me feel safe at this specific time in the game, but I can't help but wonder who we will all vote for if we go to tribal tomorrow.

The dynamics right now are absolutely hilarious let’s breakdown: Heather: is currently having a panic attack bc this challenge is a mess & literally no one knows what they’re doing Eric: says ‘I’m not doing this’ then dips for like 20 hours. Evan & Coco are confirmed as sit outs, Eric gets mad at the hosts for some reason, & then forces himself to sit out. Evan: was confirmed as a sit out, dips for 20 hours because he thinks he’s not doing anything, comes back like ‘wait what’ & is hella salty Livingston: didn’t know that each person had to individually post everything Glo: is a angel her videos are killing me she is the comedic relief during these dark times. She also suggests we have one person go TWICE & have 3 sit outs LMAO Me: fucking cackling anytime anyone speaks in a passive aggressive tone We were supposed to be the tribe that loves each other now look what happened  

It honestly feels horrible not submitting a damn thing for a challenge because I am certain we’re going to lose because of it. But I don’t want to try my best in the challenge and have us still lose and then lose my vote at tribal. It’s just not worth it. On the plus side, even if we do lose the challenge Darcy, Kyle and Mac are all pretty down to blindside Sunshine for being snakey. So unless they change their mind right away and decide to axe me I should be in a good position.

My legs are sore and I made TIKTOKS to win by over 1000. Im..... I was gonna set a plan to get Livingston out but I mean I guess

We lost the challenge, surprise surprise. By a heck of a lot so I’m hella glad I accept the Oak Island challenge and didn’t submit for the challenge. It wouldn’t have even mattered. So we lose the challenge and shout our ho hums in tribe chat before it dies and everyone disperses to their quiet hidey holes to scheme against each other. And lo and behold Dan has immediately thrown my name out for not submitting in the challenge. Because I alone was the reason we lost. Whatever. Darcy is going under cover with Sunshine and Dan right now, Kyle is trying to act like a free agent and I’m sitting here twiddling my thumbs wondering why the minority of Sunshine, Dan and John aren’t approaching the one person who wasn’t at all involved in the Kevin tribal. They honestly aren’t that smart if they’re straight up ignoring the one impartial person. Whatever. I wouldn’t actually vote with them since they voted out Kevin who was fantastic and useful. (#RevengeForKevin). Also, since I completed my Oak Island challenge I now have an extra vote I can use up until the final 5! I shouldn’t have to use it this tribal, thankfully. It will probably come in handy during a swap!

Is this what its like to be on a successful tribe? So unused to this. This gives me time to think and bond more. I’m thinking my first instinct to be threatened by glo and aim for her was wrong, it might make more sense to get her onside and use her both as a shield but also as a scapegoat for targetting others? We’ll see. Still good with Heather and Austin as a core three, and Livingston and Chips would be a good pair to link with if needed. Hopefully if swap comes I’m with some of them.

I’m crying at the fact we killed at. Like all of us were actually scared of losing & arguing & causing chaos & it was all for nothing & it’s AMAZING Also glo is scaring me she’s getting clingy she’s like “you wouldn’t miss me if we swapped” and I’m like what she’s like “tehe I was JOKING silly 😜” and like. I’m sorry what. Maybe I’m overreacting but that type of language makes me v uncomfy. Ion know that really off put me I’m gonna take a break from socializing. I’m pretty sensitive to behavior like that so I feel like it’s healthy to distance

Birch and Tawni really sat there being like, yall won stop trying. I thought we were up for competition. Oh Well. I had fun!! We love scavenger hunts

Me, Kyle, Keegan and Darcy are a good 4. With Jessie going to Oak Island that leaves Sunshine, Dan and John vulnerable. Keegan shared to me that he won an Extra Vote at Oak Island, which he hasn’t shared with Kyle and (maybe) not Darcy. I’m worried because I feel like I’m the 4th and not the 1st. Kyle admitted Kevin was his closest ally. My idol hunt is going alright. Definitely progress made.

