#it’s been a bumpy road but this one has some of my favourite bits so far in it and i’m so excited to share it with you! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sitp-recs · 1 year

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I posted 4,396 times in 2022

958 posts created (22%)

3,438 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-starryknight

@sitp-recs

@stavromulabetaaa

@lqtraintracks

@ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

I tagged 3,753 of my posts in 2022

Only 15% of my posts had no tags

#asks - 561 posts

#anon - 336 posts

#drarry recs - 231 posts

#drarry art - 205 posts

#fave - 151 posts

#drarry - 121 posts

#to read - 108 posts

#ask game - 93 posts

#drarrymicrofic - 91 posts

#signal boost - 76 posts

Longest Tag: 116 characters

#interacting with adults at that age could have gone terribly wrong but i was lucky to find good people along the way

My Top Posts in 2022:

Hey! Can you please rec some fics by authors with the most unique, beautiful writing style? I’ve read some works of fandom legends like tepre, aideomai etc, maybe there are writers that are not so widely known but very talented nonetheless? Thanks 💓

Hi anon! We are blessed with so many talented authors in this fandom it blows my mind every time I think about it. As someone who knows very little about writing styles, my opinion here is 100% subjective and largely influenced by the fics that came to my mind when I read your ask. I’ll linked them below, together with the authors’ AO3. Enjoy!

@blamebrampton | AO3 | My rec

@corvuscrowned | AO3 | My rec

@drarrytrash | AO3 | My rec

Frayach | AO3 | My rec

@graymatters | AO3 | My rec

@harryromper | AO3 | My rec

@jackvbriefs | AO3 | My rec

Omi_Ohmy | AO3 | My rec

@potteresque-ire | AO3 | My rec

RurouniHime | AO3 | My rec

Seefin (orphaned their works) | My rec

@shealwaysreads | AO3 | My rec

@tackytigerfic | AO3 | My rec

@the-starryknight | AO3 | My rec

thistle_verse | AO3 | My rec

@vivantesopales | AO3 | My rec

And whoever wrote Emerald in the Sky - are you on this list MA???? Let me love you!

279 notes - Posted July 26, 2022

shit-recs

Fill this out pls

287 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

Did you see the update from GallaPlacidia (her email newsletter) that she’s deleting all her fics and podfics 10/1? I mostly most Good Omens stuff so I doubt my followers have read her stuff. I just want to pass along the word so people could download if they want to save her works. They’re all so good! I’ve always loved your posts and you seem to have a wide audience so figured I’d reach out to you, if you’d like to share the info. And if anyone has suggestions on how to save her podfics that would be helpful! I listen to them on my phone and have no idea how to download them. 🤪

Oh no, that’s heartbreaking news! I don’t receive her newsletter so I had no idea. How sad, I know lots of people love her work and will be truly devastated 😰😰 thanks for reaching out and sharing this, I am definitely saving my favourites and I hope everyone has the chance to do the same. Oh and good question about podfics, I’ve never downloaded any either but maybe my followers have some tips to share? Thanks again for this message, I think I’ll pin it for the time being so more people can see the news. Have a lovely week!

GallaPlacidia’s AO3

The GallaPod

@geesenoises has kindly put an archive of GP’s works together, you can access it HERE!

330 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

Happy New Year! Surprising absolutely no one I wasn’t able to finish this in time for NYE, oops!(And that’s why ‘stop procrastinating’ is on my resolutions list 😂). This post probably has tons of typos still so please bear with me, I promise I’ll be back later to correct them!

Simply put, 2021 was a train wreck - I struggled in many ways and decided to take a step back in some regards, including fandom. It’s been a bumpy road but despite the low amount of recs this blog has survived and there were definitely some things to celebrate, too! Once I stopped making reclists I got more free time to read, and I’m proud to say I’ve read a lot. I haven’t felt very confident about my reccing lately, but as I went through my bookmarks and noticed how much I read last year I thought why not spread a bit of love for these works?

Without further ado here are my favorite reads of 2021 featuring Drarry, rare pairs and some gorgeous artworks. This is not intended to be an ultimate list - the works below were chosen solely based on my personal preferences and they reflect very little of what’s been made last year, and what a year it was! Between brilliant microfics, Tumblr drabbles, top notch quality fests, there’s some amazing and varied content to be explored all around. I hope you guys enjoy these works as much as I did, and don’t forget to leave kudos and comments!

The Drarry fandom gave me so much last year; it was there to mend my heart and help me bounce back when I needed it the most. Even the smaller things can make a huge difference in the big picture, and I’m immensely grateful to those who have somehow been a part of it. I wanna give a special shoutout to my friends for your endless love, patience and support. Here’s to a gentler 2022! See you soon ❤️

Drarry:

Phoenix in the Fire by @fw00shy (Explicit, 1.4k)

Their first time was an accident. "Sex pollen," Draco claims, though everyone knows it was too much Ogden's after Puddlemere beat the Tornados 240-230.

This is truly a masterclass in short form, I think I hadn’t read a short fic so gorgeously written since Still Life. Fwoosh took my breath away with the precise choice of words, the subtle way the scenes blend into each other, the sinful smut full of sharp want, the smooth pacing and fabulous dialogue including delicious dirty talk and beautiful punchlines.

The Long Fall by @tackytigerfic (Mature, 3.6k)

It's supposed to be a simple house renovation, and maybe it's just the paint fumes, but Harry is feeling dizzy around Draco Malfoy. And what's the real meaning of family, anyway?

One of my favorite comfort fics, I’ve reread this more times than I can count. Tacky captures romance, wistful pining and the sense of belonging like no one else, I was moved by this devastatingly realistic portrait of married and parenting life. Sensitive, brutally honest and so very tender, this story hits right in the feels - it’s a pleasure to follow every exciting step of this big adventure Harry and Draco get to share.

Two Starts, One Finish by @lqtraintracks (Explicit, 5.4k)

I feel him before I see him. Nobody stands this close to me while I’m playing, and I’m about to turn to tell him so when he says, “You’re a tough bloke to track down,” and then leans against my baby grand.

When I first read this fic I did it three times in a row. I was so charmed and moved by this particular brand of angst: the gentle wistfulness of Draco’s voice, his yearning for Harry, their quiet domestic life and their intense chemistry made my heart burst. Lqt develops their emotional arc through the passage of time with precision and heart - nothing feels rushed, dragged or unimportant. One of the most romantic fics I’ve read this year.

Inside These Walls by @jackvbriefs (Mature, 5.6k)

The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

This fic has one of my favorite premises ever, so creative! The roller blade magic blew my mind and I was obsessed with the intriguing atmosphere and the tension build up. Delicious eerie vibes mixed with an unusual setting, a dark mystery surrounding Harry’s job and his oh so casual sexy display of power, yes please. This suspense is a feast to the senses and will leave you at the edge of your seat until the last line, craving for more.

heavy by @onbeinganangel (Explicit, 6.5k)

Potter isn’t nearly as slick as he thinks he is, is all Draco can think about through the alcohol haze and the dizzying atmosphere of the club. He really, really isn’t. Potter is across the club, surrounded by his usual entourage, looking at Draco when he thinks Draco isn’t looking back.

There’s something to be said about a BDSM fic featured on this reclist as I rarely read this kind of smut. Trust Mari to turn my world upside down with one of the most touching love stories ever. This conflicted Draco and his devotion to Harry -subverting the D/s dynamics we usually see- caught me off guard and made my heart ache for this hot, tenderly vulnerable and unapologetic kink exploration delight.

The Other Cottage by @corvuscrowned (Teen and Up, 6.5k)

If Pansy wasn’t shagging Ginny Weasley, Draco would never have been dragged to Luna’s ridiculous Halloween party in the first place - meaning he wouldn't be sitting in the corner of the room with Harry Potter all night.

One word: chills! Yet another mind blowing suspense, this fic gave me palpitations - the smooth and clever narrative builds a disturbing atmosphere, the creepy sense of unease looming over our heads while watching a tender romance unfold. Crazy, right? Such skill! Really creative concept and a jaw dropping ending, this one is a banger.

A Grey Shrike Alighted upon my Wishbone by @opalesqueopioid (Explicit, 7k)

Cursed to forget everything about Harry Potter, Draco has to kill if he wants a cure.

Gosh, this stunning fic wrecked my heart and soul with its quiet devastation, gorgeous prose and brilliant execution of a quite unique suds concept. Draco’s sharp personality took my breath away and I was equally undone by Harry’s sweet longing, the back-and-forth banter and the raw, inevitable heartbreak. Here’s a poignant portrait of a collapsing relationship, the best pick for angsty days.

Merlin's Kitchen by @writcraft (Explicit, 12k)

Merlin’s Kitchen is a shit nightclub but having sex with Harry Potter might improve things.

Everything by Writcraft has the heart kick factor for me, as if especially crafted to meet my tastes. This sexy clubbing fic has a delicious lively pub atmosphere that makes you feel like you’re right there, watching a carefree and smooth Harry charm Draco with his openness, and be charmed back. Fabulous characterization and gorgeous dialogue, with a mature tone that gives it a thrilling sense of intimacy and promise.

The Virtues of Hygiene and the Binary of Labour by @piarelei (Explicit, 14k)

See the full post

487 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It’s fascinating how some people dismiss smut as something frivolous, vain, lacking substance and therefore value. To be clear, sex is not (and should never be seen as) mandatory in fic, and I feel heartbroken that some authors think they need to include it in order to have their work read or appreciated.

But in my opinion PWPs can be just as deep, nuanced, evocative and narratively powerful as any other story. In fact, they make for excellent character studies and can get you inside a character’s mind in a very particular way. And smut scenes in long fics can be just as useful as narrative tools, often translating dynamics too complex to be explored otherwise. Plus, they’re great for sad horny nights 😔🙌

1,849 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#hahaha 4 is my forever fave #little bitch form ✌🏼#not that many recs this year I guess #I’ll do better next year #my 2022 tumblr year in review

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tomtenadia · 3 years

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Remember Us - part 2

Double feature this week. Here we go with part 2. Rowan takes another step on the path of recovering his life.

Also, we get to meet the kids <3

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When Aelin got home that night after her shift at the hospital, she was tired and not just from the long hours spent in OR. She was tired in her soul. Aelin had managed to keep her thoughts at bay while operating, but as soon as she was out they came back. It had been hard to fight the urge to go and see him again. He wanted space. That was clear so she just went home instead.

Once she crossed the threshold, laughter welcomed her. Her kids sounded happy.

She shed her coat and removed her shoes and followed the happy sounds.

Walking into the kitchen she found her mother cooking and Thomas helping her setting the table and little Freyja banging her plastic cutlery on her high chair. She was a shy girl but would become alive and loud when she was hungry. Just like her mum.

“Mama!” Shouted her daughter as she spotted her.

“Mum,” Thomas echoed his sister and ran to her, hugging Aelin at her knees “hi my darling, how are you?” She kneeled at his height and ruffled his blonde hair.

“Helping grandma cook.”

“Food.” Shouted Freyja who got agitated trying to get the attention of her mother. Aelin went to her daughter and lifted the wee girl in her arms “hi my love,” and she snuggled her head against her mother’s chest.

“Hi mum,” said Aelin to Evalin. The woman stirred something in the pan and turned to her daughter “welcome back, darling.” She said and her gaze turned worried at her daughter’s tired expression.

Aelin shook her head, knowing what her mother was about to say “later,” she added. She did not want to talk about Rowan in front of the kids.

“Come on Tom, sit at the table. Dinner is ready.” On his grandma’s orders the boy climbed on his chair and started eating his meal.

Aelin joined them a moment later, all changed in house clothes and sat at her daughter’s side.

Thomas was three and had just started learning how to use a fork properly. They would cut the food for him and he would try to use the utensil. Rowan had been teaching him. A pang of sadness hit her and pushed back the tears, now it was not the time. She would feed Freyja who was only eighteen months old.

“Did you help grandma cook?”

The boy nodded while taking a bite from his fork and gave her a big smile. His green eyes lighting up with joy. Eyes just like his father’s.

“Aelin, let me feed Freyja. You have your dinner. You haven’t touched it yet.”

Aelin shook her head “I am fine. It can wait.”

Truth was… she felt nauseous and that feeling had nothing to do with being pregnant. It was fear. Terror of losing Rowan. Terror that he would never recover his memories and her kids would be left without a father and her without her soulmate. She almost lost him once. She would never forget the day she got the call from the hospital. Those horrible moments were forever etched in her memory.

Later on that night, once the kids were in bed Evalin joined her daughter on the sofa and brought her a chamomile tea.

“The kids are asleep. What’s troubling you?”

Aelin sighed and her hand went to her stomach “Rowan woke up.”

“Today?”

She nodded in confirmation and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder “I had just left the OR when I got a page from his doctor. I went to his room and he was awake,” a loud sob broke from her lips “he does not remember me or the kids.”

Evalin pulled her daughter closer and hugged her knowing the pain she had been feeling for the past month “Yrene had told you it might happen.”

Aelin nodded slightly “I didn’t think it could hurt that much. He had no idea who I was. He doesn’t remember our kids.” Her sobs turned into proper crying “I am so scared, mum. So, so scared.”

“I know, darling.” Evalin kissed her daughter’s head “you will have to be strong a bit longer. Does the doctor think he will regain his memory?”

Aelin gave her a small nod “but it might take time and what if he realises that he doesn’t want us in his life anymore?”

“Rowan loves you and the kids madly. The road ahead might be bumpy but he will come back.” A ragged breath escaped from Aelin. She hoped her mother was right, because if she was not she doubted she would survive loosing him a second time.

Rowan woke up the next morning with an horrendous headache. He had a fitful sleep and his thoughts had been stuck all night on her. Aelin. His wife. At her side two small shadows representing their kids. In his mind he had this picture of him holding someone, the smell of lemon and verbena strong around him. But he was sure it was more a feeling than an actual memory. He had woken up all of a sudden and hadn’t been able to fall asleep properly since. His body recognised the other one.

A nurse brought breakfast and of one thing he was sure. He hated hospital food. Which led to another series of questions. What did he eat for breakfast? Was he a good cook? What was his favourite food?

Reluctantly he finished the food on his tray and decided to kill the boredom by watching tv. According to the news it was January and the meteorologist were warning all the citizens of Terrasen of a snowstorm warning.

He was so bored watching the news that he felt glad when Aelin knocked on the doorframe “Mind if I come in?”

He shook his head “is tv always this boring?”

Aelin chuckled and for a second she saw a glimpse of him. He always hated tv. The only reason they had one in the house was because she had pestered him about it “yeah. You find reading more interesting.”

He switched off the television and faced her “I am…” he sighed “yesterday… I was overwhelmed. It was… it still is too much.”

“I know,”said Aelin trying to suppress the instinct to touch him. Not until he was okay with it.

“Tell me something about me, about my life. Us… anything.” He started, eager to know more. He needed it “do I like breakfast?”

Aelin laughed “you do, and you are a great cook. On Saturdays you always make us pancakes and let Thomas help you flip them.” She smiled at the image. Thomas on his knees on a chair beside his dad.

“You are a healthy eater so you tend to scoff enormous quantities of fruit and veggies while complaining about my crazy dietary habits.”

She was dying to show him pictures of the kids but decided against it. One step at a time. Let him become familiar with the idea of being married first.

“You are a lawyer. A kickass one at that.” His green eyes were trained on her “you and Lorcan opened your own practice. After graduation you two got a job in a fancy company but eventually got tired of dealing with rich bastards and opened a firm that deals mostly with family law but also offers legal support to us common human beings.” She had been so proud of him. The big job had left him miserable and with very little time to live. He had been stressed and after two years he had realised that the huge salary was not worth it. Lorcan had followed him and together they had started their new adventure. They had started small snd simple, but slowly as they took in more cases they had to start hiring more people and the firm had gotten bigger and successful.

“You love hiking, nature in general and winter. We are both in love with theatre and on our first date you took me to a play.”

Rowan looked at her and that tug in his chest came back for a visit.

“We have been married for seven years and you proposed at my best friend’s wedding. We were dancing and you asked me what if we were the next ones to do that? Then you went on one knee and asked me to marry you.”

He kept listening, adding some more pieces of info to what he had gathered so far. And the more Aelin spoke the more that connection he had felt the day before grew stronger.

“What type of doctor are you?”

