#my dad thinks wallows is like. a joke band

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

happy getting hitched day! 1.9k, (sort of) ft. this

Most days of the year, Sam's the optimist.

It doesn't usually fall on Dean to keep the spirits up in times of war anymore. Or worse, loss. And Dean, well, he thinks himself as enough of an in-the-moment kinda guy to not wallow when everything's not going to shit, right friggin' then.

Sam, on the other hand?

Beacon of light when there's a little Hell to raise, harbinger of hope when there's a God to defeat.

And losing his shit entirely when there's an aisle to walk down, leading to the girl of his dreams and the best decision of his life.

"Dean."

Dean fusses around Sam in compact little semicircles fixing his already perfect tux, while his brother panics in a way Dean only remembers from before the kid stopped having to look up at Dean.

But he's looking down at Dean now, wide-eyed and sweaty like the very first time Dean saw him off on a date when he was fourteen — with supple, bullshit eighteen-year-old advice, he bets — and thirty eight year old Sammy is, clear as day, losing his shit.

"Yeah?" Dean channels all the calm he's got into it.

"What if I forget my vows?"

"Well," Dean lifts his eyebrows, and picks up a linen thread from Sam's shoulder that caught his eye. "First of all, would kinda serve you right for writing six pages worth of them."

"Stop being a —"

"Front and back, Sammy. Front and back."

"Dean." Sam glares, more indignant than mad. Dean rolls his eyes, and Sam continues, replacing the look immediately with a troubled one that reflects the dilemma in his voice. "I mean, I've learned them, of course. At least I think I have — I practised twice last night, once this morning — but what's to stop me from fumbling, or forgetting —"

"Your gigantic nerd brain?"

"This is serious." Sam frowns, levelling another look at Dean like he's the one with the stellar proverbial cold feet. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean throws back immediately, and pauses in his shuffling around for effect. "Also, no. No, it isn't." And Sam goes to argue with a bitchface already surfacing, but Dean keeps going, sterner, more confident. This is something he's been doing all his life. He can probably talk the kid down from a panic high like this in his sleep. "And you're going to stop being a dumbass, and listen to what I'm saying."

"'M not a dumbass." Sam mutters.

"Yeah, you are." Dean shrugs, completely nonchalant, and Sam laughs in spite of himself, nervous, but a welcome improvement as he waits for Dean to proceed. (Big brother voice never lets Dean down.)

He's still got it.

"Here's what you're going to do. You're going to get out there," Dean continues, smiling now. "You're going to hold Eileen's hand while the minister marries you. And approximately ten to fifty minutes later, when he asks you to, you're going to look into her eyes, and you're going to say your vows. All stupid six pages of them, verbatim, 'cause I know you, and you're going to that's why."

"They're not stupid."

Dean hums in consideration, then smirks. "There's bravery in acceptance. They probably are."

"Cas called them exquisite." Sam crosses his arms, and Dean uses the opportunity to pick up a hair from his sleeve with a disapproving look.

(Dean had offered to give him a haircut seventeen times and gotten turned down, and now Sam was shedding.)

"Yeah, well, he's a walking-talking scrabble board with good manners, what is he supposed to do?" Dean rolls his eyes but instead of the expected response of Sam snarking back at him, bitchfacing him or something, Sam sighs.

The air thickens with something that's probably a bigger deal than having to wing a couple paragraphs of page three of the vows.

Dean watches Sam fidget with the buttons on his cuff.

"How did you know, Dean?" Sam asks, subdued, after a pause. "How did you know that Cas wasn't — that Cas wasn't making a horribly wrong decision."

Dean's almost halfway to making a joke about the other shoe but he stops himself.

Because this?

This, he gets.

This feeling of thinking — knowing — you're not good enough, that you aren't right for the one you love, that you're somehow deceiving everything that your life has stood as proof of, in allowing someone else to bind themselves to you, forever, when you know that everyone who's ever meant something to you has lost, and died, and hurt.

And that is exactly why he also knows what to say.

"Because I trust him, Sammy."

Sam's eyes start glazing over. "I trust her too. I just, I'm just so scared —"

Dean winces at his words.

(That's Sam, but it's Sam in Dean's shoes. It was Dean's job — for better or for worse — to keep him safe. And he's failed, failed repeatedly, and now Sam — well, he's as broken as Dean.)

"I love her too much for anything to go wrong, Dean, and something — no, everything, always goes wrong." Sam grits his teeth, and Dean puts his hand on Sam's shoulder.

Squeezes. "I get it. I swear to you, I do. But I also promise that you might regret the things we've done, and the things that have been done to us, but you're never going to regret this."

Sam nods jerkily, eyes downcast.

"And I get being scared. Hell, I was more scared than you the entire week, dude. But you know how — and why, I pushed through?" Sam looks up again. "Because at the end of all of this, there's something more important than the promises of eternal happiness, and forever, and the Celine Dion lyrics I know you've stuffed in your vows. There's them. The ones we love."

Dean swallows.

"And who love us too, because our fucked up heads be damned, I've seen the way she looks at you, Sammy." Sam's face breaks into a small, wet smile. "So you better believe she does."

"I do." Sam slowly nods, again, eyes brimmed with tears.

(Probably about to start spilling. The only consolation for Dean is that at least his tears don't fall. Means as long as he doesn't mind a blurry view of everything, he might as well ignore their existence like he means it.)

"There, was that so hard?" Dean laughs instead, although it's weak until Sam joins in, surprised, and only then registering the words he just spoke.

"Thank you, Dean."

Is all he says, and anything Dean might've wished to say (or wisecrack) back at him is dismissed immediately because he's being pulled into a full Winchester hug by his door-sized little brother, and all he can do then is hold onto Sam as tight as he's holding him, and hold on.

(Because they made it.

They found free will, they found love, and they found their happy ending.)

Because Sammy's getting married today.

And they don't just get to be okay anymore. They get to be happy.

Sam doesn't pull back from the hug for at least a whole minute, but Dean doesn't mind, because the tears welling up in his eyes are gone when he finally smiles at Dean, earnest. "I'm —" He starts to say, but gets interrupted by Cas walking up to them with a cluster of carnations in his hand, wearing a rich navy blue tux (the same as Dean's) and a wide smile.

"Hope I didn't interrupt anything," Cas beams, knowing exactly what he walked in on, and Sam shakes his head courteously while Dean battles the weirdly overwhelming need to kiss him right there — Cas is almost ridiculously beautiful when he's happy.

(He doesn't, though.

Cause he and Sam may've just had a moment but it's not like that means he'd be any less likely to be a pain in the ass about urgently requiring brain bleach and therapy, if Dean did.)

Cas carries on.

"Actually, Eileen's friend, Cara, brought her flowers and she suggested I should bring some to you."

"A corsage." Dean realizes out loud, beginning to grin at once, while Sam resorts to ducking his head like an overgrown teenage girl on her way to prom. Doesn't mean that Dean absolutely doesn't put on his best chickflick Dad voice (after he's taken over pinning the flowers to Sam's pocket from Cas, cause he was doing it wrong) and pat the corsage when he says, "Get 'er home by ten."

"The dynamics of that are all wrong." Sam points out with a traditional Sam smirk, and yeah, he's okay.

"The dynamics of your face are all wrong."

"Great comeback, yeah." Sam snorts, and Cas smiles. "Points for effort. I think."

"Whatever, you're the one wearing flowers right now."

"Dean, you wore an ascot on our wedding day."

"Ascot trumps flowers!"

"No, it doesn't." Sam bitchfaces, and Dean turns to Cas, and —

"No, it doesn't."

And Sam lets out a victorious "Hah!", and high-fives a (only slightly) confused looking Cas before pulling him into a sasquatch-sized hug as well, while Dean rewards the entire ordeal with a heartfelt eyeroll and absolutely doesn't look on at two of the most important people in his life while he pretends to be bristled about being ganged up against on his special day as Best Man.

Cas and Sam separate sooner than Dean and he did, and just in time for Jack to poke his head out the church door and remind them they're ready.

Then, Cas leaves to get Eileen, with another big smile and a signed Congratulations at Sam, and a fleeting cheek-kiss for Dean.

Then, Sam and Dean get in position behind the door and Sam refixes his tie.