To Kyle, if you’re ever reading these one day. I take back everything I said. You are awesome.

Fuck losing every challenge so far that’s all I have to say

I’m not sure if I’m feeling sick because I’m just sick or it’s the stress from this vote. I don’t want to be out this early. I can’t be out this early. If Kyle, Darcy and Mac can be trusted then I’m definitely safe and John is going home. I think I can trust them. I hope I can trust them. Why are we playing so damn hard so early in this game? Everyone needs to chill out or we’ll end up like Matsing.

Going to tribal I feel safe but nervous about what will happen in the aftermath. My group of 4 are pretty chill and not budging. Bye John.

No Swap, Thank God!! I think im fairly decent at this type of challenge. I won an individual immunity in this challenge once but idk how ill do with a tribe.

Oh my god my alliance is now in control! Yeah boi. Sunshine being HELLA QUIET after John’s boot was spooky but, I mean, he can’t complain since he did the exact same thing last vote. My problem now is not being the 4th member of the alliance. I’m scared that people will see me as riding coattails. I mean controlling the idol hunt is a cute look.

Our tribe was on a roll and had won 2 challenges in a row. I was starting to get busy taking care of my crush, and because of this, I had to sit out. However, apparently two people stated they were sitting out before I did. But the thing is, I never knew that. So I decided to disconnect from skype for the day to be with the one I love. However, I turn on skype the next day, and I'm bombarded with messages telling me to do the challenge. This really overwhelmed me, but then I realized it was an opportunity. 

Glo realized how much of a sticky situation I was in, and she came to my help, and told me she would be with me until I finish it if she needs to. Ultimately I wouldn't have been able to finish the challenge if she hadn't helped me. She also played it up as if I stepped up for the team last second and made an impact. I still can't tell if she did this from the goodness of her heart, or if she did it for strategic reasons. But, I do think it was moreso strategic, because she did mention that after she helped me as much as she did, that we would have to be aligned. So because of that, her actions don't really mean as much to me as it should, and I will take out Glo if it's necessary and beneficial for my game.

[rogue-rook]

some highlights from Story and Song from an all-caught-up-now TAZ listener (spoilers abound)

hot damn yall

i gotta feeling everybody’s coming back for this finale

oh god taako just realized he found his sister’s fucking SKELETAL REMAINS

griffin: “taako and merle, make a dexterity saving throw" justin: “hell yeah, dungeons and dragons is back!” griffin: “we’re back and we’re rolling dice that have 20 sides on them. it’s got 20 sides and 20 numbers, its great”

griffin: “the third figure is a fucking rhinoceros” magnus: “DIBS!”

the fact that angus is an 11 year old child and totally DOWN TO FIGHT just reinforces that i was right to make him my favorite npc

hell yeah we’re back to DND fights! they like rolled for initiative and everything

justin, after talking about taako’s leveling up: “should i talk slower so everybody who’s been complaining about us not playing dnd has time to nut. how’s everyone enjoying this GREAT COMPELLING AUDIO”

griffin: “this hand is gonna attack you, taako, cuz you just set it on fire”

magnus: “i jump on the back of the rhinoceros” griffin: “of COURSE you do”

taako: "hey magnus that was the coolest thing ive ever seen…HANDS DOWN!“ get it cuz they found a giant magical hand…GETIT?!

ango used the umbra staff to cast a fireball way above what ango should be able to do and im like hot damn i love this fucking umbrella

taako: “i snap the umbra staff over my knee” HOLY SHIT YALL!! ITS HAPPENING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LUP LUP LUP LUP ITS LUP ITS LUP ITS MY DAUGHTER SHE’S HERRREEEEEEE

“lup grits her teeth and says ‘I’m going to fucking kill you now’“ MY GIRL!!!!! THATS MY GIRL!!!”