“I am the chief of paediatric neurosurgery and I work two floors above this.”

Rowan took a deep breath and asked a question that had been burning in him since she has appeared “do you have any photos of us, of the kids?”

Aelin felt like crying and extracted her mobile phone and scrolled through her huge quantity of photos “This is Thomas. He is three.”

Rowan looked at the boy and saw a blond mop of hair just as golden as his mother’s and two striking green eyes just like his. In the photo the boy was laughing while he held him in his arms.

Aelin swiped and the image of a little girl appeared and he gasped. There was no doubt that she was his daughter. Her hair was silver as his and even her eyes were the exact copy.

“She is so much like you.” He noticed the smile appearing on Aelin’s face. While she talked about their life her face had lit up and in front of him he had the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Probably. He wasn’t sure but Aelin took his breath away.

“Are we happy? As a family?”

Aelin nodded without even thinking about it. They were, she had no doubts about it “Yes. We wanted a family, kids. It was our choice.”

Rowan nodded and wanted to believe her, needed to believe the passion and the love in her voice.

“I need time.” He said quietly, averting his gaze from hers for just a brief moment “This is a lot that I need to process. I will need time but I want to hear more.”

Aelin sobbed and grabbed her backpack and extracted another mobile phone “this is yours. It survived the crash because you used a military grade protecting cover. I just charged it. The password is 0305.” She gave him the mobile “it has photos, texts. Everything is still there, maybe it will help.”

Aelin looked at her watch and stood “I have to go, I have a surgery in two hours.”

Rowan nodded.

“You can text me if you want. My contact is under Fireheart.”

He looked at the phone and then at her “will you come back?”

Aelin took a step toward him and kissed his silver hair as she did the previous day and then nodded.

She waved at him and disappeared through the door.

He moved his attention to the phone and tried to figure out how to switch it on. Once he did it asked him a pin code and he entered the digits she had told him.

Once the phone was unlocked he was welcomed by a picture of him, Aelin and the kids on a beach. He had Freyja on his shoulders and was laughing as she patted his head. Aelin was holding Thomas potato sack style and the boy was grinning. With his fingers he traced her face and then went looking for the photo album. Before opening he hesitated. His life, his memories were there and he was scared.

There were picture of his wife. Plenty of them and she always had an amazing smile. Of one thing he was sure:Aelin took his breath away. Photos of their kids and he spotted one of what he suspected was a newborn Freyja. He held the little bundle in his arms while Thomas was at his side staring at his sister. He saw happiness, he saw joy, but most of all he saw love. Deep love that bound the four of them. Aelin had not lied. They seemed happy. He found photos of what he assumed were friends but he could not tell who they were, he hadn’t covered that part yet. Accepting the idea of a wife and kids was hard enough. He was not ready yet to add more people. The mere idea made him feel dizzy.

He was getting tired again even if it was only morning, but he pushed through and found the app with the text messages and went to look at the ones from Aelin and he read the last one she sent him go and win your case and then tonight I will show you how proud I am of my sexy lawyer.

He scrolled back through the thread and read random texts between them until he went back a few months and saw a text with a picture attached.

You are away for work and I miss you. I went for my first proper check-up and I am proud to share with you the picture of the new member of our family. The image was greyish and grainy but the message was clear: Aelin was pregnant again.

He placed the phone on his lap and closed his eyes calming the sense of panic overwhelm him.

And with his eyes closed he tried to remember.

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #rowaelinkids #angst

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cina-full-moon-xanadium · 3 years

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At long last, I’ve finished my rewatches of Kamen Rider OOO and Kamen Rider Ghost. Every single episode, watched weekly, matching original airdates; that I’ve been doing throughout the entire year. How’d it go?

Once again, this isn’t quite over yet. You didn’t think I was gonna watch all this stuff and end it purely at the last episodes of OOO and Ghost, right? Nah, course you didn’t; loads of movies and little specials for post-series content I’ll be getting too later! Two of them in fact are on Friday and Tuesday, if you can believe it! Ghost was a series that really didn’t slow down for content it seems.

And I’m not complaining -- starting off with my final thoughts on Ghost, this was a beautiful, beautiful ride and despite being partnered with my former favourite OOO, who I would still say I like a bit more than this one; Ghost ended up the highlight of this rewatch by a longshot. SO much depth and theming I didn’t realise was there; frankly a lot of surface-level things I didn’t allow myself to see back in mid-2018. And because it’s been such a highlight I feel I’d be repeating myself a lot here -- the themes of connection! Reaching out and valuing life through a religious lens! Alain’s arc being the best thing ever! Takeru’s heavy emphasis on protecting and being at one with life!

A lot of it fell off at the end, unfortunately. Ghost was a show that I felt was best at expressing its ideas and characterisation through MOTW stories; there was expert craftmanship at play with how engaging those were while still advancing our ongoing stories. It unfortunately doesn’t translate well to when the end is a long, long section of dealing directly with that ongoing story and quite a bit of the theming falls apart there -- not to mention how unfortunate it is that connection is expressed quite a bit through “there’s no parent that doesn’t love their child” which, ech, horrible lesson to send to kids. There’s a bit of an opposite to OOO going on here; where I felt watching that show weekly made the flaws of its episodic plots more apparent, but seriously upped the hype of the final segment? But here it makes the positives of the episodic plots more apparent while making the last stretch feel far more dull.

But while those negatives do remain and they did dull my experience a little towards the end, they can’t keep down what is otherwise in my opinion one of Kamen Rider’s greatest outings and it certainly helps that we had one hell of an epilogue dealing with some of Ghost’s greatest points, bringing things full circle and looking back at all the things that brought us here while looking to the future of not just its own world but what Kamen Rider as a whole would have going forward. This is a show that I wasn’t quite sure what I’d get out of on a rewatch -- it’s one where I did remember not liking a lot of aspects of it and rating it as one of my least favourites; but as time went on I could barely remember why that was while many people around me whose opinions I generally agree with were speaking praises of their own time with it. I wasn’t sure how this would go, and my harsh initial viewing of it meant it was a lot more mysterious to me than OOO. But what I’ve ended up with is something seriously special, something that’s become one of my favourite Tokusatsu shows, and it’s difficult to think of much better for my favourite series’ 50th anniversary.

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Rewatching OOO and Ghost has been a wonderful ride. Again, it’s not quite over; there’s post-series content most of which I will be waiting a little while to get to (maybe about a month? give or take?), but in terms of the shows themselves, watching every episode weekly... that was something else. It was a bumpy road, mind: I didn’t even get to start it when I wanted to due to computer issues; other delays came up from other computer repairs and the like... but all in all that’s stuff that could have happened to me back in 2010 and 2015, y’know? And one of the whole points of this little experiment was to replicate the experience of what it would be like to be watching OOO and Ghost when they were originally airing. It wasn’t just about OOO and Ghost themselves - but they were very intentional picks, celebrating the 50th by going back to what was my favourite and what was one of my least favourites and seeing how they held up to my tastes in the modern day - but also about watching a past series roughly as it was meant to be watched. In the same way I was watching Saber or Kiramager or Z.

It was... an exhausting one! I always try to keep up with whatever new Kamen Rider, Super Sentai and Ultraman episode is out each week; and this year I even added Precure to that count for the first time. Not to mention that at around the same time as all this, the official Ultraman channel was also uploading episodes of Gridman weekly and I decided to follow on with that -- so keep in mind at one point this meant I was watching about 7 shows weekly! It was a bit insane! That’s a lot of Toku (and Precure counts as Toku shut up) to take in, and all the while I was having to use wikipedia episode guides and looking up movie dates and doing some research into stuff like HBVs to make sure they all lined up correctly as well. I also initially attempted to do big write-ups for each episode on friend groups on discord! There was a LOT going into this! It’s not something, spoiler alert, I intend to be repeating for Fourze and Ex-Aid now that they’re ‘starting’! I definitely won’t be doing anything like this for a while... but I absolutely do not regret it, and it absolutely was a fun time despite (perhaps because of?) the effort I put into it. What can I say? It started off as a fun little experiment, but seeing these heroes reach out and live their lives burning bright... it hit me as emotionally as it could have. Seeya next movie!

#the king who controls desire #fight with the power of heroic souls

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arielana · 4 years

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RNM Creators Week 2020

Day 5 - Angst

Ah, I love love love all the angst! and let’s face it with Malex there’s usually at least a tiny bit of angst in most things. It’s been a real challenge to stick to the plan of only featuring each author on one specific day. I mean I’ve already mentioned some fabulous angsty stuff on previous days, but anyway here are some more of my favourites that I’ve decided will fit the angst theme.

Also, while they can feature one of them being a complete idiot, they are not completely one-sided, I need my Malex fics to acknowledge that they both have areas they need to work on (basically they’re idiots and I love them).

A Thrill of Hope - @aewriting

This author’s list of works is abolutely stunning. I have pretty much all their fics on my list of favourites, so limiting myself to just one hurts, but it was either choosing one or like listing twenty. I went with this 14k emotional masterpiece of Michael and Alex getting stuck together due to a snow storm. It’s full of tension, of them misinterpretating each other and poking at each other, but since they can’t just storm off they have to actually talk and eventually open up about what they really want and it is glorious!

Maybe I Will be Ok - @ninswhimsy /ninhursag

Taking ”If anyone’s gonna destroy me, it might as well be you” and really running with it, this is absolutely fantastic. I discovered it by someone else talking about it on tumblr and it floored me completely! Michael just accepting (his interpretation of) the situation and Alex being horrrifed at the thought and then completely taking charge. Words can’t describe how much I love it!

Also, all the author’s nsfw stuff is really on point.

The storm inside him grew - @spaceskam /lostin_space

Mmm, first of all this author has a really impressive number of fics and every single one I’ve read is really good! This specific one I go back to over and over again to cry for Alex and to be frustrated at the stupid, stupid cowboy who can be so oblivious. The line ”what’s so special about you” grrrr, I mean I love him but I want to shout at him. This is written from Alex perspective and so beautiful and emotional.

Don’t Look Back In Anger - Page161of180

This is a fairly new fic that came out this summer by an author who has only written this one fic for RNM, but wow did they nail it on the first attempt! (If anyone knows if they’re on tumblr please let me know).

Michael Sanders decides to attempt the ”keep your enemies close” tactic by seducing the youngest Manes man and the story follows them from high school and up. It’s described as ”(sort of) AU” and many things are familiar. For me it really nails the characters so well, the drama and Michael’s internal struggle and the way some things are just meant to be!

A Brand New Road - @captainsassmanes /Loveislove87

This was exactly what I needed at a certain point of Malex-misery - that Michael is forced to actually deal with his feelings for Alex. Noone is really painted as a bad guy, I think it also handles Michael and Maria in a good way, but Michael has to really confront his choices after Alex suddenly leaves town. His reaction is exactly what I wanted to see, and it leads to a bumpy road where there are actual conversations and consequences and all the feelings! Lovely!

Touching you I start to bloom - @manesalex

I missed to include this lovely arranged marriage fic on AU day as planned. This story has a bit of everything, not just angst, it is really the complete package. However, it is tagged as light angst AND it has a scene where Alex has a breakdown which is just so emotional and always makes me hurt so much for him, so I’ve decided it fits today as well.

To Trust Love - @laughsalot3412

Aaah, I don’t even know what to say. I know everyone loves it already, but it needs to be mentioned a million times more. It hits me so hard each time I read it. Perfect!

#rnmcreate2020 #rnm creators week #lovely lovely angst #people who just rip my heart out #and then give me hope again

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underatedcharactersunite · 4 years

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Part of @deansamore end of challenge. Had slight issues with my laptop so this has been a bit of bumpy start to my challenge. New posts for definite coming Thursday.

Day 4 Day 8

1) Travelling Tig doesn’t very often because when he does travel, it tends to be club business. However, one day Tig decides he wants to spend some quality time with you away from the club.

2)Tig doesn’t typically plan anything, so expect travelling to be spontaneous. It doesn’t always mean a ride on his motorcycle somewhere. Tig ends up buying a truck purely for taking trips with you in it.

3)You and Tig enjoy taking road trips together. The two tend to sleep in the truck and pick up things as you require them. By doing so, the two of you can end up anywhere. It’s also helpful to incase anyone who is working against the club recognises Tig.

4) When Tig falls for you, he wants to be the best man he can be. He desires to take you places and give you the best life possible. While Tig would never tell you this, he understands that you could do so much better than him. Someone with a normal job so he tries to show you how interesting life could be while you’re with him.

5) The more the two of you travel, the two of you discover your favourite places to stop by, different restaurants and motels. The two of you never to be bored as there is always something to do.

6)Music is a vital part of your road trips. It can set a mood driving to your location. The two of you have the opportunity to discover new music.

7) Tig’s past is full of horror and dark moments as he begins to travel with you. He realises that he can have these moments with you. So whenever Tig can, the two of you hit the road to try and bring some light into the bad.

8) Wherever the two of you travel to both of you collect a random souvenir from a random gift shop or place. It rests on a peculiar shelf in your home. This spot holds a special place in your hearts.

9) Tig buys a polaroid camera, so the two of you don’t have to wait to get them printed. He also likes how you can write a caption on it as well. Considering it’s Tig, some of those captions are pure filth, and even you wonder what he was thinking when he wrote it.

10) Tig wishes he could travel with you more. No matter where the two o you end up, the two of you always manage to have a good time.

#sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy imagines #sons of anarchy oneshot #sons of anarchy one shot #Tig Trager imagines #Tig Trager imagine #Tig Trager one shot #Tig Trager oneshot #soa imagine #soa imagines #soa one shot #soa oneshot

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dancedelion · 4 years

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Sleep of the Dead (part 2 / 3)

Genre: some humour, angst with a happy ending Summary: Jaskier thinks he hit rock bottom when Geralt flushed twenty years of friendship down the drain, but then he finds himself suddenly translucent and rudely walked through by a traveller. Apparently he’s dead - that’s certainly a new low. He needs to find out what happened, and who better to help him than the man who’s made more than clear he wants nothing to do with him. ao3: Sleep of the Dead - Chapter Two Chapter One

It’s clear as anything Geralt doesn’t want him here. He doesn’t even look at Jaskier and barely acknowledges his presence. But Jaskier can’t leave, even knowing he’s overstayed his welcome by days, months, years perhaps.

But it’s not all bad. Sometimes it gets so close to what Jaskier really wants that he can feel his heart breaking.

In the tavern, an amateur bard – if he is even worthy of the title – is butchering one of Jaskier’s songs. He yells over the music in Geralt’s ear as he’s nursing a drink. “You call that an A sharp? To me it sounds more like a D minus. Booh!”

Geralt seems to be smirking, so Jaskier is happy to continue.

“B flat? Oh, no, it sounded very, very bumpy.”

Prowling around the stage like he owns the place, the halfwit. Then – Jaskier lets out a loud gasp. “This goes to far! The line is ‘kissed her sea shell’, not ‘kissed her lips’. He’s messed up the rhyme scheme! Not to mention the complicated underlying symbolism. Geralt! I give you permission to take your sword and -”

“How many times do I have to say this? I’m not going to kill anyone for you.”

“What about light stabbing?” “This is not a negotiation.”

Jaskier gestures wildly with his arms.

“But you heard him! He’s terrible, playing my song. Don’t you agree?”

“Didn’t sound any different to me.” “Didn’t – uhm – what?!” Jaskier is nearly flailing now. “I’m dead, the least you could do is pay some respects!”

Geralt, very rudely, does not pay any respects and smirks into his drink instead.

An elegant lute with intricate carvings is propped up against one of the market stalls.

“Geralt, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Sometimes, the tiredness fades to a dull throb behind Jaskier’s eyelids. No matter how he feels, Jaskier pretends everything is fine, so Geralt won’t worry. (Not that Geralt would ever even look at him.)

“An overcrowded market filled with thieves and swindlers?” Geralt answers, so low that bystanders can’t hear him talking to the air.

“I’m seeing the afterlife worthy of the greatest troubadour on the continent! A lute that must have been crafted in heaven.”

“Good luck trying to pick it up.”

Huh. That does put a damper on it. None the matter. Jaskier is switching strategies.

“I might not be able to pick it up, but you know who has two fully functioning hands and a soft spot for bards not currently in the possession of useful things like money or a real body?”

“Hope you find him before the market closes.”