(Then, Dean has to stage-whisper "Jack!" about seven times before the kid realizes he's being cued — the band had just started playing, he makes it a point to try to explain to Dean afterwards — and the great, wooden doors finally swing open to reveal a beautiful white aisle, and dozens of their friends and family smiling from both sides of it.)

And then, Dean finally walks the kid he's raised and the brother he's saved the World with countless times, down the aisle.

*

(Sam only messes up once in his vows. It's the last verse of Thank You, by Celine Dion.

Rumor has it, it was intentional.

Something about the first time they met.

Dean tells Sam, "You're welcome", the next time he sees him.)

#happy saileen day #dean winchester pov #i just wanted to write a nervous sam before walking down the aisle scene and it turned into an actual fic from dean's point of view so — #saileen wedding #sam winchester being sam winchester #eileen leahy #deancas #background destiel #bluefirecas #userpris #usersila #holmesemrys #tearsofgrace #userstarry #rambleoncas #userdori #oh writing my writing

[anntoldst0ries]

Diagnosis

I just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you who read my previous fic and left such kind comments. You can’t imagine how much I appreciate this!

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Vicky Valentine)

Word Count: 2,911

Summary: Dr Ramsey attempts to diagnose the most difficult case in his career...his own.

Warnings: None! A lot of introspection again and hints of angst :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ethan Ramsey considered himself a brave man.

He always had the courage to say whatever he wanted to say or what had to be said - be that a terminal diagnosis, savaging someone’s speech at a medical conference (only if the speaker was talking nonsense, that is), scolding an intern - you name it. 

With years of experience under his belt, Dr Ramsey excelled at the “art” of saying the most horrible, unpleasant and inconvenient things. It was a process he took to pieces and mastered every tiniest part.

He knew exactly what they were whispering behind his back in the hospital corridors. Dr Ramsey is a bully. A ruthless cynic. No one survived more than 3 minutes of his tirades without bursting into tears. Or, as some of the interns so lovingly put it, he was “the only survivor of a heart transplant”. The last remark had been conveyed to him by Baz, who found it hilarious…and so did Naveen. It took one deadly look to silence Baz forever, however Naveen used every occasion to remind his protégé of hospital’s favourite joke:

‘How’s your heart, Ethan?’

‘Good, why are you as—‘ Ethan didn’t have a chance to finish answering the question, interrupted by Dr Banerji who was in convulsions.

‘God, Naveen, for such a bright mind and one of the best doctors in the world, I still find it hard to believe that you have a sense of humour of a 5 year old’

‘There is nothing wrong with some joy, Ethan. You should try it sometimes, it may do you good.’

Similar conversations took place on a regular basis, but they always ended with Ethan rolling his eyes and Naveen sighing. Younger doctor would never, ever tell his mentor off, he respected him too much. So Ethan let Dr Banerji have some fun at his expense from time to time.

But, truth be told, he kept his emotions at a leash and he was good at it, because there wasn’t a thing in Ethan’s life that he wasn’t good at. Regardless of what it was - saving people’s lives or emotional self-deprivation.

That’s why reminiscing past 2 years was so hard for accomplished diagnostician. He couldn’t help but think that he’s lived more during this time than he’s lived during his whole life. His existence wasn’t a boring one, he loved his job and the cases that the team had to crack were mostly complex and thus exciting. There was also a sense of fulfilment and servitude to a greater cause.

As a kid, Ethan wanted to be a detective. It all started with Alan buying his son one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s books. There was no hidden intention in this choice - Alan simply ran out of book ideas, Ethan was literally gobbling up the books at his disposal and was thirsty for more. Therefore, Mr Ramsey picked picked one of the thickest positions available in the book shop, with hopes it will keep Ethan occupied for at least a couple of weeks. Oh, how wrong he was - 5 days later his son was already begging for more.

Sherlock Holmes and Hercules Poirot quickly took the top spot on the list of Ethan’s childhood heroes. He was obsessed with their investigative methods, their sharp minds that captured even the tiniest of details and how missing those nuances would make solving a mystery a lot harder, if not impossible. 

That’s why he became obsessed with details. He analysed, compared, observed and noted down everything around him with deliberation. After a while, Ethan realised that these skills come handy in various areas of life. He could read people and to a degree foresee what their next move was going to be. If he wanted to, he could probably try and influence their decisions too. If it wasn’t for Alan’s upbringing, this particular skill might have taken his life onto a dark track, but fortunately he utilised it for greater good.

Having this sort of insight made him very self-conscious and he never turned away from reliving his own decisions and behaviours, which helped him become a better doctor, every single day. But he never wallowed in the mud of emotions, instead always operating on facts.

But for the past couple of months, this process became a pure torture. 

You know what they say, the devil is in the detail. And the devil it was indeed. 

The devil that would be the death of Ethan was 5’4, had raven hair, plumped lips, mesmerising eyes and a captivating laugh. 

Suddenly, he heard the devil’s voice in his head.

‘Are you pinching the bridge of your nose right now?’ 

He was.

‘God dammit!’ - shouted Ethan, so loud that he startled poor Jenner, who resigned from occupying the sofa and ran straight to his bed. Even the retriever, in his doggy wisdom, knew that when his master was upset, it was best to stay out of his sight and wait for the storm to pass.

Whenever Dr Ramsey had a serious dilemma, he would subtly join his thumb and index finger to pinch the gentle skin between eyes. She knew of this somewhat subconscious habit and teased him about it countless times. 

With most people, the whole observing and reading process was a one-sided game. For majority of mortals, Ethan was a closed book and they had no idea how to open, let alone read it. But not Rookie. She saw right through him. Ethan considered himself a riveting mystery thriller before, if we’re talking comparisons, but right now he was probably a cheap Harlequin. How did he sink so low in practically no time?

The answer came before he was even able to finish the question.

He was hopelessly, utterly and irreversibly in love with Dr Vicky Valentine.

“Victoria….” he whispered. He knew her full name, he’s read her bloody application and her employee file many, many times. More than he’d ever care to admit. Neither him nor anyone else addressed her by her full name. She always introduced herself as Vicky and even mentioned to him, June & Baz one time that she considered herself too young to be a bearer of such gracious name. But when the name fell out of his lips, it made perfect sense. Victoria. Victory. After a long, tough and heartbreaking battle, she’s won all of him. And man, wasn’t she fighting fiercely. 

She was so much like him, and yet so different. Patients loved her, and for a good reason - not only was she amazing at her job, but also so genuinely caring about every patient she met. Somehow, she was able to see past people weary of their conditions, instead she always noticed the human beings with their unique stories. Thanks to her, patients never felt like sickness became their identity, but merely a stage in their life that shall soon pass. 

Hospital staff adored her as well, she had time and a huge smile for everyone; her bright aura lit up every room she walked into and was a pleasure to be around. 

Those who knew Ethan a bit better or worked with him were aware of the insanely high standards he was holding himself to. And it would have been fine if they only applied to him, but he held everyone else to the same standard too. It was his buffer. Most gave up without even trying, it was humanly impossible to live up to such expectations. And that was the goal. Dr Ramsey wanted no distractions and if anyone wanted so much as approach him, they had a giant wall to jump over first.

But the young intern wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Dozens of people before her stood in front of the wall and tried to figure out how to get in. And she… she just found a tiny gap and squeezed right through. Before Ethan realised what’s going on, it was already too late. And she wasn’t even fully aware of what she’s done.

Like air, she’s entered his life imperceptibly, filling every space until there was nothing else. She was in every reflection he saw, every smile, every freaking thing a reminder of her, one way or another.

He was completely under her spell, enchanted, drunk in the thought of her.

The most ironic part was that if he went by his unreasonable standards, she’d never stand a chance.

She was messy, she was a klutz, she laughed too loud and rounded her eyes like a child when something seriously excited her.

And yet, something about her made him break all of his rules, lower his guard and re-think everything he’s ever thought he knew and believed in. 

Obviously, he wouldn’t be himself if the occupational quirk did not kick in at some point. Whatever the cause, Dr Ramsey had to get to the bottom of it, no matter how many tests did he have to run on his mind and heart. He needed the diagnosis so he could start the treatment. But his sharp diagnostic skills which made him a famous man, suddenly decided to go on unplanned vacation and it looks like they were not coming back anytime soon.