PHANTASMAL AND RESPLENDENT

“YOU’RE DATING THE GRIM REAPER???” I LOVE HER SO GODDAMN MUCH

lup: “why didn’t you let me out sooner, dingus?” taako: “i didn’t remember you existed, goofus” THEY’RE SO ADORABLE

taako: “don’t worry, I’ve got MAGIC POWERS” magnus: “is that supposed to be a big reveal?”

the love between magnus and fisher is one of my favorite bonds of this whole show

everyone banding together to fight the big bad is one of my favorite tropes ever (what’s up pacific rim) so that everyone is doing that here is INCREDIBLE

magnus: “i use my levitation magic” griffin: “oh im sorry, did you say you take the elevator? the skype call broke up for a second there”

griffin: “magnus, something falls from the sky” magnus: “i catch it” griffin: “no you don’t, it’s pretty big”

i’m so glad that griffin is committed to calling killian, carey fangbattle, and noelle “Team Sweet Flipz”

lup: “here’s my idea, are you ready for it? it’s a banger”

griffin: “you remember that, taako, because your memory’s so good!”

griffin: “its upsy, your lifting friend” wait what. im sorry, what?????????

oh its lucas okay, cool. that moment got wayyyy too much Gravitas for it just to be the worst brand mascot EVER

YOOOOOO istus’s gift to taako, the item he could retrieve when he needed it most, has RETURNED TO THE STORY AND IM SO EXCITED BY THAT!!!

wait wait. is this RANDO the “man wreathed in flame”? THIS LITERAL RANDO??? THIS LITERAL RANDOM CHARACTER GRIFFIN HAS JUST INTRODUCED TO US NOW????

griffin has really genuinely lost track of the correct timeline of the events of this story and im like shit my dude, you and me both. ive only got most of it down

this john motherfucker is like almost tugging at my heartstrings but also im the embodiment of “cool motive still murder” bc im pretty sure this dude’s to blame

clint doesn’t remember jack shit about merle’s kids right now and in context, its like merle doesn’t even know how old his kids are. that’s BAD

griffin: “although this bear is in like Furious Nonsensical Monster Mode, you see, just faintly, you see it retract its claws as if to say ‘alright motherfucker, lets wrestle’”

magnus: “they’re not strong enough, I have to be” damn, talk about a Magnus Burnsides Thesis Statement

the fact that magnus is refusing to kill this monster mode Power Bear even though it’s being controlled by an eldritch nightmare is like. proof that magnus has a goddamn heart of gold. what a hero

magnus finds it in him to ask for help and avi comes crashing through the walls like “sup dude, need some help from Captain Handsome Hero?”

“no dogs on the moon!” AAHHHHHH IM SO EXCITED ABOUT THAT

taako: “i don’t know what tacos are. I’ve gotten hints, if you wanna call them taco prophecies. that’s a crazy thing to say out loud, but I just said it, so here we are, I guess, I’m talking at you through a frying pan, try to keep up Joaquin”

taako: “I’ll take one taco, extra destiny”

taako: “yeah, like I’m going to let myself be seen being taught how to cook anything, nice try”

taako: “so, a toast” joaquin: “no, its a taco….just a little food joke” taako: “very little”

istus: “huh, didn’t see that one coming” griffin: “across two universes, two food trucks explode” damn griffin

joaquin: “EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE OKAY! I’VE GOT MAGIC POWERS!” DAMN! THAT’S A GOOD FUNNY PARALLEL

griffin: “kneeling at the center of town, is kravitz” OH GOOD! NOW WE’RE COOKING! NOW WE’VE GOT THE GOOD SHIT GOING!

i just gotta mention here that I love eldritch nightmares and cthulu-esque monsters, so this story’s eldritch nightmare that consumes everything in its path contrasted with a slowly-more-corrupted human avatar is MY JAM

merle: “i cast zone of truth!” travis: “TO WHAT END??”

griffin: “it is the most powerful holy spell you have ever cast” THAT’S A GOOD FINALE CALLBACK!!!!