Jaskier turns around, definitely not pouting, and watches a woman trip over her dress in the middle of the market.

“Honestly,” he huffs. The woman grabs a tablecloth to drag herself up again, but instead all the fruits on the table come crashing down. “What has to happen for you to do something nice for me? Hell freezes over? It rains tiny horses?” Jaskier turns back around. “Why do you always -” Geralt is, as was to be expected, not listening. However, he is, as was certainly not to be expected, already over at the stall with the lute talking to the vendor.

Jaskier is innocuously smiling when Geralt straps the lute to Roach’s back.

“Shut up,” Geralt says.

Jaskier smiles more widely.

Ghosts can’t do much, Jaskier finds. They mostly – are. He used to love being. It was one of his favourite activities. But now… Ghosts can’t play the lute, which Geralt thankfully doesn’t mention, even as he drags the lute across the country. Maybe they are both living in fantasy land, where hope grows on trees.

And ghosts can’t sleep. And Jaskier is just so, so…

“Gods! Do you see this flower? This might be the prettiest flower I have seen in my entire life – oops, went a little too far there in the sentence. Let’s just say it’s the prettiest flower I have ever seen.”

It’s sitting right next to the path, radiating beauty and positive feelings. Geralt is staring straight ahead, not sparing it a glance.

“And can you guess whose hair it would look awfully pretty in?” Jaskier says.

Geralt’s eyebrows go up.

“Roach’s, obviously,” Jaskier says cheerfully. “Why, what did you think?”

Geralt huffs. It really is like talking to an air vent sometimes.

“Come on. I know only one opinion counts for you and I’m sure Roach would love it. Am I right, Roach?”

Roach, quite obviously in answer to his question, lifts her head a little. So Geralt, the big softie, picks the flower and puts it behind Roach’s ear, turning her effectively into the most beautiful horse in the country.

(And Jaskier wishes so much he could have this. Could touch Roach’s mane. Could feel the wind rolling through the trees. Could put his arm around Geralt’s shoulder.) (He slumps, letting a form sag he doesn’t even have.)

(Is this punishment, he wonders. Being able to close his eyes, but never to rest. Being allowed to see, but not touch. Having to watch the world turn on without him.)

Geralt walks a few steps ahead while Jaskier picks up a tune. At least he can still sing. Even if he’s missing the appreciative audience. (Is this what he is supposed to see? Geralt getting on without him, so Jaskier finally sees Geralt doesn’t need him, the world doesn’t need him, that he can let go? If that was the case, they really shouldn’t have let him hear that imposter of a bard play his song.)

“You know what the absolute worst part of this is? I can’t change my outfit. I died in my least favourite doublet. Fuck me, am I right?”

Geralt is by himself in the forest, listening only to the fire crackling in front of him.

“Not actually, I guess. None of that will be happening any time soon, I suspect, seeing that I’m dead.”

It’s not cold, exactly, not to a witcher, but he draws his jacket closer.

“Why am I wearing my least favourite doublet? Shouldn’t my spiritual form be a representation of my glorious self? I want a golden jacket. Maybe a bit of glitter, some sparkles.” “Could stand in the fire. Plenty of sparkles,” Geralt says unprompted.

He allows his eyes to slide over, just a tad to the right. The firelight doesn’t hit Jaskier. He looks barely there. He looks like he will fade out any minute.

He’s just a nightmare, nothing more.

Looking is an indulgence and torture at the same time. Hugging the knife, loving the taste of poison. Fluffed up hair, a fine looking doublet, he is sitting by the fire like a breathing man. He is different, more quiet, more wary, but so undeniably Jaskier.

This is just a mountain fantasy. The universe is cruel, that’s true, but not like this. This goes too far.

(You killed him on the mountain. You gave him the push.)

Geralt looks back to the fire. Is alone. By himself. Just him and Roach. Jaskier is far, far away and warm and breathing and alive alive alive

“Oh, Geralt” – there is nothing – “why must you” – only a shadow voice – “be so -” Geralt closes his eyes. There is only the wind.

“Wait, what’s that? I think – oh, fuck, Geralt -”

Geralt jerks, hears a noise from behind – is about to grab his sword – but something hits the back of his head and suddenly everything

It’s not unusual for Geralt to wake up in chains. This time, his prison is moving. His head is throbbing, but it won’t last long. Geralt slowly blinks his eyes open. He’s in the back of a carriage. Road’s bumpy. It’s hard to make out shapes at first, but Geralt looks around frantically – oh, thank goodness, there is –

No one. He is alone.

“You’re awake! That’s a relief. I was scared out of my mind.”

Geralt, for no particular reason at all, smiles a little.

“I didn’t see anyone coming but suddenly there was this shadow and I was like woah, but it was already too late and I barely made it behind you into the carriage. But now that you’re awake, it’s all good. Let’s escape!”

Geralt tugs at his chains, but they are tight around his wrists. Whoever locked him up did a good job.

“Too bad neither of us can walk through walls,” Geralt says.

“I’m not leaving you, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“I’m suggesting you do some recon.” The least the hallucination can do is make itself useful, since it’s living in Geralt’s mind rent-free.

“I’m not walking through the walls,” the hallucination says stubbornly.

“Why not?” “It’s weird. It’s… unsanitary.”

“I think hygiene is the least of your problems.”

Jaskier starts pacing the small space, though he can only go two steps before he has to turn around. The only light comes in from the gridded window behind him.

“The point is, I’m not doing it. It’s scary. Walking past instead of through walls is a hard habit to rid yourself of.”

“Fine. Then we’ll just wait it out and let my kidnappers get on with whatever nefarious plans they have for me.”

“Don’t you have a plan? You’re a witcher, you can come up with something.” “I do have a plan.”

Geralt stares at Jaskier intently. Jaskier throws up his arms in exasperation.

“Well, what would you do if your friend hadn’t conveniently been turned into a ghost for you?”

“Enjoy the imprisonment until an unlikely escape or very likely torture with adjacent death.”

Jaskier finally sighs loudly.

“Okay, okay, but just so you know –“

“If you feel vaguely uncomfortable walking through wood for a brief moment, it’s my fault?”

“That’s right.”

They wait until, a while later, the carriage comes to a stop.

Jaskier cracks his neck, as if preparing for a fight, and then hesitantly steps toward the carriage wall. In an instant, he’s disappeared.

And Geralt –

(The room seems suddenly much smaller, the air colder. He hears nothing. Inexplicably, his stomach is churning.)

Geralt is alone.

“Do recon, he says. Use your special ghost powers to save me, he says,” Jaskier grumbles. “Does that brute have any idea -” Jaskier, not looking where he was going, had accidentally walked through a man in a robe. He suppresses a sigh. That robe just screams fashion-ignorant mage. Geralt will not be happy.

He can spot three carriages in total. Judging by the heavy locks and bars in front of the small window, one of them only for the purpose of keeping a prisoner. Interesting. Had they always planned on kidnapping Geralt or was kidnapping in general just such a frequent activity for them that they had to come prepared? Like, hm, better take our prison chamber along, who knows what kind of non-suspecting witcher we’ll run into? How awfully sensible of them.

Now, what about the entourage? There are quite a few people on horses, many heavily armoured, some dressed like the snobs from court. One of them is standing in front of Geralt’s carriage, all glum, and taking his job very seriously, as though he is expecting Geralt to tear apart his chains and smash through the door any second. Robe-guy is also keeping an eye on the carriage, which can’t be good.

And who’s at the top of this chain of peacocks and bulls? Jaskier can only see him from behind, the doublet that’s way over the top, the feathery hat, chest puffed out.

Next to him, a woman is talking to him, turned sideways. She looks oddly familiar, but Jaskier can’t place it.

He tries to take a peak at the flag the riders are carrying, but the angle is bad and he can only make out some rose colours.

“What on earth is he thinking?” someone shouts right next to Jaskier’s head. He stumbles back, his head whipping around.

Just two run-of-the-mill soldiers chatting, it seems. But the horse they are feeding looks rather familiar. “Not so loud,” the smaller guy answers.

Uuuh, gossip. Jaskier is all ears.

“He’s out of his mind to bring a –“ the taller one continues. “Will you shut up? He just wants to make use of his assets. And you heard what happened to the other guy.”

“That’s no reason to fraternize with the bloody Butcher of Blaviken.”

Ah, gossiping about Geralt. That’s not so great.

“And now we’re being forced to take care of his damn horse -” “Paid, we’re being paid to -”

“Fuck off. Like he’s fucking royalty, we’re feeding his horse carrots. I don’t even have a horse.”

Jaskier can feel anger bubble up in him, but he only clenches his fist. In another lifetime, he would have given these people a piece of mind, one so big they would choke on it. But a gush of wind cannot sway someone’s opinion, much less knock them over the head with a stolen lance-thingy.

“What’s that you’ve been riding on all this time?” Mr. Small says and snickers. “An armadillo?”

“A what? No, that horse is a loan from the boss. It’s his horse.” There’s a small moment of despondent silence.

“I want a horse,” Mr. Tall says quietly.

Roach, ever the good horse, snaps her teeth in his direction.

“The witcher’s a monster. He stinks. He can’t love, everyone knows that, and he’s made to be violent – you know what he did in Blaviken. And to top it all off,” he raises his voice, becoming agitated, “he didn’t teach his horse any bloody manners.”

Years long Jaskier spent singing to anyone who would listen (or at any rate looked like they wouldn’t throw tomatoes at him until he got at least two songs out) what a great pal Geralt is, no, listen, he’s really great, you should see him once he’s taken a bath. And still, there’s people like these. Jaskier grits his teeth together until his jaw hurts.

“Shh, shh,” Mr. Small tells Roach and starts petting her head, “he doesn’t mean it.”

Mr. Tall is shaking his head, clearly still invested in hating Geralt as passionately as possible.

“If you’re asking me, I say we should take a pike and punch it through the bastard’s -”

Jaskier is definitely not asking. In fact, he is walking away. And through a carriage wall, if he must.

Geralt is right where Jaskier left him, except maybe a little more despondent.

“It’s not exactly a witcher-friendly environment.”

Jaskier comes right out with the merry news. Geralt lifts his head at that, tilts it thoughtfully. “They did kidnap me.”

So nonchalant, the man with heart of stone. But Geralt, of course, is used to the hatred. (People don’t just throw tomatoes at him, if worst comes to worst.)

“Apparently, some of them want to kill you.”

Geralt shrugs.

“It’s not so bad, by the looks of it.”

He fixes Jaskier with an expression that can’t be amused, must logically fall into the category of annoyed or at least indifferent. He’s made more than clear on the mountain –

Jaskier has lost them then, the smirks, the well-meant jabs, the companionable silences.

(Now who is seeing ghosts?) “Not – excuse you, didn’t you hear me when I told you about the outfit? Every day the same one, no variety, no -” He pauses and gives Geralt a calculating once-over. “I see how that wouldn’t be a problem for you. Is this the only shirt you own?”

“Getting off-topic.” “Right, right. So it seems to be some nobleman’s entourage. I spotted a mage too, might want to make a big bow around her. Pretty heavy locks and soldiers everywhere.”

Geralt is starting to look more pained with every word, the way that usually signals to Jaskier it’s his turn to be the optimistic one. Come to think of it, he almost always leaves that duty to Jaskier.

“Got any good news too?” he grunts. “Let me think – ah, those goons who want you dead seem to be extremely afraid of the guy who kidnapped you.”

Now Geralt looks at him coldly.

“How reassuring.”

“Ah, chin up,” Jaskier tries, “I’m sure everything -”

In that moment, the door snaps open. Jaskier flinches. He had expected to be able to hear them fumble with the multitude of locks they’d installed at the door before their grand entrance. And of course – it’s the magician. Who else could be so effortlessly dramatic?

“Witcher,” the mage announces snottily.

“Kidnapper,” Geralt inclines his head politely.

The mage ignores him, only looking around the carriage and taking another step inside.

“Wait,” he holds up a hand, “I’m sensing something strange around here.”

Jaskier recoils – then he straightens his doublet, scratches his head.

“Strange?” he mumbles, slightly offended.

“A draft?” Geralt asks, playing innocent, but Jaskier can hear the quiet amusement in his voice.

“No, not a draft.” The mage flicks his tongue in annoyance. “Something of magical origin.”

“Aaw, Geralt, did you hear that? He thinks I’m magical,” Jaskier preens, “and he hasn’t even seen what I can do with a lute and -”

“Perhaps a rat,” Geralt interrupts, levelling the mage with his stare.

“A rat?” Jaskier is getting more offended by the second. “Can’t you at least give me mouse? Mice are cute.”

Geralt is not quite smiling, but Jaskier can see little wrinkles around his eyes.

“None the matter,” the mage says. “You’ve been surprisingly easy to get a hold off, witcher. Not on top of your game, is that it? There are rumours you’ve lost your mind.”

Jaskier has a sneaking suspicion that last part might be his fault.

“Then why bother talking to me?” Geralt says only. “I’m not sure how much you’ll gain from the nonsensical ramblings of a lunatic.”

The mage’s lips thin out.

“It’s not information we need.”

That hopefully minimizes the chance for torture, unless they are out for revenge or torture just for the joy and fun of it. Jaskier starts circling the man, pondering if he might be lying.

“Then what is?”

Jaskier is painfully aware that Geralt is the only one of them in danger, the only one who can get hurt, and yet Jaskier is scared as if he were tied to Geralt, back to back. (And alive enough to feel the chains around his wrists.)

“For one, you needed to be neutralized. You should really be more careful where you mumble about your travel plans to yourself.”

At that, Jaskier perks up – travel plans?

“What’s wrong with my travel plans?” Geralt says, “Lettenhove not sunny enough this time of year? Inns too expensive?”

“It seems your plans were interfering with our own.”

Geralt doesn’t seem to find it necessary to mention that him and Jaskier hadn’t exactly had a plan, at least none exceeding “go to Jaskier’s hometown”. Jaskier starts to become suspicious. The mage might know something they don’t.

“In what way?” “That shouldn’t concern you, witcher.”

Great, Jaskier thinks. When has a mage ever been forthcoming?

What does the mage want in Lettenhove? Jaskier tries to focus, on anything other than the feeling of falling asleep, of being so terribly, terribly tired – what was before? If something happened in Lettenhove, it’s all the more likely Jaskier ended up there, too – that it happened to him too.

“We only need your help to get into the castle,” the mage goes on.

“Have you tried the door?” Geralt says drily.

“It’s not quite so simple.”

“Mind being less of a cryptic bastard?”

“You’ll see when you get there. I just want to make sure you are going to cooperate.”

“Ah, I don’t know,” Geralt narrows his eyes. “You haven’t even offered me tea.”

“But you are still alive. If you need more incentive, how about this,” the mage lets a ball of fire float above his palm, “I will be with you every step of the way.”

“Unwavering support. How nice,” Geralt says. “But I usually manage without.”

“We’re not taking any chances, witcher.”

The mage extinguishes his flame.

“Rest now. We will start our journey again in the morning.”

With those words, the mage disappears, the doors slamming shut behind him.

A breath leaves Jaskier’s body, one he would be damned to let Geralt hear.

“I would feel more well-rested if you hadn’t knocked me out,” Geralt says to the air.

“A little insulting they only sent their mage and not the head of the operation to make ominous threats,” Jaskier remarks.

“Didn’t you hear? That wasn’t a threat. He only wanted to hold my hand and pet my head while I did his dirty work.”

“Veiled threat, then,” Jaskier decides to compromise. “Well fuck. What do we do now?”

Geralt doesn’t seem overly optimistic, but then - he never does. And he makes it out of every tough spot in the end, Jaskier knows. But now he only shrugs, seeming more like a ghost than he has any right to, considering the circumstances.

We can’t both fade out, Jaskier thinks. You have to hold on. They say a person lives on through memory. Who is going to faintly think of me every ten years and not speak to a soul about my existence if you are gone?

Jaskier thinks this very intently, but Geralt doesn’t look any less tired once he is done. He only blinks, once, twice, and looks at Jaskier very slowly, the way he never does anymore.

“I’d say you better start remembering what happened to you.”

#the witcher fanfiction #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #geraskier fanfic #the witcher fic #geraskier fic

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hoaxexistence · 4 years

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How I Met Your Mother.