Ambivalence became Ethan’s newest companion. Some days, he thought he was going to blow his brains out, the others he was strangely content and did not want to analyse anything, things were good just as they were.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly lost. He felt like Jon Snow, he knew nothing. It wasn’t a result of one event, rather a chain reaction. Starting with Naveen getting sick, the inability to figure out what was wrong with his mentor made Ethan seriously doubt his capabilities as a doctor. Then, Louise Ramsey made a surprise reappearance after having walked out on him and his dad 25 years earlier. When he was little, his dad use to say that wherever Louise goes, trouble follows and it wasn’t any different this time. She brought company - insecurity, sorrow, resentment - to name just a few. Ethan felt like someone ripped a band aid from his heart and painfully reminded him that all the wounds are still alive and never really healed. 

And finally, Edenbrook. The place that others saw as walls, glass, beds, people in white coats, sickness, illness, death. To him, it was much, much more. The hospital had almost a transcendental dimension. It was here that Ethan’s transition had been completed. He shed his old skin and became Dr Ramsey, the person he was always meant to be.

That’s why Edenbrook closing hit him so hard - a part of him was about to die and be buried beneath years of sweat, tears and effort. It was probably the hardest thing to come to terms with in the 37 years that he’s been walking on the surface of the Earth.

And throughout all these events, she was with him.

She never gave up on Naveen and Ethan knew that there was more to it than just saving Edenbrook’s most prominent doctor. He believed, he wanted to believe that she did this for him too. 

The memory brought shame that drained off him like unpleasant wave of cold water. Ethan never really forgave himself for just laying in his bed like a drunk bag of potatoes, whilst she was busting her gut to solve the case, even though she had ethics hearing to prepare for. A hearing that could make or break her whole career, before she even had a chance to start.

Dr Ramsey would like to think they were alike. But as a matter of fact, she was a much better person than him.

Then, with his mother in the picture, she never told him what to do. Even though he asked, many times. He hoped someone can actually make the decision for him, because it hurt so much to even think about this, let alone decide what to do next. But she never did. She was just there and by simply being, she empowered him to make his own, informed decision. 

She was there, like no one else was in his entire life. Not to take anything from Naveen, who had tremendous effect on Ethan’s life - but this was completely different.

She penetrated his soul.

She made him feel.

Love.

It was the first time he used this word in a long, long time. 

And maybe, quite possibly, for the first time in his life he used it with intention. 

He thought he felt it once before. 

When he was a student at Johns Hopkins, Ethan met Camille. She was a year older than him, with angelic voice and looks, the cascade of blond locks surrounding her gentle facial features like a halo. 

What impressed him was that she kept hitting up on him, not the other way round. He’s had his mind set on graduating as a top student in his class and then getting the best residency there was - in Edenbrook hospital in Boston. It was either him or someone else. University romances were of no interest to him, or so he thought. After all, he’s just gone past his teenage years and was relatively new to the world of intimate human desires. As much as he tried to push them away, he had needs and his hormones were still a giant part of his decision-making process, doesn’t matter how hard he tried denying it.

Also, there was something motherly about her and she reminded him of the woman who left him when he was just a boy. It was completely fucked-up, he hated his mother and yet a memory of her and how he’d once do anything for her was tattooed in the insides of his brain.

Ethan and Camille shared a passion for medicine, music and opera. A few times, he was close to bringing her down to Providence, to introduce her to Alan, his father. But there was this weird voice in his head stopping him. 

Maybe that’s why he wasn’t overly surprised when one day he walked on Camille. In his bed. Screaming and making other explicit sounds…except, he wasn’t the igniter. It was none other than his best friend at the time, Tobias. Ethan would never forget the jealous glance he shot him with when he first brought Camille to one of the student parties. And then things got worse. Ethan and Tobias always competed and for a long time it was a fuel that kept them both going. But when someone wins, someone has to lose. Neither of them was good at losing or accepting the failure. 

Ethan was doing better than his best friend. Not significantly better, the difference between them had usually been slight, but it was there. Tobias couldn’t swallow this. Not only was Ethan doing better than him, he also had one of the most beautiful students at Hopkins by his side. Jealousy started to spread inside him like a wildfire and since his attempts to beat Ethan at school were futile, he decided to make use of his other skills. Tobias was a born flirter and charmer. He often used to say that no woman can resist his spell and that “where there’s a woman - there’s a way.”

Dr Ramsey never told anyone, but having found out that his girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend was sort of relief. Call it sixth sense, an intuition… subconsciously he sort of felt that she wasn’t a girl for him. As for Tobias, he was tired of the fight….of Tobias fighting with him, that is. Ethan wasn’t fighting, he was just a better student and was going to be a better doctor. He was tired of petty competition and how the toxin poisoned their relationship.

So they actually made him a favour and helped him killed 2 birds with 1 stone - he was saved from having an awkward break-up conversation that he’s never went through before and he now had every right to hate Tobias. He didn’t really, as such feelings were a waste of energy, but a week later Tobias moved out of their shared apartment and they never really spoke again.

After Camille, he was only in a brief relationship once. With Harper. He deeply admired and respected her, but when things started getting too serious (from her side), he distanced himself. And so, for a couple of years to follow, they were on the off and on again terms. They went through countless friends with benefits stages, but he genuinely enjoyed her company. They just never wanted the same things, which became more and more evident as she was getting older. And he respected her too much to mess her around.

Ethan’s career was everything to him and he accepted the fact that falling in love and having a family is just not in the cards for him.

Or so he thought.  

Dr Valentine entered his life one September morning and hasn’t left ever since. And, hell, hasn’t he tried to erase her. To make her hate him. To draw a line between work and personal life. He could honestly say that he tried everything.

For the love of God, he ran to fucking Amazon! He tried to hide from all things Dr Valentine, like a fool who forgot one of the most basic rules of life: there is no running away from yourself. 

Tag list (please let me know if you wish to be removed): @terrm9 @openheart12 @openheartthot @rookie-ramsey @alwaysmychoices @brooks-eden @drethanramslay @starrystarrytrouble @justanotherrookie @caseyvalentineramsey@incorrectopenheart @heauxplesslydevoted @perriewinklenerdie @mercury84choices @archxxronrookie @renasalek-blog @maurine07 @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @lemonmiddleton @tsrookie @choicesfan10 @dr-colossal-pita @queencarb @gryffindordaughterofathena @qrkowna @aarisa-frost @choicesficwriterscreations

#open heart #dr ethan ramsey #dr ethan jonah ramsey #dr ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #open heart choices #dr valentine #play choices #open heart fanfiction #open heart fic #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

[sir-elyan]

tagged by @chaoticdean !! ty jus!

RULES: Answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

i know these can be long so i’m putting it under the cut !

Name/Nickname: ely (el-ee)--which i’m thinking of making short for bellamy (,:

Gender: trans/non-binary, he/they

Star sign: gemini (i know)

Height: shcjsdc i’m 5″4

Time: currently 11:44 am PST

Birthday: June 15

Favorite bands: the oh hellos, the neighbourhood, led zeppelin, nirvana, amber run, florence + the machine, flor, novo amor, of monsters and men, the shakes, wallows and others i am forgetting 

Favorite solo artists: hozier, mitski, jaymes young, birdy, billie marten, aquilo, bon iver, lana del rey and a lot more i am DEFINITELY forgetting oof

Song stuck in my head: Hot Blood by kaleo

Last movie: i think. oh god i think it was when i watched After with grace a couple of weeks ago for their bday sbcjhsc (AS A JOKE)

Last show: s4/5 of SPN, also rewatching s2 of westworld again

When did I create this blog: in october 2020 but i’ve had other blogs before this one

What I post: Supernatural !! sometimes jenmish/cockles but i keep that to a minimum and post it on my side blog @hail-misha instead ((:

Last thing googled: homeofthenutty supernatural (i was looking for s8 screencaps)

Other blogs: oh boy. @hail-misha as i mentioned, @rambleonspn for RO, @rocksalts which is where i keep my fanfic/writing related stuff, @jackclaires is my post limit, and my newest baby @rambleonsam

Do I get asks: yes!! best parts of my day (,:

Why I chose my url: i want cas to keep on ramblin’. no it came to me in a prophetic dream. (it's from led zeppelin's Ramble On + i'm cas coded dbdhsj)

Following: 504 (THE END??)