HURLEY! AND SLOANE!!! THEY’RE BACK AND THEY’RE DRYADS!!!!!! THAT’S SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!! GRIFFIN!!! YOU BROUGHT THEM BACK!!!!!!!!!

griffin: “she turns back to lucas’s lab and she says ‘hero time’” NOELLE!!!!! NOELLE THAT WAS SO GOOD!!!

THIS TAAKO/KRAVITZ KISS IS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!! THEY’RE KISSING!!!! I LOVE THEM!!

kravitz: “i wanna warm up my face so it’s not weird” AWWWWW

THEY’RE SO IN LOVE! I LOVE THEM! THIS EPISODE IS SO GAY

lup: “what’s up ghost rider?” kravitz: “you know we’re going to have to talk about the fact that your sister’s a lich, right?” taako: “yeah…i assumed”

lup: “taako just summoned all the energy in our reality to come help us fight” magnus: “mmhmm. I fought a bear…when I say it like that, it doesn’t sound as good, does it?”

davenport: “lup did you find the starblaster?” lup: “oh i sorta… forgot we were supposed to be doing that”

taako: “we have basically been trolling it for 100 years..[..]..and i don’t know about you, but TAAKO’S GOOD OUT HERE”

lup: “lucretia, dear, I’ve already forgotten about the whole thing. OH! OH! bad choice of words!” lup you adorable asshole

lup: “please don’t die” taako: “i’d say the same but that ship done sailed, hasn’t it?”

MAGNUS GAVE ANGUS HIS KNIFE!!!!! THAT SHIT IS SOO GOOD!!!!!!!

taako: “i walk over to angus and say ‘hey cool knife, you know he’s got a sword that’s on fire, right? he did just give you a KNIFE’”

lup: “hear that, babe? we’re legends”

“there’s magic in a bard’s song” OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!!!!!!!!!!

“YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO FIGHT! AND YOU’RE GOING TO WIN!”

magnus: “this is it? it’s just a guy!” taako: “yeah it’s one guy, shouldn’t be a problem”

clint: “you heal up to 700 hit points!” griffin: “BULLSHIT! WHAT???” clint: “divided evenly” justin: “okay well but you don’t have any 9th level spell slots…” clint: “then I will use Mathias the Living Grimoire!” awesome I’m so glad clint learned how to actually properly play dnd on this LAST EP

griffin: “I will say, you’re on a ship, there’s probably a mast or something for you to swing down from” wait what this is an actual ship??? i was picturing like the entreprise or something

griffin: “we’re playing a little calvinball with the design of the starblaster” oh okay cool yeah its like a spaceship, not a fucking 17th century pirate ship

my dudes you never leave your weapons buried in the dying bodies of your enemies bc if they bounce back, they got your weapon now

griffin: “john is up first” justin: “fuck” clint: “he’s still just john? he’s not Demi-john????” travis: “final john” more cross-mcelroy-product jokes!!!!

the grubby heroes healed by godly love, i bet some people are feeling some Stuff right now

taako: “hey i want everyone to meet a new friend of mine, this is Joaquin” griffin: “OH FUCK! YES YES YES YES!!!”

joaquin: “thanks for the wizard powers, I’ve killed like a hundred of these things!”

griffin: “oh fuck I thought you were going to summon ME!!!”

hot damn clint REMEMBERED his gift from istus and fucking used it!!!!!!!!!

taako used the immovable rod!!!!! im so proud of them for remembering AND using all their items!!!!

taako: “i gotta be with lup” oh that’s so fucking sweet

angus: “hey everybody, johann was right! WE WON!” cool im crying a little bit, no big deal

LUP GOT HER BODY BACK! LUP GOT HER BODY BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

griffin: “how does magnus die?” hey fuck off griffy i don’t want this

magnus being reunited with julia is making me cry significantly now

they got their happy endings, everybody got their happy endings, and I’m so happy

I am SO glad and grateful I got caught up in time for this fucking heartwrenching sweet finale

#story and song #balance arc #the adventure zone #taz spoilers #taz #taz highlights #mine