This show inhabit a special place in my heart, and that is why my first show review here will be about it. The most controversial ending in the 21st century television. I'll start. Spoilers alert obviously.

Season 1 - We were introduced to this life of Ted Mosby. We got to know his friends, Lily, Barney, his best friend Marshall, and Robin. In this season, the audience's sympathy and feelings were with Ted. The feeling of finding someone to love and to have their feelings reciprocated equally. At some point, we were all Ted - stupid, indecisive, hopeless romantic. He's smart, supportive and loving and we saw that in the first season.

Season 2 - Since Ted is stupid, he cheated on someone for someone who isn't sure with him. Yes, last season, he cheated on Victoria for Robin. Crazy. Still, he's a great friend anyone could ask for. He never leave Marshall when Lily left and supported his sadness. In this season, I saw Barney's heart. He is more than a womanizer that he always wanted to portray. He does care. Takeaway in this season, I realized that love is something that most people search and never find that's why when you find that person you feel like you want to spend your life with, you do something about it and you keep them. Lily and Marshall proves that. And that it's not bad to chase your dreams as long you know how to weigh things. And art is life.

Season 3 - "it's funny how sometimes you just find things." In this season, Lily and Marshall started to build their own life by owning their own house (kinda redundant but who cares?). Ted, who still believe in love, dated again. Robin tried to live her life in the way she thinks suits her. The takeaway in this season is that when you have a dream, you gotta hold on to them. It can be hard, there will be obstacles along the way and we should face them because those can be the path that can lead us to where we supposed to be. Risking is not that scary if you know you got the right people with you.

Season 4 - Finding your purpose. I'm not one to talk about this topic because I personally have no idea about mine. But in this season, I felt the same way with Ted (I totally relate to him and I hate it) about what he wanted to do. It was a bumpy road for the gang in terms of their personal life and career, but in the end, Ted decided to teach (damn it, just to be clear, I never wanted to be a teacher, oh fvck, what if I end up like him?) Anyway, season takeaway: if you feel like you do not fit in to something, probably, you have to leave. Some things may be waiting for you to discover and you just haven't found it yet because you're stuck trying to push yourself into something you're not for. And you may be doing other people a favor by doing so.

Season 5 - "You can ask the universe for signs all you want. But ultimately we only see what we want to see, when we're ready to see it." A good season. Lily and Marshall's character were growing. Barney, kept his awesome self but his character keeps on showing softness which can be visible every now and then. Robin, well I personally don't like her (probably because I see myself in her, dammit) Ted, on the other hand, never stop believing in love tho he did doubt it when Stella left him at the altar and in some parts at season 2. But he's Ted Mosby, he'll start believing again. My personal favourite episode in this season I think, is 'the last cigarette ever', I don't know, I just love the friendship that was shown on that episode. Anyway, season takeaway: when you ask for a sign, that's already a sign. And you can't force your way out into something because you got to deal with them at some point.

Season 6 - "Sometimes things need to fall apart to make way for better things" yea that's the exact quote but I like to say it this way: some things fall apart so that better things can fall together. Same thought but better right? Yea, whatever. Lol. This season is full of emotions. Like a lot of emotions. I can say that the writers really outdid themselves. Marshall's father died, which I never saw coming. And tell you what, I've seen the show four times and I still cry on that scene. And Barney, he met his dad, and that scene on his dad's court, that broke me. Neil's acting was superb. Season takeaway: forgive people. Forgive yourself. Enjoy the little things. Appreciate each moment. Cherish the people who make you feel loved. Never hurt other people intentionally and make wise decisions. That's quite hard, but I guess doable.

Season 7 - "Not because something needs to be said, does it mean it needs to be heard." I don't know why I chose this quote for this season but I just did, so. Anyway, this is a good season, I loved this season, tbh. Lily gave birth to their son, Marvin. New beginnings, but Ted, somehow was still unable to settle his feelings. (I don't want to elaborate, just watch the damn show) And I hate him for being so dumb. There's this episode entitled, 'symphony of illumination' and 'tick, tick, tick' yea, those bummed me. I love how those episodes tugged my heart.

Shoot, two more seasons. Lol. Okay, FYI, it has been more than a year since I last saw the show, so everything I wrote here is based on memory and a little bit of help from ecosia so that I don't misquote them. Lol. Continue.

Season 8 - oh! this season, one of the best. The most elaborate proposal that I have ever seen. It was a blessing to the people. Jk. But, that proposal was so perfect I freakin cried. In this same season, Ted had a very touching imagination. He looked for his wife. He gave the lines - which I memorized, and told what he felt at that time and I just bawled like a baby the whole scene. It was perfectly sad and heart tugging. It was a premonition that I didn't see coming. Season takeaway: trust is important.

Season 9 - The season where most of the people were left unsatisfied. This whole freakin season revolved around Barney and Robin’s wedding. Yes, that was basically it. Jk. In this season they build up Barney and Robin’s love and then they give us the mother. It was great. Up until the last two episodes. The writers failed me. The love that they built up ended up with divorce. WTF ryt. Then the mother died. And that montage scene of her and Ted together, ugh I had nothing else to do but to let my tears flow. It was heartbreaking. Takeaway: things may not always go according to plan, life goes on and we move forward.

All in all. I was disappointed. The writers tried. And I salute them for trying and giving the audience a streched and realistic ending. Just like what I said before, It's not the destination, it's the journey. And still I love the show, all its plothole, all its bad side, all the inconsistencies, and all its flaws. I've learned a lot of lessons from it. The show has a lot of quotable life quotes. I discovered beautiful songs (the ost is superb). Discovered new shows. And it taught me how to appreciate life more. And for that I am so thankful. Here's a final quote, tho I'm still not fully confident with this:

"Because sometimes even if you know how something’s gonna end, that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride."

#How i met your mother #Personal review #Unsettled thoughts #Probably the worst ending #Words #Season break down #I tried #I can't get over

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omoghouls · 4 years

Note

in another drabble you wrote you said lizzie thought fe looked charming even as he wet himself. i know that's probably just her wanting to make her husband feel better but. what about her getting a little TOO interested in his seemingly constant accidents, if u catch my drift??

👀👀 oh nonny you have my mind haven't ya?

Because like, they're from a time where there has been a progression where folks dont just go outside so publicly anymore (at least, not in the villages or larger towns) so there has been a slight taboo that has become of such things, which, tends to make things more /interesting/ to some-

Namely, Lizzie because she grew up in better off than Felix had (but, when your Pa owns a company ofc you're going to be better off than like half of the population 😂) so there was an even more taboo to someone wetting themselves, because someones nice clothing shouldnt become dirtied, it's ungentlemanly/ladylike!

So, watching as her husband is just straight up having to resort to wetting his britches makes her a bit taken aback, not in a bad way, she loves her Thunderbird and watching as the dark patches drench his bottoms and puddles beneath him is,,,nice

Ofc she wouldnt be one to admit that so quickly, perhaps it was just a coincidence her heart fluttered a but faster, no need to let her mind wander. But, she does, oh boy does she, confused and questions running around. Eventually she just brushes it off, so silly of her to think she's interested in such.

That is, until the next time it happens.

They had gone to her parents home for the weekend and were heading on home via her parents carriage (as their buggy was in need of repairs). Felix was sitting with Lizze and the two made their small talk, recollecting the times enjoyed by the pair. The closer they got to the Valley the more she noticed just how fidgety Felix had become, she tries to act like she hasn't noticed and attempts to distract him in a way of helping him. Soon Felix is tapping his foot uncharacteristically with not set pattern, his thighs clenched together, he was trying so hard to act as if he didnt need to go- but she knows :^0

Lizzie clears her throat and moves towards the front, talking to the driver. Felix tilts his head but takes the moment alone-ish to hold himself. Then, the carriage stops and Lizzie opens the door, giving her thanks to the driver. Felix is down right confused, they were still at least 20 minutes away from home but, he scoots out and gives his thanks as well, trying hard to stand still as the carriage drives on back to the town.

It was not in ill-intent on Lizzie's end, rather, help in just an odd way. The isolated dirt road, no homesteads for at least another mile, Felix almost whines because holy shit he has to pee s o bad (he didnt want to be rude and refuse the tea Lizzie's mother had been offering before they had left). And that's when Lizzie finally fills the silent air, saying how she knew of his need, kinda bringing up the last time they had taken a buggy ride while Felix had to go, the bumpiness of the roads had sent him over the edge then, who was to say it wouldnt have happened again?

Felix is a bit confused but nods along, pressing his thighs together as she speaks. Then she drops the bomb, "So, if we were to walk the rest of the way and if something were to happen, no one is to know," she pauses, "and daddy would not find the mess in his favourite carriage"

Felix fuking buring in embarrassment at the thought of Lizzie knowing and the idea of wetting himself in the carriage, his saving grace yet again.

So they start their slow walk home. Barley even 4 minutes into the walk, Felix stops, letting out a gasping sound as his bladder protest this movement and holding, Lizzie is of course acting as if she's solely concerned and not also watching a bit more closely than she regularly has done in the past 😎 and she cant lie, she thinks the hips swaying motions and the way his knees buckle as his trembled voice speaks his urgency, all combined,,,she likes it.

But she also doesnt wanting him hurting himself!! So, she comes closer, lightly cupping his jaw and looks to him softly, saying how he should just let go, she know and he most certainly knows he isnt going to make it back to the homestead.

He of course doesn't want to stoop to such a level, but his opinions dwindled away to nothing an hour ago. So, all he had to do is remove the hand that had been tightly packed between his legs and the flood just pours out. He closes his eyes, shoulders shaking and chest heaving as his body gives in.

And Lizzie watches the whole thing unfold infront of her, surprised by just how much he had been holding and just how reactive he was during as well as after-

When he shamefully finishes, Lizzie just holds him close and pats his back in a reassuring manner, telling him she'll run him a bath when they are home. Felix just tearily smiles at her kindness

Inwardly, Lizzie thanks Felix for letting her intrest being confirmed 😎😎😎😎

#Omorashi #omocute #m

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probably-writing-x · 5 years

Text

Free Spirit. (1)

Shawn Mendes High School/College AU

Free Spirit: An independent, or uninhibited, person.

~~~

Noise. Surrounding every single space. Chasing cars down bumpy roads, all focused on the awaiting destinations of futile actions. The occasional shouts of unimportant irritation that would soon be forgotten about until the next inconvenience.

And, the best part of it all, it all felt a million miles away from you.

Here, the only importances lay in the train track beneath your feet that appeared to rust a little more with each step. And the only other, the company that you kept.

Beside you, a boy followed the exact same path across the metal. He placed one long footstep in front of the other as his elongated arms outstretched like a wingspan to keep his balance across the length. There were brown curls hanging a little lower as his maroon gaze solely focused on the muddy ground beneath him. His pink tongue stuck out a little with such intense focus and it highlighted the rosy warmth of his cheeks just a little more.

And then you. You had opted to match his stance, hands spread apart to let the feeling of night wind rush between your fingers. Your hair was flailing hopelessly against the breeze and the sleeves of the leather jacket covering your form was the only thing stopping you from really feeling the chill of the evening.

"Alright, another one," Your companion speaks up against the tranquility, "One last song. Not like to listen to forever. But like the last song you want to hear before it all ends,"

You glance to look at him and measure up your possibilities, flicking through a playlist in the thousands to try to magic up one that would fit perfectly.

"Saturday nights, Khalid," You comment, hopping down from the thin bar of outer rail to instead step against each rung of the track.

Shawn considers your decision and shrugs, "You don't want to go out with a bang?"

"That would just be in the final moments," You mention, "Like that defying moment where we all know I'm dying but like, holy shit, everyone realises they're losing a hero,"

"Is that so?" He scoffs, wobbling a little as he loses balance in his step.

"And you, my dear," You jump at his back and let him catch your legs in a piggyback, "Realise that you're losing the best thing you've ever had,"

"Well then I better make the most of it," He replies, tightening his grip on your thighs as he starts to run the length of the abandoned train track, knowing there was no finish line to this race.

You laugh against the blood coursing through your ear drums and hold your arms around his neck loosely, letting yourself feel that tiny fear that you'd fall... Maybe, just maybe, you'd fall.

"What would be yours?" You ask as Shawn settles his pace a little, never once letting his hands loosen around your legs.

"Can't tell you, it will ruin the moment when it actually happens," Your best friend shrugs, your arms moving up and down simultaneously with the movement.

"How does that work?" You laugh, "So I don't get to know?"

"Nope," Shawn comments, lowering you down to the ground, "But you'll know when you hear it,"

"And how will I know that?" You question.

Shawn moves to lower himself down onto the track, slowly laying down against the aging material, "Dunno, you just will,"

You watch him intently and, eventually, copy his actions to lay on the track adjacent to his.

In silence, the two of you remain in each other's company. You hold onto the natural bliss surrounding this derelict setting and breathe in the untouched air that cascaded through your lungs.

"Off the track!" A deep bellow rumbles through your peace and a flashlight stains the darkness of your still shadows, "Get up!"

Shawn pokes one eye open and turns his head to look at you.

"Get up!" The security guard persists, "What are your names?"

You bite your bottom lip, shifting your hand until it laced with Shawn's.

"Names!" The middle aged man encourages, now standing beside you as his flashlight flickers over both of your faces.

"Us?" Shawn sits up, face echoing all possible innocences.

"Oh," You look puzzled, standing up and tugging Shawn up to meet you, "We're Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, sir,"

And, with that, you drag Shawn's hand away from the officer, sprinting down the endless track like it was on fire beneath your feet.

"Bonnie and fucking Clyde?!" You hear him screech furiously behind you, flashlight trailing over your escaping forms for as long as possible.

~~~

"Bonnie and Clyde?" The file slaps against the desk like an added plosive to the exclamation, "Really original guys,"

"Glad you appreciated that one sir," You retort to his sarcasm, sitting slumped in the office chair.

Mr Kingston glares at the two of you with fueled eyes, "This isn't funny. It's every single week I'm getting something about you too,"

"Care to enlighten us once again? I seem to be a bit fuzzy about those details," Shawn smirks, glancing at you with a side eye.

"Let's go through them, shall we?" Mr Kingston suggests, picking up the file once again and opening it to the middle, "Spotted re-enacting Titanic on a privately owned boat, caught impersonating businesspeople at private exhibitions, found atop the roof of a cinema attempting to re-create the move from Dirty Dancing," He slams the file shut, "Shall I go on?"

"Ooh what about the one with the store?" You comment, trying to hide your unmistakable amusement at the situation.

"Where you hid amongst the shelves until the security forced you to leave?" Mr Kingston exclaims with all tones of no hope.

"That was her idea," Shawn is quick to interject, "I said we should hide by the toilet paper and she forced us to hide where the home stuff was,"

"The home section was comfier and you-" You begin to retort before you are quickly cut off.

"Guys!" Your teacher exclaims, "I don't care about that! You two are going to be the death of me at this rate, you're getting called into the office every second day for me to complain about something you've said or done. I'm losing my mind trying to keep up with you. Can't you just give me a break from this?"

"Sir," Shawn stands up, walking around to the back of your chair and clasping your shoulders, "The way I see it - us doing all of this is having no effect on you. It's you. You're the one that chooses to yell at us about it, increasing your stress and, consequently, blood pressure and eventually yo-"

"I don't need another speech from you Mendes," Mr Kingston snaps, "You're dismissed,"

Shawn laughs and you go to follow him out of the door.

"Not you, (Y/l/n). Sit back down,"

You glance at Shawn and notice the full confusion on his face - so he hadn't set you up.

"I'll wait for you outside," He nods supportively before stepping into the corridor outside of the all too familiar office to do exactly as he had promised.

You turn back to Mr Kingston and sit back down into the seat that had practically been labelled with your name by this point. You glance around and take in the sight of the views you'd seen far too many times. Your tutor still has a photo of his three dogs plastered proudly on the back wall of his office - Two boxers and, your personal favourite, a labradoodle. There was a scattering of dust covered trophies behind his desk but he never paid much attention to them. The paint was wearing across the aging walls and there were still a few patches in the corner where he'd tried out a few new colours and never got round to actually decorating.

"(Y/n)," He sighs and snaps you back to focus on him, "What are you doing?"