Followers: [redacted] but oh my god i’m so close to hitting another milestone and it’s freaking me out a little (in a good way!)

Average hours of sleep: ohh no clue. like 5-7?

Lucky number: 9

Instruments: i own a guitar. i can play some piano by ear. i guarantee that i have you beat at the recorder

What am I wearing: my comfy navy sweats, *checks* a navy long sleeve and my college hoodie which is dark grey. the hood is up (^:

Dream trip: i recently read On The Road so i’m itching to explore the US

Favorite food: THATS HARD. my dad makes some mean smoked ribs, but i also really like spaghetti factory's mazithra cheese spaghetti w/ brown butter (my mouth is watering)

Nationality: american :/ lmao

Favorite song: too difficult. but a current favorite is heart shaped box by nirvana?? been stuck in my head all week

Last book read: On The Road by Jack Kerouac

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: easy. Star Trek, Supernatural, PJO

Favorite color: lately? green! or any of the colors on my blog! 

no-pressure tags: @thiscastielhasflown @lesbianovak @casandeans @kara-merlin @dainty-dean @seasononedean @hopeblossom50 <3 i’m not tagging 20 though but anyone who sees this and wants to do it totally can !!

#tag game #not spn #ty for the tag jus! #also if anyone cares to know: #my moon is aries and my rising is cancer #ALSO also sorry for being annoying with the not disclosing follower amt #i dunno i'm just weird about it i'd rather people not care too much or shape opinions over it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #elycore #lmk if bellamy suits me too i'm just curious

[mayibeyoursbanks]

Can you do a fic with JJ and y/n to the song Summer Love by One Direction because y/n went to the Obx just for the summer but they find a way for the group to be together at the end of the summer while y/n goes back to her house? Lol it’s a lot sorry.

I’m so sorry this literally took forever for me to get to- I accidentally deleted everything halfway through writing it😔

But it’s here now! It kinda took its own path but I hope you like it!!!

“Summer Love”

———————————————————————

Memories of the past two months flooded through your mind as you stuffed your suitcase with all of your belongings. It felt as though every T-shirt, swim suit, piece of jewelry, had a different memory attached to it.

You reached for the woven bracelet on your dresser, thinking of the day you first got it.

“Close your eyes babes. We have a present for you,” said Kie. You shook your head, but complied anyway.

“A present? You guys didn’t have to give me anything. You just met me what? Three weeks ago?”

“Don’t be silly. It’s your birthday, of course we got you something. Besides, it’s not even that huge of a deal,” you hear Sarah say from your other side.

You feel something lightweight fall into your outstretched hand and feel the rough, woven texture between your fingers. You smile as you open your eyes to look down at the handmade bracelet. It was made of three colors- yellow, pink, and orange -all intricately interwoven to make a perfectly wrist sized band.

“A friendship bracelet? Just like bit of yours?”

“Well, not just like ours. We made new ones to match.” Sarah held up her wrist to flash a bracelet identical to the one in your hand, and Kie did the same.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Your eyes watered with tears.

“You may not be in the Outer Banks forever, but you will always be apart of our lives, Y/N. I hope you know that”

You smiled to yourself as you tugged the bracelet onto your wrist and reached for the baseball hat that was placed next to it.

It was a scorching hot day, and the sun beat down on you and Pope as you rode Heyward’s boat back across the island. You had volunteered to help him make deliveries to the Figure 8, but under this sun, you were regretting the decision to pass on surfing with the girls.

“Thanks for helping me out again Y/N/N. These deliveries would have taken me all day to do alone.”

“Anytime Heyward. But maybe the next time you need a hand, you could tell me to bring a hat? Or even some sunglasses?” You said this jokingly, but Pope must have noticed your red, sun-kissed face and how you squinted up at him to talk, because then he moved to remove his iconic “Pong” hat and put it on your head, tugging it into place. You smiled gratefully at him, and went back to counting the tips from the day.

When Pope pulled the boat up to the dock, you went to return his hat to him, but he held his hand out.

“Keep it. It looks ten times better on you anyway.” You did a fake gasp and placed your hand in your chest.

“Is this your final gift to me Pope? A memento to remember you by when I finally return to the horrors of the mainland?” Pope just chuckled.

“Well I can’t let you go forgetting me now. Gotta compete with the others. Well except for JJ, he obviously has a spot secured in your heart.” You felt your cheeks blush furiously.

“What is that supposed to mean Heyward?”

“Come on Y/N/N. You guys have acted like an old married couple since we first met you at The Wreck. Even John B can see it.” You looked down at the groceries swinging in your hand as you walked up the dock next to Pope.

“Is it that obvious?”

“As obvious as the capital of Russia.”

You smirked to yourself at the reoccurring memory of yours and Pope’s favorite inside joke, and gently set the hat on the top of the bag.

Then you saw the worn book that was laying under then hat on your dresser, and picked it up to flip through the pages.

You were wondering around the Chateau while you waited for John B to find the keys to the Twinkie. The two of you were supposed to pick up the rest of the Pogues for a drive around the island, but the absent-minded boy had somehow misplaced the most important part of that plan.

As you walked down the hallway, you stopped at a door you recognized as Big John’s office. You had never gone in here because while John B was very open to talking about his dad with you, you had only known him for a month and a half. Going in felt like an overstep before.

You slowly creaked the door open though, and we’re greeted by stacks of books and piles of maps. There was a model ship in one corner, and glove across from it, with a desk covered in even more maps and books in the center of the room.

You walked to the desk and scanned the stacks of books, eyes landing on a light blue book that looked well read. As you picked it up, you ran your fingers over the embossed lettering.

“Searching for the Merchant,” you whispered to yourself. You opened the book with a crap and started fingering through the pages.

“That was his favorite book in this whole office.” You jumper at the familiar sound of your friends voice and slammed the book closed. You were about to apologize to John B but the boy stopped you.

“It’s ok. I come in here all the time.”

“Do you feel closer to him? When you’re in here?”

“In some ways. In others I feel farther than ever.” You watched John B as he stared down the model ship in the corner.

“I never met him, but just from being in here I can tell he was a good man.” A small smile appeared on John B’s face.

“And a good dad.”

“That he was, Y/N/N. That he was.” The two of you stood in silence for a little longer before the boy spoke up again.

“Why don’t you keep that book? You might enjoy it.” You rapidly shook your head.

“John B, I could never. All this stuff is yours to enjoy.”

“Look around Y/N. I obviously have plenty of things to go through when I miss him. Besides, I already had my great adventure. Maybe that book will inspire you to find yours.” You smiled big at your friend, the Pogues’ treasure hunt was the first story they had told you when you hung out at the Chateau for the first time, and you had always craved to have your own similar escapade, minus the life-threatening pirates.

You gently closed the book and tucked it into the side of your suitcase, thinking about the adventure you had this summer with your new best friends. Zipping your the suit case, you tugged it off your bare bed and began to pull it towards your bedroom door. You stopped suddenly at the sight of a long necklace hanging from a nail next to the door. Your treasured shark tooth necklace.

You barely noticed the dock shift under the weight of someone sitting next you, and you didn’t even bother to look up. You know exactly who it was.

“Are you really leaving at the end of the week?”

“I have to JJ. My parents want to go back to the mainland early, and even though I’m 18, I’m definitely not financially independent enough to stay here.”

“Screw money. We’ll find a way. You can stay with Kie. Or Sarah. Or Pope. Or heck, even John B.” You shook your head, trying not to cry.

“This is why I was afraid to tell you guys. I knew there was no getting out of me going home, and now it’s all you guys will focus on.”

“Can you blame us? You became one of our best friends, my best friend, in less than 24 hours. How do you expect us to let you go without a fight.”

“There’s nothing you can do this time JJ, not even the people that uncovered the Royal Merchant.”

“But wha-“ You placed your hand on his knee to signal him to stop talking.