[bigbrothermonopoly]

EPISODE 2:

HOH: KRISTINE

EVICTED: NICKY (WALKED)

JESS:

Kristine being in power scares me shitless. I know I haven't exactly been the MOST social person in this game and I've been very UTR the last couple of days/ non existent but I always felt like I was good with Kristine. I don't know? I thought we talked a good bit at least in comparison to others.... but then after she won I called her the HBIC and homegirl told me she loved my ass kissing. That HOHITIS is real with this one ladies. I offered up my services as a potential person to work with moving forward and she ignored my offer. She literally swerved me. Straight up IGNORED me and focused on what I said about not being social. So there is a good chance I'm going up and if I don't go up it isn't because Kristine doesn't want it.. it'll probably be because others don't want it. At least I hope? I'm trying NOT to go into crisis mode on the second HOH but... old habits die hard? I think that's the quote? I think if I had to write a "trust list" for this game.. honestly.. I'm feeling really good about Kori. I THINK we could go far together and we'd balance out each other well. Obviously he's a good player and I'm going to need that on my side moving forward. Eve is obviously my #1 right now but it'd be naive on me not to believe that others aren't saying the same about her. I really like Andrew but we don't talk game? But I guess I can improve on that? Those are the 3 people I'm vibing with right now. 

KORI:

Ok so at this point I'm not entirely sure if I made a DR entry earlier or not, I planned on making a video but at this point it'd just get too long. Rehder going unanimously is STILL a meme to me but here we are. Kristine winning HoH was honestly alright for me because I feel like she and I have a reasonably good relationship. Though I'm not sure it could ever be something long term because she's likely working with people I have no desire to work with. (Dem, Chris, Brien, those guys.) Emma and I had a serious talk about long term what we wanna do about Eve since we seem pretty in agreement that the current dynamic is Jess and Mackenzie are Eve's Top 2 Bitches, and we're like probably the Bottom 2 Bitches. Personally I think the best time for Eve to go is like F7ish but obviously we need more time for things to progress to see where we sit. I think longterm the Mandela Monocles are a better alliance for me since I think I could sit next to Austin OR Silence and win. I just can't sit next to Gwen who I really think just has a better personality than me. With Kristine nominating Madison it... isn't really ideal for me, but Madison is also pretty isolated at this point. While we have that Mitten Connection, if she is lacking any connection with others in this game I can't go dragging my feet for her... That being said, I think eliminating Nicky this round, would not be like... the WORST thing ever. It'd just be a question of convincing Gwen that it's a good idea. Though the harder thing would be convincing others that keeping Madison is a good idea. While I like her, I'm not sure it's in my best interest to leave tracks trying to keep her in the game. Obviously it's gonna depend on how Veto goes, if noms stay the same I might push a little for a Nicky boot and see what happens, but if it's not gonna happen I'll just cut my losses. (Though with Nicky doing his thing he seems likely to dig his own grave.)

AUSTIN:

I am feeling very comfortable this week. I’m in the power trap alliance with Chris, Kristine, Dem, and Emma. I’m also in the Mandela Monocles alliance with Gwen, Silence, and Kori. Kristine is currently HoH so I don’t think she will put me on the block. I have suspicions that Emma is working with Eve because when we were playing the HoH competition, Emma refused to take Eve out. I’m just glad that one of my alliances is in power.

KRISTINE:

Love the alliance. So happy I won HOH and got to be in power. The veto comp didn’t go as well as planned tbh. I’m sooo upset that I didn’t do as well as I wanted I was up at 200 something and then lost it all over a very stupid roll. But it’s fine whether I win this or not I know I’ll get my way. Nicky is going home, let’s just hope he doesn’t win HOH. Don’t ever argue with the HOH when you’re the one on the block LOL!!!

NICKY:

CAN I LIVE? Can i fucking live? there are 16 other people in this and yet i got nommed for a stupid reason yet again. 