You shrug nonchalantly, "Sitting in your office,"

He rolls his eyes, "I'm being serious now, I need you to take me seriously for at least once in your life,"

Mr Kingston was a middle aged man who got a little puffed out from walking up one flight of stairs and sometimes looked a little too red in the face to be good for his health. He was like a giant teddy bear that got furious with you for the slightest step out of line. And, in some ways, he'd become like a father figure to you since starting at this school until now, getting ready to leave.

"You're not applying to college," He comments, "What happened to Yale?"

"Nothing happened to Yale. I just don't want to be there anymore," You mutter, "I wouldn't fit in there,"

"I don't give a damn if you'd fit in or not. We're talking about your future here!" He says, leaning forward in his chair, "And I don't think that's the reason you're not applying,"

You stay silent then, picking at a loose thread from the armrest of the chair and focusing all of your attention onto it's small movements.

"He's a bad influence for you (Y/n). And you know he is," That next sentence makes your heart beat a little faster, "You've been skipping school, all of your teachers think you've completely lost yourself. You're still getting the grades but I don't know how. He's making you do things that aren't like the (Y/n) we all know,"

You stand up from the chair then, taking one breath to calm yourself just enough, "I appreciate your input but I'm going to leave now, please,"

"(Y/n) he's going to ruin your life if you let him,"

Your hand pauses for a split second on the doorknob before you follow your second instinct to open it and leave the tense office.

Shawn is, as promised, waiting right outside for you, "All good?"

You take your bag from him and sling it over one shoulder, "Yeah, yeah, what class are you in?"

"Calc," He groans, "But it's fine, I'll walk you to chemistry,"

You nod and stuff your hands into the pockets of your denim jacket.

The corridors are thankfully empty as you're certain that you and Shawn were destined to avoid people as much as possible. The two of you had been friends for the past year at school - your senior year. He'd moved here from another school and they chose you to be his buddy. Ever since then, you'd taken that 'buddy' status to another level. He let you see the world as he did - as though there was nothing stopping you. He'd opened your eyes to a world outside of academia and he'd been the one person to make you feel truly comfortable in yourself. Things may have changed since he came around but they had changed for the better.

"So, what did Kingston want to talk to you about?" He breaks your train of thought once again and runs a hand through husis untameable curls.

"He uh-" You clear your throat, "Just about my parents. He thinks I should start seeing the therapist,"

Okay. That was technically a lie. That wasn't what he'd just said to you. But he had mentioned it only days before so, technically, your tracks were covered.

"You want to do it?" Shawn looks at you intently, always being one to pay full attention when somebody spoke.

You shrug, "Sit there and listen to someone belittle me about my 'struggles'?" You scoff, "It sounds like a wonderful pastime,"

Your friend shakes his head and lets out the softest possible laugh, shifting to nudge you with his shoulder - the force making you stumble a little.

"Alright, this is me," You mention as your chemistry lab nears.

"Okay, I'll meet you after school at t-"

"The fountain out back," You finish for him, "I know, it's a Tuesday,"

Shawn laughs and watches as you head into the class, eyes lingering on your disappearing form for a little longer before he forces himself to turn away.