“JJ, can we please not talk about this right now. I may not have as long as I thought, but I want to spend the time I do have making memories. Not wallowing I’m self-pity.” JJ grabbed your hand in his and brought it to his mouth to gently kiss it. He held it to his mouth for a while, and you looked over to him for the first time during this entire conversation. You shifted to face him, and with your free hand you reached for the shark tooth dangling around his neck.

“Now where in the world does a boy like you get a piece like this?” You said, mimicking the very first question you ever asked the boy. JJ chuckled and met your eyes.

“On a great adventure. One with pirates, and gold, and a giant storm. Almost didn’t make it out, but I found this tooth lingering in my battle wounds after I washed up on the sand,” JJ replied in his rip-off Pirates if the Caribbean accent.

“Oh? And what has this tough-as-bones pirate prince been doing since then? Plenty of damsels in distress I assume?” JJ smirked.

“Hundreds. But only one of them has really caught my heart.”

“And what of her? What adventures has she gone on?”

“None yet. But I’m hoping to change that.”

“Ah, a lucky lady she is.”

“Yes, you are.” Your smile faltered. You and JJ had grown very close this past summer, and had even shared an almost-kiss at one time. But you both knew it was pointless trying to explore that, what with you leaving in less than a month.

“JJ?” The boy in front of you smiled and grabbed both of your hands, placing them in his lap so he could hold your face with his.

“You were mine this summer Y/N. And I was yours. Don’t take that away from me, not quite yet.” You nodded, tears threatening to trickle down your cheeks.

“We can’t last long JJ. We’ve both known that for a while.” JJ just shook his head and stared into your eyes even more intensely.

“Y/N. Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you whispered. And it didn’t take another second for JJ to press his lips to yours, and like two perfect harmonies you both moved to close any remaining space in between your bodies, all while you tugged at each other’s lips, hungry to make up for all the chances to do this you took for granted the past two months.

When you two finally broke apart, you rested your forehead against his and smiled when he slid his necklace over his head and onto your neck. You reached up to the tooth and held it in between your fingers, and closed your eyes.

You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and grabbed the necklace, only to stuff it in your back pocket. Wearing it would only remind you about your summer love, but you couldn’t bare to part with it.

Stepping out of your house, you met your dad who grabbed you suitcase from you to put it in the car. He gave you a sympathetic smile while your mom grabbed your shoulder and squeezed past you in the doorway.

Then you heard the familiar growl of a motorbike, and looked down the road to find none other than JJ and Sarah quickly approaching your house. You walked towards them, but you didn’t make it far before Sarah all but tackled you in a bear hug.

“I almost thought you guys were going to let me leave without saying goodbye.”

“We’re not. Letting you leave, that is.”

“Sarah, I don’t have a choice. I can’t afford to live on my own, and my parents have to go back. There’s no way.”

“What if I told you there was.” The look on Sarah’s face was full of determination.

“What do you mean?” Instead of explaining her antics to you, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward your parents.

“Mr. Y/L/N. Mrs. Y/L/N. Your daughter can not leave the Outer Banks. She’s official Pogue property now.” You just shook your head at your best friend, but let her talk.

“But I understand you two need to go back to those forsaken mainlands, so I have a proposition. As you know, my embarrassment of a brother has just gone off to Ohio for...well, I guess you can call it school. He won’t be returning for at least 4 years, and Wheezie and I can’t bare the empty room for that long. However, we’re willing to let Y/N here move in with us, free of charge. And as for the financial independence, the Carreras have a new opening at the Wreck, and I think it would be a good way for Y/N to make some money of her own. I think 4 years is sufficient time to get on her own feet, don’t you think?”

You looked at Sarah in absolute wonder, and when your parents turned their eyes to you, you met them with a determined glare.

“Mom. Dad. You know how much I love it here. You guys said it yourselves every day, I belong here. And I’ve made the best friends I could ever ask for, and I’m more happy than I ever was on the mainland. I’m 18, and this is an opportunity to prove to you that I’m ready to make my own life.”

You’re parents looked at each other, having not said a word this whole time. Your mom was the first to break.

“Well, it is only a 2 hour ferry ride. And I trust the Cameron’s. And your friends.” Your dad smiled at you and chuckled to himself.

“That’s my girl. Of course you can stay.” You gaped at your parents.

“Wait, really?!?! That worked?”

“It may not be the most stable option, but you’re right, you belong here. And being able to stand up and tell us that proves to us that you’re an adult now.”

You’re mom nodded her head in a direction behind you before she spoke, “Besides, it looks like you may be in a good hands here.” You spun around to find JJ, shyly holding his helmet and looking up at you with a small smile. You broke from Sarah’s grip and ran to him, jumping in his arms and pulling your legs around his waist.

JJ held you tightly and spun you around, laughing with you. When he came to a stop, you pulled away to look at him.

“So, what’s our first adventure, my pirate prince?”

“Well, I was thinking...nothing that involves hidden treasure or getting shot at?”

“And what do you propose instead?”

“How about something with sharks?” You heard your dad cough from behind you, and looked to see his eyebrows raised questioningly.

“With secure cages of course.” JJ added nervously.

“Sounds perfect. When do we start?”

“Right now.”

———————————————————————

Tags: @tangledinsparkles @the-crackhead-next-door @pankows-girl @howdyherron @poguemacking @dpaccione

#outer banks #outer banks imagines #obx #obx imagines #jj maybanks #jj maybanks imagines #jj x reader #obx jj #rudy #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy obx #my writing #summer love #1D #one direction #storytime with emma

[breesays]

THE Reflective Blog

Of COURSE I get food poisoning on my birthday. At breakfast! I won't get into detail but let the record reflect. 

It's a weird year. And I love birthday parties and themes but yo, I cannot get behind the zoom festivities. Catch ups and webinars, sure. Parties? Nah, son. Furthermore, we are quarantining so we can spend Christmas with my NEW BABY NIECE. Priorities. 

But, I have turned FORTY.  I'm not one of those people who laments about getting old. I believe words have a lot of power, so even joking about "falling apart" holds weight with the universe. Much of my unresolved anger at my Dad is about him  being “close to death” for decades. Lamenting. Warning. Sometimes, even wallowing. No "Carpe Diem." An external locus of control. 

All my mom's friends outed me on FB. "Happy 40th!" Ok, well, like only like a third of my friends knew my age before you posted that but thanks. I've been a fairly late bloomer in most aspects of my life--relationships, reading (why read chapter books when the others come with illustrations?), college, career--although marriage and having a kid at latelate-thirties feels on par for Los Angeles, eh?

Interview question I would never ask: Do you feel older? LTRR: (making that abbreviation a thing) The food poisoning may have altered this answer but Tim got it too and he is a fresh-faced 33.

All I really feel is grateful. I'm not a super ambitious person. When I was younger (youngest) I started eliminating careers before anything else--no doctor, no dentist, no cop (no blood/guts). I wanted to be a teacher until I realized they make no money. But I taught some things--PeeWee sports, TurboKick, kids bootcamp. 

At some point I just started saying "I just want to be myself, and get paid for it."  And that happened! The writing / editing / hosting combo with occasional travel and a rental wardrobe was IT. I wrote my own questions, wrote my own scripts. I found myself (my face) autoplaying while looking up articles on Rolling Stone and Consequence of Sound. 

My bucket list items have been particular and weird. But I was an embedded blogger on WARPED TOUR. In 2008! I woke up to hearing The Academy Is... sound checking. It was sweaty and grueling and incredible. AND I was on the entire Bamboozle Roadshow 2010 tour, which no one remembers but it was All Time Low and Third Eye Blind (yep) and Good Charlotte and I really wanted them to play "Festival Song" but they never did.

I got to follow the trajectory of a band I loved so much AND become friends with them. It was all luck and kindness, but I think you know a lot of shitbirds have been discovered within the “scene.” I am so grateful to have grown up with such good guys. 

(Jack Barakat is in TWO of your pictures, OK?)

I've interviewed so many interesting and inspiring people. Brandon Boyd. Emily Haines. Aaron Bruno. Paramore. Michael Franti. Kathy Griffin. Tom Dumont. Andrew WK. Pete Wentz. Soupy. Alison Mosshart. My Chemical Romance. Korn. The Pixies. Ellen Page. KT Tunstall. K Flay. All Time Low, who perpetually derail my interviews. This is by no means a comprehensive list.