WILLIAM:

I'm so glad I escaped this week without being nominated!!! I feel so much better this week than last week! At the end of last week I thought for sure I was gonna leave pre-jury but now I feel like I've made so many real connections and I feel like I am in a great spot with many people

ANDREW:

episode 2 This could be super naive of me to say and a little cocky and i know it 100% IS but i feel like almost everyone in this game loves me besides nicky, i think im just playing a really good social game im scared of eve for some reason i feel like she is the only person possibly playing a better game than me. just get those competitive af vibes from her, i will not go after her unless she comes for me doe. shes super cute tho love her vibes, and I think me and Jess formed and alliance just now As of now Austin Jess and Chris are my top 3 in that order Update: I love Eve, we had an emotional heart to heart about STUFF, ill never forget it and i appreciate her for it so much, even if we don't end up being on the same side in this game together, the bitch is dope. I fucking love these noms dude, my 2 least favorite people sittingpretty on the block and i had nothing to do with it. HORNY cuz they wont even be coming for me. I hope nicky fucking bombs veto. "i cant talk to all 16 of u at once" ya....nobody fuckin asked you too but kristines point is sometimes a simple HELLO can save u from being nominated But regardless im proud of her and her tatse. * has one mixed drink and suddenly wants to fight nicky for no reason * oops i apologized to him and i didn’t even read anything from last night after what i said bc embarrassment. idc if he accept my apology, just wanted to throw it out there so i don’t look like a total douche

CHRIS:

Well week Number two and I’m in two separate alliances, have House majority, close with a few women, beyond the game have final choose with multiple people, should not be on the block for a long time, while slowly running this game behind the scenes with Myself. This backseat life is the best life

GWEN:

Hiiii. So looks like Nicky is going home tonight. He kind of dug his own grave. He was such a party pooper during our house game on Friday. Sooo. Yeah. I’m closest with Kori and Chris - getting closer to Chris for sure. What is it with me and Chris’s in ORGs? I need to get back to work. That is all for now :)

MACKENZIE:

i really gotta uhhhhh try harder bc i feel on the lowest end of the Entire Totem Pole. i feel like if i won smthn that would change but i’m a flop so

DEM:

I actually would have kept Nicky if he had the numbers. I wish he didn't quit. I think he messed up by throwing names around, because some people actually wanted to keep him...

EMMA:

if u cant handle the heat nicky why did u sign up.. quitting is worst then getting evicted.

TAWNI:

Ok since I was out of it last round time for my cast assessment now. Since this was due prior to Nicky quitting I’ll include him Nicky - I forgot he existed week one. Actually sad he quit and was gonna leave cause he was entertaining arguing with Kristine Gwen - I love Gwen. She allows me to not be the official grandma of the game. She is very sociable which is scary. But I think I can trust her. Austin - automatically meh about him cause of his name. Pretty forgettable honestly. Mackenzie - nice gal. Nothing negative to say. Haven’t talked much. Jess - the person I’m most terrified of. When I realized she is THE boojess like fuck me. I’m scared. I feel like as long as I don’t get on her bad side I’m good. William - seems like a good kid. Kristine - I’m v intimidated by her. She won hoh and veto and seems like a very smart player. She makes me nervous. Silence - who???? Brien- ok this kid. I’m doing what I can to get him to trust me. I know he is a loyal person. But am I the person he is loyal to? Or is it someone else? How do I make sure I am that person? Dem - nothing really to say MADISON - I love her sooooooooo much. She’s like the light of my life honestly and if I find out something different I’m gonna cry. Like I feel like a betrayal from her will hurt the most in this game. Andrew - okay first off......damn. I’m aware of his sexual orientation but boy sent me a photo so I could see his tattoos and DAMN!!! I need me a straight one of him. But he is a fun character I like him. Chris - I think I freaked him out when I sent him a long message about how I’m scared of cops. But I didn’t go up week one so that happened. I’m hoping I can work my way into his good graces later. Emma - seems like a sweet gal. I enjoy her. Kori - nothing to say sorry