He wasn't sure of exactly what he'd done right to get someone like you into his life. But he'd count it as a blessing everyday. Right up until the day he knew it was time to leave.

~~~~~~~~

(Thoughts????)

Tags : @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @spiderrpcrker @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker @xxtomxo @httpfandxms

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malereader-inserts · 5 years

Text

In the Hands of Comfort

Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Lodges & Son!Reader Summary: This is the start of something new, something healthier and something worth holding onto Word Count: 1,457 A/n: hey, here’s part two of “In the Face of Evil” read here to read that! Some soft healthy family interactions.

It was two weeks since you were targeted.

You were finally out of the hospital, the car journey was quiet. You were still in pain, some of your muscle ached as you leaned against the door, your head leaning against the window. Watching how Riverdale remain insane. Hermione was the one to come pick you up as Andre drove the car.

Hermione looked away from the window and stared at her son, so fragile and so scared. She hated to think that you were dwelling on the words that were permanently branded on your skin. She turned away to look outside the window, Hiram had been angry for the last two weeks.

Whilst, you were treated at the hospital - you barely interacted with the family. Veronica mostly talked, catching you up in school work you missed and reading to you. Hiram was angry at who targeted you, a man who was planning revenge, he plans far worst than prison time for Manfred Muggs.

Hiram spent most of his days, if he wasn’t by your side in the hospital room, sat in his office chair. Nursing coffee or a glass of whiskey, notes untouched as he stares at the smiling picture of you and Veronica on the table. Hiram wanted some sort of justice, he knew that Muggs was not the Gargoyle King.

He scrapped the plan of working with the King, once his child was hurt there was no deal. Just so unfortunate that he had to learn the hard way.

Veronica was getting angsty, you were the talk of the school. Jughead and Reggie were quick to shut everyone about it. Reggie not wanting to see his girl upset about her brother and Jughead did it because you were always nice to him, plus Veronica offered money to have Serpents protect her and her brother.

She counted days when you return home, so she can do her favourite thing when she was with her brother. To grab blankets and watch movies all day.

You hadn’t noticed that Andre parked the car in front of the Pembrooke until you felt your mother rubbed your knee.

“We’re home, mijo,” It was soft, you nodded with tired eyes as you see the door open.

You step out the car, pulling the jacket closer, as the coldness dance upon your injuries. You slowly made your way inside with Hermione quick to follow you into the elevator as the ascend was quiet before your mother broke it.

“Do you want to sleep? Your father has made sure to keep you out of school just for a bit, to make sure-”

“I’m hungry,” You interrupted, loosening the grip of your jacket.

“Of course, you’re probably sick of the hospital food, we’ll get something nutritious in you.”

The elevator doors slide open as you stumble your way to the door, slamming it open. You grimace at the loud noise you were making, causing Hiram to look up from his papers at your entrance and Veronica to stop her writing in her room.

“Oh,” You softly hummed as Hermione chuckled, rubbing your shoulders, “I need to lie down.”

“Okay, what food would you like?” She asked as she helped you shrug off your jacket without causing too much pain.

You kick out of your shoes, curling your toes to the rug, taking the scent of home.

“Paella sounds good right now,” You replied, “Homemade.”

You walked away to the living room, missing the look of your mother’s face when you wanted her food. Nevertheless, she wasn’t too busy at the moment and you’ve been avoiding the hospital food so she had to get real food in you. Making her way to the kitchen, she chuckles seeing her son curled up on the sofa, trying to reach for the remote of the television.

Reaching the kitchen, Hermione rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands, her mind set in making lunch. Hiram had exited his office as Veronica exited her room, surprised to find Hermione in the kitchen.

“You’re cooking?” Veronica asked, “Don’t we have people who do that for us?”

“Your brother requested homemade Paella, and he knows when it’s not homemade.”

“I can hear you!” You shouted, then came after a soft ow. Hiram chuckled as Veronica eagerly volunteered to help her mother as Hiram made his way to the living room, luckily he had ditched the walking stick.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out, carefully as you poked your head out of the blanket.

He smiles as he makes his way to you, perching himself on the armrest as he pats down the flyaway hairs. You blinked before smiling at him, home to you made you feel more relaxed. You weren’t constantly tense in the hospital as if you were going to get murdered.

“Just checking to see how you’re doing,” He murmured, rubbing his thumb against your dark hair, “You seem to be more relaxed, it’s good to see.”

You hummed, slowly sitting up with the help of your father, “Just a bit uneasy, to say the least,” You confessed, leaning your head against your dad’s side.

He hadn’t seen much of this side of you, yes you were a tad more sensitive and a tad softer than you sister but physical contact was something you couldn’t handle, so you being affectionate all of a sudden was new to Hiram, and that you were talking about yourself was new.

You hated attention to yourself, preferred to sweep it under the rug for your sister to find it and relish in it. You hated talking about yourself, your problems and anything that concern you. Whilst, you grew up in a family that was loving, opening up was awkward and it was an issue that the family struggled with.

“Truth be told, I’m terrified,” Hiram looked down at you, your lips thinned as you heaved out a sigh, “You have a lot of enemies, dad, and you know that I am a target of revenge.”

“They’d be stupid to even attempt to harm you or your sister,” Hiram responded his arm over your shoulders, squeezing you lightly, nothing to inflict pain to you. You stared at him as he sighed, there was a hesitant, “I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

“What-?”

“I owe you an apology for not being the greatest father in the world, but most importantly putting you in harm's way. I would do anything just to keep you and your sister happy.”

You looked at him, then turn to see your mother and Veronica standing at the doorway. The first time you would notice the delicious smell of food, making your stomach grumble to be fed.

You looked at your dad once more before shamefully handing your head, “I just want us to be a family, for once,” You looked up at him again, “And I know I can’t ask you just to stop your scheming because I know I can’t but I want to be family again.”

“Nothing can be the same,” Hermione had to tell you, you bit your lip.

“I know, mom, but sometimes I could use a hug from my dad or my mom. Sometimes I can count on my parents to attend one of my sporting events or whatever. You know, act a normal family once, movie nights and game nights, I know it’s asking a bit too much, but I think we can all use the distraction.”

“I agree,” Veronica nodded, coming behind you and wrapping her arms around you and hugged you from behind, leaning her chin on your shoulders.

“If that’s what you want then we can at least try, all of us.” Hermione nodded, strolling her way to you and embracing her children.

Hiram looked at his family, realising what he would be throwing away. Two beautiful women with power, both headstrong and confident. His son, the man who would take his place in the business but most importantly the glue in the family. You looked up at him and Hiram just wanted to be back to the time he had a normal life, his kids annoying him but being his proudest achievement.

He gathers in the embrace, “Family it is.”

You chuckled as you felt your family squeeze closer to you. Sure, the road was bumpy, full of potholes and the road ahead was certainly not a straight path to the goal. But, if everyone worked as hard as each other, you could somehow salvage the broken pieces of the dysfunctional family.

Just as you were about to get comfy, you looked at your mother.

“I’m still hungry.”

Veronica laughs shaking her head, muttering how boys are never satisfied with the amount of food they’ve consumed.

“Of course you are, come, Paella is ready.”

#lodge x reader #lodge x male reader #x male reader #riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale x male reader

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you-andthebottlemen · 5 years

Text

49 - Requests - fighting with Van, making up, cute date fluff.

Hi everyone!! So, recently I received the first requests I’ve gotten since I announced I was no longer taking any. And after thinking about, I decided to try my hand at writing them. After being pretty absent so long, I am unsure how good the writing is but I enjoyed getting back into it. The last few fics I have posted randomly have been originals. Anyway. Here is a fic based on the first two requests below which are the recent ones and then the third request which has sat in my inbox for well over a year. I am really sorry to whoever requested this and the other requests that still sit in my inbox since I said I was no longer answering them... But thank you for your support and compliments, it really means a lot to me and encourages me to keep trying. I hope you enjoy this, especially those who requested! Please send me any feedback, it’d be so helpful haha. Love youuuuu. E x.

I love this page so much!! Could you please do an angst fix where you’re on tour with the lads and you and van argue backstage and he’s getting angry but sees you cry for the first time and you make up lots of fluff please! Xx

Hey I love your fanfics and imagines!! Could you do one based on where you and van get into an argument but then obviously make up afterwards. I just need some real cute fluff. Thank you!!! ❤

could you do something where the reader is into astronomy/stargazing, and she and van go out on a stargazing sort of date? i'm picturing lots of blankets and hot chocolate out far from the city.. p.s. you are an amazing writer ❤

*************************************************************************

The road was bumpy, and you could feel your lunch from earlier that day, a gas station hot dog, swirling unpleasantly in the pit of your stomach. On top of this, you felt pretty down. Regardless, you stared out the window at the bleak countryside as if you were fine. Drops of rain began falling from the grey sky around you and landed in spats on the glass as if they were the tears you wouldn’t let fall. If you were a character in a novel, this would be called ‘pathetic fallacy’ - a literary device for when your emotions were attributed to the nature surrounding you. You were a couple of weeks into the tour by now and it wasn’t all Van had cracked it up to be.

The shows were incredible, yeah. But apart from that, there was a hell of a lot of chaos, a lack of proper hygiene, not to mention the lack of nutritious food, and you were incredibly homesick. Van always dreamed big; it was one of your favourite things about him. But in this instance, his idealisation of the rockstar life style was starting to put a crack in your relationship. You were growing tired of his show pony attitude whenever he did an interview. You were tired of his flirtations with other women, however harmless, and once charming, they were. You were tired of being called ‘Van’s Girlfriend’, rather than your name, y/n. You missed having your own space and privacy. It was getting overwhelming being in Van and the other boys faces all the time; everyone was getting antsy. You were sick of touring, plain and simple. The stressed it put you through caused you to take it out on Van and that only made things worse.

You’d first met Van while he was on his last tour a few months ago. It had made sense at the time, in the weeks leading up to this one, for you to join him rather than spend the weeks alone. You were a bartender at a small place they’d stopped to celebrate after a show once and from the second Van laid eyes on you, he was determined to make you his. And he did, easily. He was so loveable. It was kind of ridiculous how easy it was to love him, flaws and all. Though the cracks were starting to appear. Small ones but cracks, nonetheless. Everything was different. Your routines were now non-existent. You felt isolated and at the same time completely suffocated. It was not a good environment for your mental health. You couldn’t help but harbour some resentment towards Van for letting things get this way between you and him. For being so swept up in himself, the band and the fans. It was overwhelming and you had no escape. The only times you had peace and quiet was if you decided to stay alone on the bus during a show or sound check. Though at the same time you could hardly blame him at all because you knew how he loved it and what it meant to him. None of this was his fault, really.

“You alright y/n?” Larry asked, sliding into the seat opposite you and placing your mug, freshly filled with tea, on the table between you.

Van was asleep out the back of the bus.

“Thank you. Yeah, I’m good. Regretting that hot dog though,” you joked, trying to hide your sour mood.

“I think we all are,” Larry laughed, adjusting his bandana.

The stench of the small bus toilet was proof enough. You felt queasy just thinking about it. You gazed back out the window and sighed softly. Only 3 more weeks.

................

When Van wasn’t preoccupied with press or whatever, he was often busy making plans and doing things for the second album. You just left him to it. You didn’t want him to think you were getting in the way. Though you were desperate for some down time with him away from the bus or a venue. A date. Something. Something that wasn’t just falling asleep together, eating cold baked beans for breakfast with the band or getting drunk after a show. While at the start tour was all a bit dreamlike and still had its charm, now you yearned for normality. You missed your friends too; facetime wasn’t doing it for you anymore. You ached a bit for Van, realising this was how tour must make him feel too when he has to leave people behind. It was more difficult than it seemed and you weren’t even the one performing every night.

“Sold out tonight, babe!” Van exclaimed with a grin as he stepped through the small door from the middle section of the bus and sat on the lounge beside you.

You put your book down. You could tell he was excited; his eyes were glistening madly and his voice was all high and squeaky. His hair was a mess so you ran a hand through it to straighten things out a little. He really did make your heart weak.

“That’s great,” you smiled back.

You wanted desperately to be as happy as he was. You were really, but it was clouded with other emotions that weighed you down too much to let the good stuff come to the surface. You traced his face with your eyes. His smile was so wide he almost had dimples and you could make out those strange little red marks that appeared on his cheeks sometimes. You let out a breath.

“Reckon after this second album we’ll be well on our way to arenas!”

You hoped he’d never lose his boyish optimism.

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning your body against his warm shoulder slowly. “Hot tub for your ma.”

You now rested your head on his shoulder, wanting to be close to him. His worn leather jacket smelt of smoke, but you didn’t mind. You looked up at him with tired eyes.

“You know it.” He grinned, showing his crooked teeth in all their glory and then kissed you on the hairline.

“I’m off for a smoke then got an interview at 3, do you wanna come?”

“To the interview?” you asked, lifting your head.

“Yeah.”

“No it’s okay. I’ve seen you do them before,” you replied bluntly.

You regretted your tone instantly. You could almost feel Van’s face fall and his body language stiffen. He was confused at your sudden change of mood and the air between you became tense.

“Oh… well just thought we could spend some time together.”

This made you want to scoff. Time together?

“You, me, the band, the interviewer and the camera man isn’t exactly spending quality time alone together is it...” you replied, covering your sarcasm with a jokey tone and raised eyebrow, trying to come off a little more light hearted than you felt.

You sat up to face Van properly and teased him with a lopsided, toothless smile.

“No, you’re right love. We’ll go on a proper date. You and me. Dinner out before the show?”

“No beans on toast?”

“No beans on toast.”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled.

Your heart filled with a warmth you’d been missing and you leaned in for a quick kiss, closing your eyes. You and Van stayed together with your faces close for a few seconds, foreheads resting together, before he got up without a word and left once again. This felt good. Normal.

You sighed. At least you had that to look forward to.

..............

While Van was at his interview, you used all the facilities that the bus and the public bathrooms at the venue had to offer in attempt to get ready for your date with Van. It had been so long since you’d pampered yourself in any way or gotten especially dressed up. When Van told you about touring, you knew it wouldn’t be glamorous, but you’d expected to be getting dressed in nice clothes a lot more often than you ever did. It was definitely ‘boy’ territory and you were the odd one out.

As you got ready, you thought how you’d probably not event spent an intimate moment with Van all tour without either everyone knowing and clearing the bus or accidentally walking in on it. You were well and truly over the teasing winks or the awkward smiles from band and crew alike. Yet another reason you yearned for the privacy of your own home.

You managed to shave your legs in the tiny cubicle shower on the bus, painted your nails and styled your hair. You put on the one dress you’d packed and some slightly nicer shoes than your muddy black boots. Once you were satisfied with how you looked, you sprayed perfume and relished in the feeling of being decently clean and presentable for the first time in a while.

You were sat reading your book in the lounge out the back of the bus (that had become yours and Van’s bedroom) when he burst through the door.

“Wow, y/n...” he breathed, sounding slightly taken aback, “you look incredible.”

You couldn’t help but blush a little as you stood up.

“Ready to go?”

Van looked at the floor and ran a hand through his hair nervously. You swallowed.

“Uh... about that y/n... I was just coming in to tell you that...”

Your heart sank like a stone in water.

“This label guy is coming to the show and wants to talk beforehand and-”

He took a step towards to you and you put a hand on his chest to stop him coming any closer.

“It’s fine,” you smiled, showing teeth. “I understand. Go.”

Your voice came out higher pitched and breathier than usual. You were pissed off and didn’t want him to know. You ushered him away with shoeing hand gestures and a tight, forced smile.

“I’m sorry y/n.”

“Just go. Don’t keep him waiting.”

And with that, you saw the back of Van’s messy brunette head turn away and exit just as quickly as he entered. You sat back down with a groan. You wanted to let go and cry into your hands. Part of you wished you’d told him how disappointed you were rather than letting him believe you were completely fine. But how could you? This was potentially, a big moment for him and the band.

You were all dressed up with nowhere to go it seemed. Though instead of melting into a puddle of tears and self-pity, you decided to do something completely out of character. You were going to go out and find your own fun, one way or another. You picked up your heavy heart and left the bus, off into the night.

………….

After a short walk past the venue and line of fans already gathered, you found a pub, or bar. Something. This would do, you thought. You walked inside more confidently than you felt and went straight to the bar. You ordered a martini with an olive and immediately felt like you’d slipped into the skin of a woman far more extravagant and fancier than yourself. You liked this newfound, make believe confidence you suddenly had.

You sat alone at the bar with your drink, happily day dreaming and letting the alcohol buzz sooth your brain. You occasionally drifted into earshot of other people’s conversations and couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You loved people watching too. The worries you had about Van slipped into the back of your mind and this felt good.

“Can I buy you another?” a deep voice suddenly asked from behind you.

You turned around slowly and saw a man with intense eyes staring back at you. He had a dark goatee and you could see the glimmer of what was probably a gold tooth, between his lips as he smiled.

“I’m fine thank you,” you replied.

“A lady as beautiful as yourself shouldn’t be alone,” he responded, his voice slightly gravelly.

He sat in the seat beside you and you gulped. He made eye contact with the waiter and pointed at your glass. You were promptly brought a new one and you hesitated to touch it.

“Go on, won’t hurt,” the man pushed. “My treat.”

“T-thank you.”

You awkwardly smiled and the man held his drink to yours. You wanted to escape before he got the wrong idea.

“Bottoms up,” he said as he took a swig of his pint.

You took a small, cautious sip of the new martini.

“I’m Dave, what’s your name sweetheart?”

You didn’t really want to give him your real name and you didn’t like being called sweetheart by anyone other than Van. You wanted to be the posh lady you pretended you were earlier. She would have taken the drink gladly and walked away by now.

“Y/n,” you stammered.

“So, what are you doing here all by yourself then y/n?”

Dave turned to face you.

“Uh- sorry, I uh have a boyfriend he-”

“As do I love,” he laughed, his slightly wrinkled face creasing into a friendly grin.

Your lungs instantly let go of the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Dave was just a kind stranger, not a creep. Phew.

“Oh,” you replied.

“Sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to give you a wrong impression or nothing!” Dave apologised.

“Oh no it’s okay. Just gotta be careful, you know.”

He nodded.

“So where is your boyfriend tonight then Dave?” you giggled and turned to face him.

“Some meeting or something,” he shrugged and took another gulp of beer.

“Mine too,” you replied, looking down.

It was probably the alcohol, but you began to feel all sulky and sad again. You missed Van; your Van. The Van who left muddy boots and a smoke-stained leather jacket by your door, who would serenade you while making you tea of a morning before you left for work, who made you watch Big Fish one hundred times.

“Oi now love don’t go getting sad. Let’s get you another drink and have a good time.”

Soon enough you were floating on a martini cloud. There was music playing and you were dancing with Dave and a few ladies out on a hen’s night. This was the most fun you’d had in ages. You spun around and let your hair down. Literally and metaphorically.

“Marriage! That’s a big deal!” you half shouted over the music, while dancing with the bride to be.

“Yeah! He’s the one!” she replied with a lovesick smile.

“I think I’ve met the one,” you drunkenly slurred, more to yourself than her.

You both kept grooving to the music as if you were in a nightclub, not a pub with an open floor and some cheap blue disco lights.

“Yeah? Where is he?”

She was the second person to ask that tonight and it hurt. He should be there with you, drinking and dancing on tables.

“He’s in a band!” you yelled. “Got a show tonight so he’s at the venue. Bailed on our date though.”

“So that idiot let you go out alone?” she replied, her face shell shocked. “You could get anyone you wanted! Find better!”

“Yeah, it feels like it’s either me or the band,” you admitted loudly. “And I’m not even close second at the moment.”

She obviously had no idea what you meant or was too drunk to hear you as she just smiled, took a sip of her drink and danced away. At that moment, you felt a hand on your arm and you turned around.

“This idiot, has been lookin’ all over for you.”

Van was stood still, his face straight. This told you that you were in trouble. You were unsure how much he’d heard but were too drunk to care.

“I’m not a child,” you responded simply.

“I was worried y/n.”

You rolled your eyes. Van handed you his jacket, which you refused to put on, and ushered you outside. You turned to wave a final goodbye to Dave, but he seemed to be preoccupied, presumably by his returned boyfriend. Though he looked a lot happier to see him than Van did you.

You walked next to Van and the others who had been waiting outside, with your arms crossed and face stern. That’s what you get for having a good time, you supposed.