I've worked with Leslie Simon and Tony Pierce and Karina Kogan and Allan MacDonell and Jennifer Schwartz and Yasi Salek (twice!) and Mark Oshiro and Elise Varnell and 5SF. I’ve had interns who became good friends.

I've been to SXSW and Sasquatch and Coachella and Bonnaroo and it was my job! 

I’ve thrown some pretty great themed parties. The proof is in the pics.

I have a husband who looks like Keanu Reeves and loves to cook, two sweet adopted cats who entertain and provide emotional support daily and a painfully adorable son who motivates me to do rediscover the world AND stay silly. 

I have books I have internet I have a mom's club I have compassionate friends and incredible neighbors. I'm healthy I'm agile I'm resourceful.

#thisis40

[oboevallis]

callback

“Scout, it’ll help calm your nerves. You shouldn’t go in on an empty stomach.” Amelia kept one hand on the steering wheel and was handing her son a banana in another.

“Fine.” Scout reluctantly took the banana. He then looked to the digital clock in the cars dashboard. “We’re going to be late.”

“I promise we’re not going to be late. We left earlier than we had to. You’ll have plenty of time to find your audition room and warm-up. I think you should take a couple of deep breaths.” Amelia told her son, starting to get worried over how worked up her son was getting.

“Mom this is a big deal! How are you not freaking out!” Scout asked.

“I know how much this means to you. Your gonna do amazing. I’m probably not freaking out though because I’m not the one auditioning.” His mother tried to joke, but it didn’t seem to calm the boys nerves. “Okay, you’ve prepared for this. Your ready, you’ve got this. Alrighty you ready to go in?” She asked while parking the car. Only receiving a nod from her son in response.

_______________________________________________

“Poco a poco”

“Little by little.” Scout answered his mother who was quizzing him on his music terms before his audition.

“Decrescendo”

“Gradually softer.” Scout said after biting down the last of his nails.

“Scout, let’s not bite our nails okay? You’ve got this.” Amelia kindly smiled to her son. She watched him check the time on his watch.

“Okay, well I should head to the audition room.” Scout said collecting his oboe, audition ticket, and solo.

“Want me to come with you? I’ll wait outside.”

“I’m good.” Scout affirmed, walking away.

“Good Luck!” Amelia said, hoping her son heard her over the other students warming up.

She watched her son exit the cafeteria, wishing he would’ve let her come with him.

________________________________________________

“How’d it go?” Amelia enthusiastically asked as her son came up to her, grabbing the case from her hands and quickly swabbing his instrument and putting it away. He quickly went towards the exit, without saying a word to his mother. “Scout what happened?” Her son slammed the door of the car after he got in, and burst into tears.

“I did terrible.” Scout said in between tears.

“Scout, I’m sure you did amazing. Your always too hard on yourself.”

“No, I’m serious this was absolutely terrible.”

“It’s never as bad as it seems, and it was your first audition.”

“And my last.” Scout said with his head in between his hands.

“Scout, it was your first audition. Your gonna have so many more. You haven’t even gotten the results or feedback yet.” Amelia tried to rationalize with her son, but he just seemed to think he failed. She was starting to wish she went with her son, so she could’ve listened through the door and would’ve known if her son was overreacting or not.

________________________________________________

“Hey, how’d Scouts audition go?” Link asked as he walked over to his wife who was filling out paperwork at their kitchens island.

“He seems to think he failed, he’s upstairs in his room wallowing. I tried to reason with him, I think he’ll calm down once the results are out.”

“Did he do bad?” Link asked biting into an apple.

“I don’t know he wouldn’t let me come with him. Your sons not very good at accepting failure.”

“Oh he’s my son now?” Link smirked. “But really do you think he failed? I mean we hear him practicing all the time and he sounds good.”

“I know some people just crack under the pressure and mess up. I don’t know if he did or not, he was crying once he got into the car. And we barley ever see that boy cry.”

“When do the results come out?” Link asked sitting down next to his wife.

“An hour, but thats just who got Allstate callbacks. So he still could’ve made it into the region band, and he won’t get back feedback until a week.”

“Mkay. I’m gonna go up and talk to him.” Link said making his way to their sons room. “What’s up champ.”

“Nothing.” Scout replied burrowing further under the covers.

“You have to learn in life everyone fails.” Link started sitting down on his sons bed.

“Dad, I know.”

“Your not gonna succeed in everything. And you just gotta learn that.”

“Wait, did the results come out. Did I fail?” Scout asked abruptly sitting up.

“No, I don’t know yet. Your mom said they come out in an hour. And it’s not failing if you don’t make it. It just means there was someone better.”

“I know, but-“ Link stooped his son.

“No, stop. Did you do everything you could to prepare?”

“Of course.”

“Then you didn’t fail. I would say failing is if you went in there and hadn’t practiced or was prepared. Wouldn’t you?” Scout nodded in response. “You didn’t fail anything, no matter what the scores or placements are. This isn’t the end of the world.”

“I know, but I put everything I had into this. And I just really want to make Allstate.”

“You did the best you could, the rest is out of your hands. You still have what, 6 years to make Allstate?” Scout nodded. “Okay, so you’ll be okay with whatever the results say?”

“Yeah.” Scout nodded. “I’m sorry if I overreacted and was being dramatic.”

“It’s fine, your passionate about this. You just can’t let it get to you when you do poorly.”

“I know. I just like everything to be perfect.”

“Just like your mom.” Link chuckled, the door than abruptly opened.

“You little brat, you got a callback.” Amelia cheerfully said coming into the room, laptop in hand.

“What?! Really?!” Scout asked shocked.

“Yeah look.” Amelia handed her son the laptop.

“Oh my god, I thought I bombed that audition. I mean my low notes weren’t responsive and I butchered my chromatic scale.” Scout said in shock looking at the callback list.

“Congratulations.” Link smiled at his son, pulling down his wife to come sit with them on their sons bed.

“I actually did it!” Scout smiled. “I don’t think you guys understand, I didn’t even do that great.”

“Well, it wasn’t as bad as you thought.” Amelia laughed.

“I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“It’s okay, I probably would’ve reacted the same.” Amelia smiled at her son, proud of his accomplishment.

“Thank you guys, for supporting me.” Scout smiled looking down at his name on the callback sheet.

im not sure if anyone likes the kid scout stories, or oboe kid scout stories but i enjoy writing them, i had an audition today and it reminded me of my very first audition which is based off of this, i tend to do better in my auditions when ive had a banana prior and have cried in my car afterwards

#baby amelink #atticus lincoln #amelink #amelia shepherd #greysanatomy #greys fanfic #oboe #greys anatomy fanfic

[barbiehandlrr]

prompt: morgan being a little jealous of cassie getting to spend all this time with her dad

Aren’t weddings supposed to be happy? Morgan thought as she sipped her drink. 

The nine year old sighed as she took in her surroundings. Truthfully, everyone else seemed happy - she was pretty sure she was the only one wallowing in her misery. Cassie looked absolutely stunning in her long, lacy wedding gown; Morgan could have sworn she was glowing. 

(She heard Aunt Hope and Aunt Maggie say that it was probably the pregnancy hormones. Her own mother groaned and complained about looking “greasy and disgusting for the entire nine months”.)

Not that Cassie and Peter were only getting married because of what they were affectionately calling their “happy surprise” - Aunt May knew that Peter would marry Cassie before he did. It’d been a long time coming, and Morgan adored Cassie and Peter. They were her older siblings in every way that mattered, and when they finally got together, Morgan may or may not have cried.

Morgan was pretty proud of herself. She’d held it together when Uncle Jim and Uncle Scott walked Cassie down the aisle, and again as her big brother and Cassie said their vows. It got a little harder during the speeches, especially when Uncle Scott cried and talked about how happy he was seeing “his Peanut” grow up and start her own family. Morgan didn’t like the feelings that churned in her gut as she listened - like she’d eaten something bad for lunch, only she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and lunch hadn’t been served yet. But she acted as normal as possible.

These feelings were no stranger to her.

It would be fine as long as Cassie and Uncle Scott stayed away from each other - selfish, Morgan knew, but she couldn’t stand it. And then came the part Mom had warned her about weeks ago. The part Morgan dreaded most.