“I’d got out the meeting early, wanted to still take you to that dinner I’d promised,” Van said, sounding frustrated.

“Why am I in trouble?” you asked angrily.

He clearly didn’t realise how drunk you were.

“Babe, you’re not in trouble. I just didn’t know where you went and-”

“Oh, what so because you’re off doing special band, no girlfriends allowed business, I have to wait back on the bus bored stiff like some 1950’s housewife?”

“What?” Van questioned, his voice confused and short.

He stopped walking and faced you. His expression was contorted into that confused but not the cute kind of confused look. He motioned for Larry and Benji to keep walking without you.

“You know exactly what I mean!”

“I don’t have time for this y/n. I have to soundcheck. I’ll see you in the green room yeah?”

He leaned in to kiss you on the forehead as if that would wash away any problem you had. You you swatted him away. He looked hurt but turned and walked off regardless. You wobbled on your feet and sighed. You were annoyed that he’d turned it into your fault; that you were in the wrong for going out after he cancelled your plans only to come back trying to reinstate them as if you’d just sit there waiting for him. But you felt like all you ever did was wait for him to be finished with whatever band thing he was doing, so how could you blame him when that was what he’d come to know?

“Yeah, gotta get back to the boys,” you muttered to yourself, watching Van’s blurry figure disappear from you once again.

........

Crew members filed in, pushing or dragging heavy black equipment boxes, others conducted soundcheck with the boys breezing in and out. You made your way through the chaos to the green room, feeling pretty invisible. You’d changed out of your dress and traded it for jeans and a hoodie. Your heart felt heavy once again and you weren’t feeling those martinis as strongly anymore. You grabbed one of the bottles of wine meant for the band, knowing they wouldn’t touch it before the show anyway, and drowned your sorrows a little.

You ignored the world around you as best you could. You hated sitting there with the weird, half-argument between you and Van hanging in the air. You didn’t know if he’d heard what you said. You regretted saying it in the first place.

“Save some for us y/n!” Bondy joked as he sauntered in and sat beside you, playing with his lighter.

You laughed, but not because what he said was funny. It was a spiteful laugh if anything. Bondy was blissfully unaware of what was going on. Or what your drunken, angry brain had convinced you was going on. Deep down you knew this was an unnecessary fight.

Van came into the green room and silently sat on your other side, placing a warm hand on your thigh and leant over to kiss you. You quickly moved your face again and he just managed to graze your cheek instead. Out the corner of your eye you saw his eyebrows furrow in confusion and his forehead crease a little. It was your own fault he didn’t understand your mood; you’d allowed him to think everything was fine and peachy for days.

“What’s goin’ on y/n?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing,” you replied, teeth clenched, and eyes averted from Van’s gaze.

He clicked his tongue to his teeth and let out a breath. You gripped the wine bottle tightly in your fist and took another swig.

“Okay that’s enough of that...”

Van took the bottle from your hands and placed it down on the coffee table. This only outraged you more, but you knew better than to fight him about that too right now.

“Why’re you being like this? Why’d you go out on your own earlier too? Just to get drunk with a bunch of strangers?”

Van’s tone was frustrated and strained, you knew he didn’t understand any of this at all. To be honest, you didn’t really either and didn’t know what to say or how to put your feelings into words. Especially right now.

“Like I said before, you expect me to drop everything, sit around and wait for you to finish with the band.”

“You didn’t have to come on tour y/n.”

“No- I mean, like...”

“Save it y/n, I heard you before. You think I don’t care, that it’s only about the band.”

Van’s voice was low and sounded hurt. You knew you were being a little unfair and it made you ache seeing his face contort with frustration towards you.

“How could you think that?” he questioned.

You didn’t answer and he shook his head slightly.

“I didn’t mean what I said, it just came out,” you defended quickly. “I was excited to go out tonight. Do something with just you, something that was more us. I feel insignificant here.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“How could I Van?” you exclaimed.

Your eyes burned and you could feel the tears threatening to fall.

“Christ y/n, if you aren’t happy with me, you should tell me.”

Van had stood up now and he sounded angry. Proper mad at you. This alone felt like a tonne of bricks crashing down onto your chest. It was unlike him to jump to the extreme like this and question the whole relationship. You glanced around the room, embarrassed to see all the guys still in there. You quickly grabbed your bag and ran past Van and out the door into the hallway.

“Y/n!” you heard him shout behind you.

You kept walking. The tears were streaming down your cheeks now and you didn’t want him to see. You didn’t want him to think you were weak or pathetic or not strong enough to handle his lifestyle. You thought you were, but maybe you weren’t after all if you’d gotten to this point. Lately, all you’d felt was distance from Van, despite being right there with him on tour.

When Van finally caught up with you, he grabbed your elbow like he did earlier in the pub and spun you around to face him. You wiped your cheeks and looked at the ground.

When he saw that you were crying, his angry expression melted away.

“Y/n...” he said softly. “What did you mean ‘how could you’?”

“How can I tell you I’m not happy or want more time with you when it’s either me or the band...I know how much the band means to you and I’d never make you sacrifice that. What if we had gone out earlier after all and you’d missed that meeting. What if it had been a meeting that changed your career and I made you lose that opportunity? I couldn’t do that to you.”

You were ranting now, and pretty sure you weren’t even making sense. But Van was quiet and listened. You continued, letting it all just drunkenly spill out.

“I feel like here, I’m either in the background of everything or I feel suffocated and need a break. It’s overwhelming. That’s why I went out. I didn’t want to just be the girl who pathetically sits around waiting for you all the time. I wanted to have fun, be independent,” you admitted with a small shrug. “I almost feel it would have been easier if I’d stayed home while you went off. That way, I wouldn’t feel like I’m just an extra piece of baggage.”

“You’re not an extra bit of baggage y/n,” Van replied quietly.

Your perspective had probably only just dawned on him. You knew he hadn’t meant for things to go this way on purpose. He was just oblivious. You looked up. Van reached out and wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose me or the band.”

“I don’t. But this whole thing, it’s never gonna be easy,” Van admitted with a sigh.

You nodded in sad agreement.

“I’m sorry y/n. I get swept up in everything an’ I have a bad attention span. I’m no good at multitasking. But it’s no excuse. I should be looking after ya’ more and thinking about how you see things.”

You sniffled and felt stupid.

“I’m sorry too, Van. For all of this.”

Your bodies moved closer and soon Van had his long arms wrapped tightly around you. With your face buried in his chest, you let out more drunken sobs. Relief. He held you close and stroked your back slowly.

“I’ve never seen you cry before,” he said quietly into your hair.

You let out a small laugh.

“Yeah...”

Van pulled away from you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Tell me when you feel crap next time yeah? Call me out on my shit. I need that sometimes y/n,” Van chuckled.

He said this looking right into your eyes so you knew he was serious.

You nodded and sniffled your runny nose.

“Go get back to soundcheck, rockstar,” you smiled.

Van winked, took you by the hand and led you back to the green room.

..........

You were back on the bus again traveling to a new city, but this time you knew better than to have a gas station meal. As usual, you were sat up with a book in hand under the lamp as it was getting dark outside.

Suddenly the bus slowed and pulled over. You looked up from your pages in confusion. Then Van appeared from the back with a small smile, holding blankets and two enormous bags. Your eyebrows raised in question.

“Go get your boots y/n. We’re going on a date.”

Once you’d gotten your boots and a warm coat on, you followed Van out of the bus and up the road. You were confused and excited. What was he doing?

“Where are we going?”

“Shh y/n you’ll see.”

Van’s cheeky and smug grin made your heart fluttered with excitement.

Soon enough, you were walking through a large field. You were unsure if you were allowed to be in there. Probably not, knowing Van. But you followed willingly anyway. He looked like he was swaying under the weight of all he was carrying but wouldn’t let you help him, insisting on being a gentleman.

Eventually, Van stopped, He threw down the bags on a patch of grass and spread out some of the blankets before sitting down cross legged. You wondered if he had this particular spot in mind or had just walked confidently until he found somewhere of his liking? He patted the space on the blanket to his left, inviting you to sit beside him. Once you did, he opened one of the bags and pulled out a thermos.

“Hot chocolate?”

“I’d love one.”

You were grinning from ear to ear. Even in the dark, Van’s eyes were shining bright and he looked sort of angelic under the glowing moonlight. A hyperactive, scruffy angel. But angelic nonetheless.

“So, y/n, I thought since you love all that space and stars stuff, we could come out here and look at it an’ that.”

“Astronomy?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “We can do some stargazin’.”

Your heart melted even more if that were possible; this was perfect. Van poured you a cup of hot chocolate from the thermos. Holding it in your hands warmed you up and made you feel cosy. He really did listen to you and know you. As much as you’d felt ignored lately. He’d remembered your interest in astronomy, something you’d really not mentioned all that much as you knew he wasn’t into it.

As you sat there cuddled under blankets and drinking hot chocolate on a constant loop, you told him all about your favourite constellations, pointing out the direction they’d be in. You even managed to see one in the sky as it was so clear in the deep navy blue. Being away from a main city really made such a difference when you were trying to look at the stars. Less pollution and a lack of bright city lights made everything so much more visible. It was incredible.

You held Van’s hand tightly in yours.

“Thank you for this Van,” you smiled as you rested your head down on his shoulder.

“You’re most welcome y/n. I should do this stuff for you more.”

He leaned down and kissed you on the head. You told him about stars and how they were so incredibly far away that the light you could see, was a star that was already dead. You weren’t sure he understood everything you said but he listened intently and was in complete awe of you. You liked showing him this little insight to your world, the same way he did with his music. As the time went by and the night grew colder, Van piled more blankets over you. You were amazed at how many he’d managed to find and how they fit in the bags he’d brought.

“Where’d you get all these spare blankets?” you asked as he tucked another one over your laps.

“Spare?” he questioned with a smirk. “Stole ‘em off the lad’s beds, didn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed at him. Typical Van. The two of you shared a long kiss that was only broken by breath and smiling laughter into the other’s mouths. You were giddy in love this night was the perfect end to a crap couple of weeks and hopefully, the start of a wonderful next few to come.

#van #van mccann #vanfic #van fic #catb #catfish #catfish and the bottlemen #larry lau #bondy #johnny bond #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #van mccann fanfiction

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thefactsofthematter · 5 years

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Hello! Could you do "I love you" prompts 6 ("On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair") and 12 ("When we lay together on the fresh spring grass") for Jack/ Davey or Race/ Albert? Thanks so much and happy Valentine's Day!

omg i’m sorry this took so long!! (as we can see from “happy valentines day” jhhbgh) i took a break from writing but i’m back babey!!!

javid; 2k; uhh ambiguous time setting? sorta modern era but maybe it’s like,, the 60s or something; no content warnings! just fluff!

i highly recommend listening to “fishin’ in the dark” while reading this— it sets the tone perfectly.

It’s Davey’s first summer in the country, and he’s still not sure how he feels about it.

They’d moved here in the middle of the school year, leaving behind everything he’d once known in the heart of New York City, in exchange for a new life in a tiny little town. His father had lost his job back home, and instead of seeing it as a setback, his folks had taken it as an opportunity to start over somewhere else, across the country.

It’s not all bad, Davey figures.

He’s made a lot of friends— the kids at school were incredibly inviting, though you sort of have to be when there’s only five or six people in each grade. If anything, they were entertained by Davey’s fascinating stories of the big city, and his lack of knowledge of anything farming-related. He can’t complain; at least he has friends here, he certainly didn’t have many in New York.

Manhattan also didn’t have all this fresh air and gorgeous weather. It didn’t have the wonderful house they live in now— he’d grown up in a tiny apartment with all five of them crammed into just a couple of rooms. There’s definitely much more free space around here. He’s even got his own bedroom, free from sharing with Les.

And, well, New York didn’t have Jack.

Sweet, lovely Jack, who lives just down the street. Jack, who runs around barefoot, wears a tattered old cowboy hat, sings country songs, and drives a rust-bucket truck. Jack, who’s got the smoothest southern drawl in the world, and a year-round farmer’s tan. Jack, who Davey is head over heels for.

Speak of the devil…

“Hey Davey-boy! What'cha up to?”

There’s Jack, leaning over the back fence of the Jacobs’s yard, the brim of his hat not able to shade the brightness of his smile. Davey has been pulling weeds from the garden all morning, but it’s starting to get a little too hot and sunny to keep going without collapsing from heatstroke.

“Not much of anything,” he replies, dropping his pail of dandelions into the dirt. “I’m about finished with this. What are you doing here? I thought you were working on Al’s family’s farm for the next little while.”

Jack shrugs, still grinning happily, like he hasn’t got a care in the world.

“It’s my day off. Medda wanted me home for a bit to fix some stuff up for her, but I finished it real quick, so I’ve got some free time.” He seems almost nervous as he scuffs at the dirt with his foot and adjusts his hat so Davey can see more of his face. “Say, if you’re all done here, how’d you like to hang around with me for a while? I’ve got somewhere real neat that I wanna take you, I think you’ll really like it.”

Davey raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“I don’t see why not,” he says, dusting the dirt off of his knees and picking his pail back up to toss the dandelions in the garbage bin. “I’ll let my mom know I’m going out and see if there’s anything she needs me to do first. I’ll meet you at your place in a bit?”

Jack’s smile widens, if that’s even possible.

“Sounds good! See ya in a bit, city slicker!”

And with that, he’s gone, darting back down the alley towards Medda’s place.

Davey shakes his head fondly, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

Twenty minutes later, they’re rolling along a gravel road in Jack’s truck. There’s mason jars of Medda’s signature sweet tea in their cup holders, and they’ve got the windows rolled down to let the breeze cool them off.

“So I’ve never been to a big city,” says Jack, breaking the easy silence they’d settled into. “Do y'all got grass there? And trees? Or is it all buildings?”

Davey can’t help but laugh. He sometimes imagines what his life would’ve been like if he’d lived here from the beginning, like Jack and all their other friends that have no idea of the hustle and bustle of New York.

“In parks, there’s trees and grass, yeah,” he replies, recalling the afternoons that he and Sarah used to drag Les over to Central Park in their rusty old wagon. “But not all over the place, the way it is here. New York is a lot of grey— the sidewalks, the buildings, even the air. It was just… dark and sad, a lot of the time. The longer I’m away from it, the less I miss it. I think I’m happier here.”

Jack’s grin is confirmation enough that Davey is, in fact, much happier here.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Jack replies, while tapping his hands absentmindedly on the steering wheel. “I ain’t ever had a friend like you before. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Twenty or so more minutes of driving finds them turning off the road to start down the long driveway of what looks like someone’s farm.

“Are we even allowed to be here?” asks Davey, as they roll right past an abandoned-looking house and quonset. “Who’s farm is this? Are we gonna get in trouble?”

Jack just chuckles and sips on the last of his sweet tea. There’s thankfully a few more jars of it in the backseat, courtesy of Medda, so they’ve got plenty to last the afternoon.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shaking his head. “We’re fine. This is, like, technically, sort of… my land? I used to live out here with my dad, but after he died, no one comes out here anymore. I like to come sometimes just to hang out. It’ll be mine once I’m old enough to farm it— since I can’t really do it by myself at seventeen, right? That’s why I live with Medda for now, and I work out at Al’s farm ‘cause his dad is teaching me everything I need to do. Awful nice of him, ain’t it?”

Even with such a sad topic, Jack is still smiling, like the happiness of getting to carry on his dad’s farm outweighs the sadness of losing him.

“Sure is, yeah,” says Davey, trying to reciprocate Jack’s little laugh. “I’m sorry about your dad, though. That had to be really hard.”

Jack shrugs one shoulder and seems about to reply, but he’s pulled out of the conversation as he suddenly whips the truck off the gravel road and onto a well worn trail through the brush.

“Oh, here we go!” he yells, before stepping on the gas pedal with full force. Well, that’s one way to change the topic. “Hang on, Davey-boy! It’s about to get real bumpy!”

Davey shrieks as they begin to pick up speed, practically flying down the dirt trail. He’s absolutely terrified for his life, but the way Jack is howling with excited laughter sort of makes this worth it.

“Jack Kelly!” screams Davey, not quite able to stop himself from laughing too. “You’re insane! We’re gonna die!”

Jack can’t seem to stop laughing but he pats Davey’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Just hold on!” he yells, as the truck flies over a bump and bounces as it lands. “I won’t let anything happen! You’re safe with me!”

Davey isn’t sure at what point he began to trust Jack so much, but for some reason, he believes it. He just grips the handle above the door for dear life and decides he might as well live in the moment for a bit.

He’s gonna be just fine.

When they finally pull up to where Jack had been trying to take them and climb out of the truck, Davey realizes that the terrifying joy-ride had totally been worth it.

It’s a clearing in the trees, a big grassy patch, with a creek running right through the middle. If he looks far enough down the rolling water, there’s a beaver dam within sight— something he’s never seen in real life before. Sunlight is streaming down in golden rays, lighting both the scenery and Jack’s tan face in the most gorgeous way.

“You like it?” asks Jack, tipping back his hat to reveal more of his face. “I ain’t ever brought anyone here. It was me and my mom’s favourite place to come hang out. We used to have picnics here all the time.”

There’s a kind of wistful look on his face, and Davey kind of really wants to kiss him. Is that weird? He’s not really sure, but it’s probably best not to overthink it.

“I love it, Jack,” says Davey, rather sure his voice is giving away just how smitten he is. “This is beautiful… and I’m happy you trust me enough to show it to me. Thank you, Jackie.”

Jack seems caught off-guard by the sincerity, but his face eventually widens into a huge grin.

“Let’s have lunch,” is all he says, seemingly not sure how to respond to Davey’s words. It might just be the heat, but Davey swears there’s a blush across Jack’s cheeks. “Pick us a spot on the grass, I’ll get the food out. We’ll have to thank Medda for it later.”

With that, the two boys turn in opposite directions and try to recover from that strangely soft interaction. Davey wanders down to the water and slips his shoes off so he can dip his foot in— it’s surprisingly cool and refreshing. He opts to sit down right there, his feet dangling in the creek as minnows nip at his toes.

“Good choice,” says Jack, moments later, as he approaches behind Davey and sits on the grass next to him. “The water’s sure nice, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” replies Davey, suddenly feeling very shy as Jack slings an arm around his shoulders and leans into his side. Holy shit. “It’s really nice. Colder than I was expecting.”

“Really now?” Jack reaches down to cup a handful of water and fling it in Davey’s face. “How’s that?”

Davey immediately retaliates, splashing a much more significant amount of water up onto Jack. Both of them are laughing hard, any thoughts of having lunch flying right out the window.

“That’s it, you’re on,” Jack growls, before sneakily wrestling Davey right into the creek. Both of them go down, tumbling fully-clothed into the shallow, cold water. “Take that, Davey-boy!”

The water-fight lasts several minutes and ends with no clear winner. They simply grow tired of it and flop onto the grass, exhausted.

It takes Davey a moment to process just how close together they are. Jack is laying against him, laughing into the crook of his neck. They’re both soaking wet and freezing cold— though it’ll likely only take a few minutes for the sun to warm them up. This means Davey has to act very quickly.

Before he can get caught up in his head and get too nervous to do it, he swallows his fear and presses a quick kiss to Jack’s cheek. Jack’s laughter ceases and he looks up at Davey— he thankfully doesn’t look angry, mostly just confused.

“I hope that was okay,” Davey quickly says, the weight of what he’s just done finally hitting him. “I didn’t mean to cross a line, I just really like you, and—”

He finds himself cut off by Jack’s lips pressing against his own. It takes him a second to process it, but he eventually smiles into the kiss and lets his arms sneak around Jack’s neck to hold him close. He’s not sure he’s ever been this happy before.

“I really like you too,” Jack replies, once they pull away for breath. “So much, Davey. I’m so happy to have you.”

With that, he reconnects their lips and they stay that way for a long while, sunlight streaming over them as birds chirp in the background.

Davey is really, really glad they moved to the country.

Tag list:

@landlessbud @eponinemylove @i-got-personality @alovelymoonbeam @penzyroamin @graceful-popcorn @bencookisagod @auspicioustarantula @neverplannedonsomeonelikeyou @orollyitsracetrackhiggins @backgroundnewsies @magimerlyn @myheartissetinmotion @papesdontsellthemselves @supremebesson @justasadcryptid @marvels-ninja @aw-jus-let-em-try @big-potato-asshole @stop-the-presses @fameworks-quicker @wilde-guess @never-fear-brooklyns-here @r-a-c-e-t-r-a-c-k @fandom-fangirl07 @theresagoodchanceicouldfly @dying-poet

#my writing #newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #yee yee!!!! this was fun #jack kelly deserves to be a cowboy in more fics #its his dream ok??

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janephillipsblog · 4 years

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Happy New Year! 2019 Reflections, 2020 Resolutions

This is the time of year to reflect on everything that has happened in the past year and look forward to the new year and perhaps make some resolutions. We are also entering a new decade, which is something that I have never thought much of in the past. The 2010’s have been interesting and life changing for me that is for sure. Going back even further to the beginning of the millennium, it’s certainly been quite a journey. 1999 was the year that I took up theatre as an adult so 2019 marks the 20th year that I have been doing theatre. It has been quite a ride and the road has been long, winding, and often quite bumpy! Relationships, pets and business ventures have come and gone, whereas other aspects of my life have remained constant or improved.

In 2018, I had made a commitment to myself that whenever I had money to spare I would enroll in classes and workshops for acting or personal development. I got 2019 off to a good start by taking the Essentials of Film and TV class at Company of Rogues starting in January. That month I also volunteered as an usher for the One Yellow Rabbit High Performance Rodeo. My blog post about the festival resulted in a feature on me as a volunteer in the One Yellow Rabbit newsletter. Rehearsals also started that month for Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Princess Ida” with Morpheus Theatre. I also started as a volunteer with the Alberta Animal Rescue Crew Society (AARCS), mostly as a cat caregiver. I volunteer at the animal shelter about 2 to 3 times a month.

I turned 45 years old in February. I also took a stunt combat workshop with Adrian Young Action Services which was fantastic. I also did a story slam workshop one evening which was something a bit different as I had never done any sort of oral storytelling before. I also participated in the Dead Cold Run, a 5K run in South Glenmore Park. I am looking forward to completing the run again in 2020.

In March I joined the Calgary Society of Independent Filmmakers (CSIF). To date, I haven’t done much with my membership other than volunteer one evening, but the intention to do more with it and get involved is there! I took Bruce Horak’s creative workshop, Tendencies, which was fun and I also volunteered as an usher for the Festival of Animated Objects which was very enjoyable. I also participated in the Rogers Insurance Run for L’Arche and ran my first 5-mile race (8K), a new distance record for me. March also was the official end of my relationship with my boyfriend of the past 4 years.

Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Princess Ida” with Morpheus Theatre opened in April and ran until May for a total of 14 performances. I participated in the Onesie Run in Prince’s Island Park and also started seeing my current boyfriend during this month.

In May, “Princess Ida” finished its run. I started getting regular IATSE 212 stage call work. The film industry was getting busy so permittees such as myself were able to get more work. I took the Bouffon Intensive Masterclass workshop this month which fulfilled its promise of pushing my boundaries and challenging me as a performer. I also participated in the Rocky Mountain Soap Company’s Fast and Female women’s run (completing the 5K distance) in Canmore. This was challenging as there were hills and Canmore is at a higher altitude. I hope to participate in it again in 2020.

In June, I ran my first 10K in the Huntington’s Run for Hope, I also started to work on the summer trains for Aspen Crossing and did a day on set as background for Tribal. I also volunteered at Horror Con selling tickets. This was also the month I started to put the wheels in motion to find employment within the film industry, submitting my application for permittee status with IATSE 212 in film.

In July, I started a series of vocal lessons with Naomi Williams. I took the set etiquette workshop with IATSE 212, a requirement for the film permit and at the end of the month I took the production assistant workshop with the Director’s Guild of Canada, Alberta District Council. July was also a great month for stage calls with IATSE due to the Calgary Stampede. During the Stampede this year, my boyfriend and I checked out several bands on the Coca-Cola Stage - Metric, Bishop Briggs, Dear Rouge and Death Cab for Cutie - and played the midway.

At the beginning of August, I was offered a role in “Babette’s Feast” with Fire Exit Theatre, which I of course accepted. I did the performer set etiquette course offered by ACTRA and also did a couple of days as a background performer on “Ghostbusters: Afterlife”. I did a road trip with my boyfriend to Grande Prairie to see his parents, returning to Calgary via BC, staying in the fabulous Three Valley Lake Chateau for the last night. At the end of the month, I left the legal industry for good and began work as a production assistant in the locations department on a TV series called “A Teacher” which was shooting until October.

In September, I participated in the Pride Parade with ACTRA and DGC. Rehearsals started for “Babette’s Feast” and I would be playing Babette. I went to Ontario to visit my family for my Dad’s 80th birthday. My sister was also there and I hadn’t seen her for 15 years so it was a fantastic reunion.

In October, I worked on the Train of Terror as a scarer for Aspen Crossing. I also had a day on set as a background performer for “A Teacher” and towards the end of the month worked as a locations PA on a Canadian feature film called “Chasing Justice”. I also accepted a role in “Clue: The Musical” with Dewdney Players. I also got to see Morrissey and The Interrupers live in concert this month.

In November, I took the mermaid course with Adventures in Scuba. I did a day on set as a background performer for “Winter in Vail”, a Hallmark movie. I also had a few IATSE stage calls.

Photo Credit: Jen Carty

In December, “Babette’s Feast” with Fire Exit Theatre opened at the Engineered Air Theatre in Arts Commons and ran for 7 performances. I also worked on the Polar Express for Aspen Crossing. On a personal note, I also made the last payment on my car loan.

Generally, over 2019, I formed and maintained some great habits. I was happy to have continued regular exercise and increase my running distance, however, after I stopped being a full-time office employee with access to a gym at lunch, I stopped running for a few months. It was also difficult to maintain an exercise program when working 14-hour days on set as a PA, however locations work can be physically demanding and IATSE stage calls certainly are. I discovered that I enjoy physical work much more than office work - it’s great to get paid to work out! I have recently started to run again and finding the 5K distance easy to do and looking forward to all the races that I can participate in next year.

I am happy to say that auditioning has become a habit. I auditioned a lot last year. It took 18 auditions (screen and stage) before I was offered a role in “Babette’s Feast”. The role of Babette was definitely worth persisting for, because I admit, after rejection after rejection, that negative little voice inside my head kept suggesting I give up, that being an actor is too hard. I am glad that tenacity took over and I kept on going. As far as auditioning goes, I felt very happy that I was invited to audition for Vertigo Theatre twice last year. Those experiences have made auditions in general easier and not so scary. I have three theatre auditions lined up for January 2020 already.

Writing is developing as a habit. I have been keeping a journal on and off since a teenager and I try to write in my journal every morning. I completed a short story in November, which I submitted for a competition (still waiting to hear), and am working on several scripts. I am learning to focus more and work on one project at a time - taking on too many projects has definitely been my downfall in the past and I have many incomplete ones.

I have also seen a lot of live theatre this year. 52 shows! I have been able to see this many shows as I volunteer as an usher as much as I can. I have learnt so much as a performer and writer from the shows that I have had the privilege of seeing this year. Here in Calgary we certainly have a vibrant scene both amateur and professional. There seems to be a great demand for it as well as many shows sell out even with long performance runs. There was only one show that I did not really enjoy (which shall remain nameless - it was more to do with the actual story than the production itself), but my ten favourite shows this year were, in no particular order, “Cafe Daughter”, Alberta Theatre Projects (part of the High Performance Rodeo), “Deathtrap” - Vertigo Theatre, “Tria Fata” - La Pendue (part of the Festival of Animated Objects), “Giant” - Ghost River Theatre (part of the Festival of Animated Objects), “Avenue Q” - Front Row Centre Players, “Boom X” - Rick Miller at Theatre Calgary, “The Invisible” - Catalyst Theatre/Vertigo Theatre, “Iceland” - Theatre Calgary, “Monster” - Seadreamer, and “A Christmas Carol” - Theatre Calgary. “Deathtrap” was my overall favourite for total entertainment value.

2019 was not a great year for real estate. It wasn’t for a lot of Realtors. For me, working full time and trying to run a business was not easy, but now I have the time to focus more energy into my business, to help more clients and hopefully bring more results!

2019 was a not a great year for me in terms of background work either, especially compared to 2018. I only had 5 days on set as a background performer this year. This is one of the reasons I decided to pursue work as a crew member, which I found fulfilled the desire to simply be on set.

So what does 2020 have in store for me? I guess I will have to wait and see with 20/20 vision! My main resolution is to continue with the work I have been doing. To keep exercising, keep running, ride Stardust more, more mermaiding, swimming, walking, exploring. For acting to keep taking workshops and classes when I can and keep auditioning and hopefully get more auditions in film and TV. I am going to continue to write and complete things, allowing others to read them. I have a short film script that I would love to see produced next year. I hope to do more real estate, more PA work, more IATSE work and more background work. I also want to travel. I would dearly love to go to Ontario for my mother’s 70th birthday in March and for my brother’s 40th in December. I also want to visit my cousin in New Mexico. But mostly I resolve to stay true to myself, to not accept second best and to keep striving for excellence, inspiring others and myself at the same time.

Happy New Year!

#actorslife #theatre #running #writing #happynewyear #calgary

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dat-town · 5 years

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No Speed Limit | Chapter 7

Summary: Some people live to race while others race to live. When an uptown girl’s and street racer’s worlds collide, their lives are bound to change. For the better or worse, it’s hard to tell. In-between rivalry and unwanted sparks, there’s definitely a bumpy road ahead (with no speed limit).

Words: 2.6k

Chapter index

Soyeon fell into the rhythm of Hanbin's life quicker and easier than he would have thought. She really wasn't the typical Gangnam girl anyone would have pegged her. She was fierce, witty and a lot more cooler and less rigid than the stereotype. Of course she had her moments though when she pouted and thought she could get anything but her life didn't revolve around designer bags and throwing the money out of the window. She didn't look down at him at all despite knowing that his living conditions weren’t the best. And what started out as mere physical attraction between them soon evolved into something more as they got to know each other day by day.

Dating Soyeon involved a lot of car rides, stolen glances in the rear mirror, half made-up excuses in front of her parents, so she could accompany him to the weekend races and well, a bunch of dumbfounded friends. When she first visited him at the car repair shop on one of his off duty days as her driver, whispers followed her figure. Every head snapped up hearing the click-clacks of her boots echoing in the garage, some guy from the corner even whistled Soyeon's entrance.

"Are you looking for something?" Yuna stood up from her chair where she was doing some finance calculations as soon as the girl stepped over the threshold. She might have recognized her from that night when Hanbin defeated her arrogant brother, Seungyeon, maybe she didn't but her tone wasn't as lovely as usually it was. She was pretty obviously judging the newly arrived girl in shorts and tank top even if she didn't dress any less provocatively.

But Soyeon wasn’t easy to intimidate. She raised her chin high up.

"Yeah. I'm looking for Hanbin," she replied and her voice didn’t waver even one bit. Her amusement of seeing the annoyance on the other’s face was barely a flash of glint in her chocolate eyes.

"And why exactly..."

"Hi babe," Hanbin cut off the complaining Yuna as he stood from the cover of an old Hyundai. Wiping his palms into the dirty rag by his side, he walked over to the newcomer, pressing a quick kiss on her cheeks.

He had been listening to the whole conversation and the radiating confidence of Soyeon filled him with pride. His fingers dipped in oil slid to her waist like they belonged there, a subtle reminder for everyone around what was his. Hanbin wasn’t a possessive person or a show-off - okay maybe he was when it came to cars - but after they discusses their mutual feelings, physical closeness to Soyeon was addictive. Whenever he had her around, his fingers itched to touch, to claim, to hold tight and feel her heartbeat against his. So it’s not that he was afraid any of his friends would try something with her but rather because he liked the sight of the faint blush on Soyeon’s cheeks whenever he was being touchy. Well well, it was her who complained about him not touching her enough back then, so now he made sure she didn’t get such stupid thoughts into her head.

“Babe?” Yuna echoed more puzzled than ever with her elegant eyebrows stick to the middle of her forehead. She scoffed as if it was so unbelievable but she didn’t know Soyeon, none of them did like him. In their eyes she was still the chick who became the prize of her brother’s stupid game.

“Dude, are you really fucking your boss’ daughter?” Someone whistled in disbelief from one corner and Hanbin wanted to throw something hard at Jinhwan for his obscene words. But he knew he didn’t mean anything bad by it. They had been friends for half a decade, they had had each other’s back in the most difficult times, so he knew the elder guy was just teasing shamelessly.

“What? Are you jealous?” Hanbin played along and based on the laughter that erupted around them everybody knew it was all chill. A few went back to work immediately, while others gathered around them curiously eyeing the first girl Hanbin brought back here.

“Guys, this is Soyeon. She’s nothing like her brother, so don’t get ideas,” the guy started off with introductions because he wanted to avoid any malicious comments about her being here to spy on them or any ridiculous claim like that. While working for her family, Hanbin had clearly seen that Soyeon despised nobody like her brother. He treated her like a fool and used every chance to get back at her. He was the reason why their circle of people, the rich kids were wary of Soyeon. Her brother made sure nobody approached his sister but luckily he wasn’t able to bribe or scare off Junhoe and a few university friends like Miyeon at least. Unlike her Hanbin was lucky enough to call a bunch of people his friends, almost like family and one of the reasons why he invited her over was so that the most important people in his life could meet. And if Soyeon was able to make some friends along the way even better. “She is also my girl, so show her some respect.”

“She can have all of mine if she’s able to put up with you,” Bobby, another teasing shit, hollered but Hanbin was used to this kind of behaviour and he just rolled his eyes with a huge grin on his face. Of course his friends wanted to make fun of him before Soyeon.

“Let me introduce these idiots to you,” he turned his head and whispered into her ear, mouth grazing over the dangling earring she wore. He felt the tremble the little action sent through Soyeon’s body and he was glad he wasn’t the only one affected by their newfound intimacy but this wasn’t the time, nor the place to venture into a new territory. First, she had to meet the fam.

After the small bumps and initial awkwardness of the first meeting, Soyeon became a frequent guest at the shop. She visited him regularly in-between races and after Hanbin’s official working hours. Eventually she got along well with everybody. Bobby treated her as if she was his fierce, long-lost younger sister which was stupidly endearing. In the meantime Jinhwan shamelessly encouraged her to bring her ‘ridiculously handsome’ friend along next time she comes. She laughed and promised she would, exchanging a secret look with her boyfriend because they both knew that their friends had the hots for each other. Haesoo gladly welcomed another girl in the gang and adored her fashion style which she never failed to compliment. Hanbin even jokingly complained once that he felt like a parrot repeating after her because he always missed his chance to be the first one to comment on Soyeon’s look when the younger girl was in the shop, too. His girlfriend just laughed hearing his whining and told him she didn't mind hearing it again.

Since Soyeon herself knew quite a bit about cars, she got a hang of their inside jokes quickly and was able to really be a part of their gang. The last one to let go off her prejudice was Yuna who refused to believe she was anything more than a silly rich chick playing with Hanbin’s heart until their little bet. It took only a few visits to reach the end of Yuna's patience and hostility. Soyeon merely suggested a bit of a change in the torque of the car for better performance but it made the other girl scoff.

“Are you speaking from experience or just running your lipstick mouth about something you have know idea of?” she grimaced clearly not giving enough credit but Soyeon wasn't one to let things like this go. It wasn't the first time to prove herself, so she didn't even hesitate pushing herself away from the currently fixed car, getting into the personal space of the other.

“Well why don't you find it out? Wanna hit the road?”

The little crowd around them hollered, it was an invitation for waltz but not the elegant kind.

“Are you for real? Sure, it's so on.” After her initial surprise, Yuna collected herself quickly and threw a challenging glance at the girl before turning on her heels, heading over her car. Soyeon turned to Hanbin one last time and flashed a bright, confident smile that looked better on her than any accessory. He gave her thumbs up and moved together with the crowd of people who all moved outside to the border of the road to see them getting lined up.

“Yuna has even raced in the Ring, she will demolish Soyeon-ah,” Bobby shook his head in a sad, sympathetic voice as he reached Hanbin's side. Next was Jinhwan to catch up with them.

“If she's able to keep up that's already enough to earn her respect,” he said eyeing the expensive car the politician's daughter had neck-to-neck with Yuna's older but race-trained car.

“Why are you letting her do this?” Bobby pushed his shoulder but they both gave the guy a disapproving look. However, getting between them had never crossed Hanbin's mind. The corner of his lips turned upwards.

“Because it's her fight and because she's going to win. She's a natural, believe me.”

He really didn’t get why the Jeon parents insisted on her having a chauffeur when she was an excellent driver herself. It might had had something to do with her schedules being monitored this way or that with a personal driver and car for each member of the family, they could show off their wealth. Or maybe they didn't want to give her that much control. But since he would have never understood Mr. Jeon's decisions regarding his family, Hanbin gave up pretty early on analysing his reasons.

The rules were easy: till the end of the street and then back, the signal for the start was given by Haesoo. Then everybody cheered for their favourite, screaming from the top of their lungs. Races were always a liberating way of having fun, a kind of hedonism, pumping their adrenalin levels up even if they were just small, in-house ones. They could show themselves, putting their talents on display and even if Hanbin had already seen Soyeon drive, he anticipated the race.

Both cars accelerated quickly shooting into the distance ahead and it was impossible to tell which one of them would be the winner. The U-turn in the dead end of the road was the trick. Whoever manages to take that faster will most probably gain enough leverage to secure their first place. From this distance the two cars seemed like nothing more than colourful patches but it was easy to tell when they arrived to the turning point.

Everybody screamed and shouted gathering around the vehicle that got back first and they exclaimed their congratulations loudly as soon as Soyeon opened the door.

“Oh my gosh, that was so sick, girl!”

“Never knew you had it in you, damn.”

Hanbin smiled proudly and endeared seeing her shyness at all these compliment. He made his way through the small mass of people.

“Congrats,” he said with a grin and welcomed the girl in his arms gladly, the nice, sweet scent of her lotus shampoo filling his senses. Her head was just by the crook of his neck, the perfect height to hug if you asked them. He could forget about time and place in serene moments like this.

The gathering around them slowly dissolved, the guys going back to work one by one.

“Let’s go for a ride,” Hanbin suggested because he knew the perfect place he wanted to show his girl.

“Stay safe, kids,” Jinhwan singsonged while leaving and Hanbin really threw his dirty rag at him. Luckily, Soyeon didn't care or at least she didn't comment on it as she walked around the car. She threw her car key at him and he caught it on instinct.

The drive was a pleasant one talking about everything and nothing, reminiscing old memories and speaking about making new ones. In these moments they forgot about the obvious differences in their lives, about the almost inevitable end and they were just living in the moment.

“Wow,” Soyeon breathed in awe when they arrived to the parking lot of one of the most popular lookout spots outside of the busy city life. On a weekday, this late there was barely anybody around and they had a first row view on the illuminated, neon jungle of Seoul. It was like staring at million stars fallen on the ground. “It's beautiful.”

“So are you,” Hanbin blurted out no matter how cheesy it was because he enjoyed the sight of the blush creeping onto the girl's face all to much. Slowly he leaned over the gear shift, watching every small reaction of her, the way her eyes flattered close, mouth slightly parted and he closed the distance between them. At first it was slow, exploring each other but with every flick of tongue and hands on skin the temperature had risen around them and it wasn't enough.

“You were so hot challenging Yuna,” the guy whispered into the seam of her mouth, voice rough and raspy.

“Just then?” Soyeon asked teasingly, eyes glinting in the dark like cats do and Hanbin's breath hitched when her soft, little hand found the zipper of his full body uniform at his neck.

“No, you're hot now too,” he admitted with a gulp, sneaking a hand over the naked expanse of skin by her waist. The girl seemed to approve his answer with a hum and painfully slowly she pulled down the zipper revealing a simple white tank top under it. Sneaking her hand between the two materials they resumed kissing but it became pretty uncomfortable after a while.

Hanbin unbuckled both of their seatbelts and pushed his seat farther back between heavy panting.

“Come here,” he mumbled against her swollen, strawberry-flavoured lips and with a hand firmly on her thigh he helped Soyeon over the middle of the car and pulled her into his lap. She sighed satisfied when she could push off the uniform off his shoulders finally revealing his biceps and tattoos peeking out from under the shirt.

It was the first time they advanced from simply kissing to something deliberately hot like this, so it was all new and exciting and even if Hanbin knew his way around girls, Soyeon seemed to drive him crazy. His hand found its way under her crop top getting firm grip on her side, thumb stroking the edge of her bra as he kissed down on her jaw pressing open mouth kisses onto her swan neck and he worked on leaving a lasting mark on her skin, a reminder of his presence there. Hearing the girl moan when he sucked on the skin particularly hard was music to his ears and he relished in the feeling of her nails digging into his arm.

It felt like they made out for an eternity because they knew it's not safe going any further out here in the open, at such a public place but they didn't want to stop either.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Soyeon whispered once they cooled down, her breath hitting the sweaty neck of Hanbin in a way that send chills down the guy's spine but he agreed with a hum and pulled his girl even closer to his chest.

They could worry the day after, that night he didn't want to care about anything.

#ikonicshelves #ikon scenarios #ikon imagines #hanbin scenarios #hanbin fanfic #hanbin x soyeon #soyeon fanfic #soyeon scenarios #driver au #stories #series: no speed limit

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