Just do it. Rip it off like a band aid.

The music started and Morgan squirmed in her seat. Cassie and Uncle Scott took their positions in the center of the dance floor. If Morgan squinted, she could see tears already building up in Uncle Scott’s eyes, and she doubted that Cassie’s were dry.

The father daughter dance.

In my daughter’s eyes, I am a hero. I am strong and wise, and I know no fear.

The two on the dance floor moved seamlessly, and Morgan’s lower lip trembled dangerously. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry today. Crying always sent her to a dark place, one she tried to avoid at all costs. But in this moment, watching Cassie with her Daddy, all she could think about was the one person she simultaneously loved and hated more than anything.

Tony Stark.

Savior of the universe.

Daddy.

Morgan didn’t have many memories of her father. They came in flashes, and Morgan wondered if most of them were even real. She remembered the two of them sitting in her bedroom eating juice pops, him singing softly to her in another language, him kissing her goodbye as he left to undo what Mom calls the Decimation. 

She remembered the funeral, Mom and Uncle Rhodey sobbing, the world brimming with more people than she was used to. It frightened her. She wanted her Daddy to come help her, save her, but Mom said he was dead and that he couldn’t come back. 

Morgan figured it out pretty quickly. Daddy didn’t come back, but millions of people did. He’d left her for those people, people she didn’t know and never wanted to get to know. They were more important than her.

That realization didn’t stop her from yearning desperately for her father, though. It caught her off wind whenever she caught a glimpse of an Iron Man portrait or statue, when the memorials came around every year, when she learned about him in school last year, and…

And whenever she saw Cassie and her own daddy.

Morgan didn’t know all the details, but she did know that Uncle Scott went to prison when Cassie was little. She wasn’t supposed to hear it, but adults could be so loud sometimes. She also knew that Cassie lost her daddy in the Decimation, too.

Only he escaped from what Aunt Hope and Uncle Scott called the Quantum Realm.

Cassie’s daddy came back to her.

Morgan’s didn’t.

Morgan’s daddy left her all alone, and she’d never get a special dance with him. He wouldn’t miraculously appear again and watch her graduate high school, go to college, start a career or a family. He’d never tell her a dumb Dad Joke like the ones Uncle Scott told Cassie. He wouldn’t braid her hair when she was sick or take her on fun trips, or teach her everything he knew about being a hero.

Cassie got all that and more, while Morgan was stuck with memorials, statues, and her family’s memories. Why didn’t Morgan deserve to have her father? What made Cassie so special?

Morgan hated this feeling, this deep seated jealousy and anger. Cassie deserved her dad. 

But didn’t Morgan, too?

The room erupted in applause and cheers, and Morgan halfheartedly joined them, breathing a sigh of relief as she watched Cassie and Uncle Scott hug, both their shoulders shaking slightly. 

The hard part was over. Morgan would be fine.

After all, she always was.

#TWO MONTHS LATER HERE WE GO LOL #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #morgan stark #cassie lang #scott lang #iron fam #ant fam #the families are close bc i Said So #marvel rarepair #rarepair #my fic #my writing #marvel #mcu fanfiction #tony stark

[alediazpizarro]

Senior Soundtrack

Music is a love language. Lo he tuiteado, lo he dicho, y —con ustedes— lo he vivido. Parte de mis 7 años en ASF ha sido la música que he compartido: canciones que son intereses en común, recomendaciones, o hasta tracks de obras de teatro que nunca voy a borrar de mi memoria. After all, de eso se trata la música en parte: de acordarse. Y sepan que cada vez que oiga una de las canciones en esta lista, va junto con su recuerdo. A todos ustedes, de todo corazón, gracias. No sé que sería de mi vida sin ustedes.

Les dejo la playlist que construyeron conmigo, whether you knew it or not, de 2014 para acá.

PS: si no aparece su nombre en esta lista de canciones, lo único que quiere decir es que we have yet to share a song. Los adoro a todos. 

Abarca

Burn · Lin Manuel Miranda You have the voice of an angel, and every time I think of this song I no longer hear it in Philippa Soo’s voice, but in yours.

Tuyo · Rodrigo Amarante Dancing Kermit.

Alexander

"Eungenio” Salvador Dalí · Mecano We love the music, hate the lyrics.

Na Na Na · My Chemical Romance Debate bus trips. Blasting it from the backseat, with Nesquik and cold pasta at hand.

I’m Not Okay · My Chemical Romance “¿Estos son los Rolling Stones?”

Being Alive · Stephen Sondheim Life’s dream: be Bobby. Not literally. That would suck.

If I Could Tell Her · Benj Pasek & Justin Paul You once said this is the song you would dedicate to me. Though I think we’ve grown past that, I will always remember how warm it made me feel when you said it.

Ana

Isle of Flightless Birds · Twenty One Pilots Ya sé que me odias, pero DARARAAAARAAA

I’m Low on Gas and You Need a Jacket · Pierce The Veil El concierto que más he disfrutado en mi vida (and that’s saying a lot), y parte de por qué fue porque fui contigo. Lloramos en esta canción y en el video que grabé con mi horrible teléfono se oye lo feo que cantamos. 

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea · Neutral Milk Hotel De un Tiktok (de miles) que me mandaste pero de los pocos que sí abrí.

Numb · Linkin Park WAWAWAWAWAWA 

Anna

Fashionista · Jimmy James Really obscure pre-middle school memory, pero every time it gets stuck in my head me acuerdo de ver el lyrics video en el ballet y la miss Celia regañándonos.

Ari

Life Itself · Glass Animals It slaps. Plus, concert.

Remember When · Wallows My favorite song in my “Drive” playlist, cada vez que sale I remember sitting in the backseat of your dad’s car and you turning the volume up so we could drive over the Reforma speed limit with this blasting.

The Cave of Two Lovers · That LSD guy from Avatar SECRET TUNNEL!!!!!!!! SECRET TUNNEL!!!! THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN!!!! SECRET SECRET SECRET SECRET TUNNEEEEEEEL!!!! (No Spotify version, so here’s the surf rock cover.)

Covarrubias

Toxic · A Static Lullaby Flashbacks a clase de Ms. Miranda en 7º.

Back to Black · Amy Winehouse No puedo oír esta canción sin acordarme de tu audición para Grease. Rizzo could-have-been?

Diana

The Adults Are Talking · The Strokes Es chill yet vaguely nostalgic Diana vibes to the max.

Stuck on the Puzzle · Alex Turner Thank you for liking Alex Turner. :`)

Dark Red · Steve Lacy Memorias de una tarde que pasamos armando Repentinos con una mini guillotina y pláticas de Dinamarca.

Diego

Thinking of a Place · The War on Drugs La primera que me recomendaste, y la mejor para manejar de noche.

Vissi d’Arte · Giacomo Puccini No creo que hubiera visto Tosca si no me la hubieras recomendado. Qué bueno que lo hiciste, porque esta aria se volvió de mis favoritas. 

Money · Pink Floyd Alguna vez jugamos music trivia en el salón de Stearns y me acuerdo de que yo todavía no la ubicaba pero tú la adivinaste sin problema. Years later, eres la persona que sé que le gusta Pink Floyd tanto como a mí. Lástima de Roger. :(

Layla · Derek & The Dominoes Este año tuve un classic rock renaissance que empezó, you guessed it, cuando me recomendaste esta. Clapton no falla.

Klavierkonzert Nr. 21, No. 2 “Andante” · Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart También me hiciste escuchar mucha más música clásica de la que conocía, y aprendí a disfrutarla. Esta sigue siendo mi favorita.

Sara · Fleetwood Mac De las pocas de Fleetwood Mac que no conocía pero que me recomendaste en uno de esos exchanges a las 12 am y que oí con audífonos in the dark.

Resguardum Ether · León Larregui También de las pocas de este cuate que nunca había oído pero que se volvió de mis favoritas.

Fer

Good Life · OneRepublic Buenas vibes.

Can’t Fight This Feeling · REO Speedwagon Horton --> improvised conciertos en el baño.

What the Heck I Gotta Do · Lin Manuel Miranda Más conciertos de regadera/vestidor en lo que nos arreglamos juntas.

Beth · KISS El club Glee y el karaoke en el Wii.

Miss Jackson · Panic! At The Disco No lo vas a admitir, pero te gusta mi música y lo sabes. Anytime que dudas, sólo es cuestión de ponerte esta.

The Man · The Killers Nada como nuestros buenos trips manejando de noche.

Fernando

The Bad Touch · Bloodhound Gang You and me, baby, we ain’t nothing but mammals...

EugeRiq

This Life · Vampire Weekend Siempre que la oigo pienso en ti.

I Wear Glasses · Mating Ritual Me la recomendaste en alguna de mis countless Close Friends stories.

Jose

I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) · The Proclaimers Picture it: a gaggle of eight or so kids marching around Cumbres de Santa Fe loudly screaming this in a terrible Scottish accent after watching a horror movie.

Somebody Else · Clones of Clones A bop!

Ocean Man · Ween I will only say four words: Lord of the Flies.

Lauro

Desencuentro · Residente ft. Soko Clases de Domínguez contigo were always lovely. Plus, who could forget the iconic “NO HAY SEÑAL”?

I Don’t Know How to Love · The Drums Otra de cuando we were still developing our own music tastes.

Luz

Papaoutai · Stromae De cuando estábamos haciendo Haiti research and really wanted to get into the francophone mindset.

Moonlight Sonata · Ludwig Van Beethoven Those Knowledge Bowl kids never saw it coming.

Beware of the Boys (Mundian To Bach Ke) · Panjabi MC Memoria tangible de Vancouver: cuando pusiste esta en el restaurante indio al que fuimos.

Madison

I Know Things Now · Stephen Sondheim No sé cuántas veces me ayudaste a ensayar esta canción. Me ayudaste muchísimo todo Into the Woods, y desde ahí en 6º sé que te tengo como amiga.

Mare

Rumour Has It · Adele ¿Te acuerdas del proyecto que hicimos de Mr. Kamm en 7º estilo “fleas on rats”? Literal después de que usamos esta canción ya no puedo cantar las lyrics de la original.

Mariana

Bitter Sweet Symphony · The Verve La oíamos dizque “para concentrarnos” en el salón de Austin.

Pas de Quatre from Swan Lake · Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky De cuando te fui a ver bailar ballet con Fran. :)

Tú y Yo Somos Uno Mismo · Timbiriche EL SOL

Manu

Fly Away · Laid Back The moment you played this at Montero’s party you literally made everyone be vibing. It’s like the Fairy Godmother of Chill. That was also the day you stopped being “Manu from TEDx” and were just “Manu” there on. Probably ‘cause you appreciated my ability to drive a stick. :`)

MDRH

Choke · I Don’t Know How But They Found Me I wouldn’t like this Dallon spinoff as much as I do without you. It’s like emo, but evolved, mature— like you. In a good, compliment-y way.

Oceans · Frank Iero Remember when we were gonna see him in concert? :( Thanks for being the only person with whom I can enjoy weird throaty emo screamy shit. At least the guitar is good.

House of Wolves · My Chemical Romance Something about the aggressive guitar and fast pace of this song has always reminded me of you.

Mich

Tear in my Heart · Twenty One Pilots Your Koreaboo initiation before you even knew it.

The Kids Aren’t Alright · Fall Out Boy Remember the lyrics from this I wrote as a dedication in your eighth grade yearbook? I meant them. 

I Write Sins Not Tragedies · Panic! At The Disco I CHIME IN—

She’s My Winona · Fall Out Boy Something about Folie à Deux, and especially about this song, always carries a you vibe.

Perfect · Simple Plan From when you got angsty and Montes called you out on it. Then it became a bit of a joke.

One of THOSE Nights · The Cab Back in seventh grade, this was the most ambitious crossover ever attempted. 

Montse

I Want To Hold Your Hand · The Beatles De cuando saturamos la rockola del Johnny Rocket’s con 15 canciones y pensaron que no servía. But we knew. Plus, a really fun Snapchat video de nosotras bajando las escaleras a tambos y aplausos con esta canción.

Something · The Beatles Too bad Eric Clapton stole George Harrison’s wife.

I Am the Walrus · The Beatles Want to feel what it’s like to do acid without actually doing it? Play this song on Rock Band!

Don’t You (Forget About Me) · Simple Minds De la única pijamada que me han dejado hacer, donde vimos tu película favorita. An unforgettable night with an unforgettable person.

Pato

Hit the Back · King Princess The best experience of my life was one I’m glad I shared with you. Still want to murder those Rock Lobster loiterers though— blocked us from KP. >:(

Just the Same · Bruno Major I had never heard of him, but to be next to you enjoying him, with our KP t-shirts in my bag and just-refilled water bottles, was one of the highlights of my night.

The Louvre · Lorde Remember when we played Melodrama in your bedroom? This is the song that I feel best captivates that: shoes on the floor, laying softly on the bed, sunlight streaming in through the window, the vinyl spinning, and a general feeling of levity.

No You Girls · Franz Ferdinand Friendly reminder of literally the worst physical experience of our lives. :))))

The Other Side of Paradise · Glass Animals The first GA song I ever showed you, which is a nice chain thing because it’s the first GA song I ever listened to that Jordan showed me. And a birthday vinyl we played in your room.

Romina

The Only Thing · Sufjan Stevens This entire album is your personality. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.

Futile Devices · Sufjan Stevens Same as above. It’s not your fault you’re a Sufjan Suf-stan. But every time I listen to Sufjan I remember you playing him at the Open Mic. That’s a very nice feeling.

Mama · My Chemical Romance Indisputably goes HARD and hey what are mommy issues without a little angst/general gender confusion?

Sam

Goodie Bag · Still Woozy El día del college fair que estuvimos juntas al principio y conocimos a la USC rep que nos cagó traías tu camisa de Still Woozy. Since then, el grupo me recuerda a ti.

Vale

Heart of Glass · Miley Cyrus Tú viviste esta out-of-body transcendental experience al mismo tiempo que yo, el día de mi cena. 

Don’t Stop · Fleetwood Mac Espero que ya te guste Rumours completo. :)

Yuhis

Chiquitita · ABBA I didn’t know you could sing. After listening to you sing this one (and almost crying), I wondered why you didn’t do it more often.

Beauty School Dropout · Frankie Avalon I am sorry pero literal I can only think of this song in your voice. Iconic!

Gracias por todo. Los quiero. Los voy a extrañar.

[jollycastaway]

Tagged by @apretentioushipster

Rules: Answer these questions and tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better!

Nickname: My nickname is Jacky but when I was younger my cousin kept calling me Jack-in-the-box so now my family and friends call me Jack. I’m so glad they dropped the “in the box” part lol. 

Zodiac: Cancer 

Height: 5′5

Time: 7:12 pm

Favorite Band/ Artist: Wallows 

Song stuck in my head: The SVTFOE theme song

The last movie I saw:  My hero academia: Two heroes but I don't feel like counting it because it was in really poor quality and I didn’t get to experience it at its best :( BUT FROM WHAT I SAW IT IS GREAT! AND IM REALLY EXCITED TO SEE IT AGAIN AND REALLY ENJOY IT!

Last thing I googled: Amalgamation. I saw a post that used that word and I didn’t know what it meant

Other blogs: Nope 

Do I get asks: :(  no 

Why did I choose this username: I remember that during the time I was trying to give this blog a very cool username, I was obsessed with the song Castaway by 5SOS and I put castaway in a username generator and Jollycastaway was born!

Following: 364

Average amount of sleep: 7-9ish hours but still tired

Lucky number: 17

What am I wearing: An oversized shirt that has a duck on it and black leggings 

Dream Job: I want to be a criminologist or a Guidance counselor

Dream Trip: France 

Instruments you play: I'm learning Keyboard 

Eye color: Brown 

Hair color: Dark Brown 

Describe Your aesthetic: Vintagey, dad jokes, Bright colors, springtime and dresses like a mom but a cool mom  - according to my friends because I had no idea how to describe myself lol 

Languages you speak: English and Spanish 

Most Iconic Song: I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor.

 OMG so when I was little we had a plastic talking fish on our wall that sung this song and for the longest time I called it the fish song 

Random Fact: I absolutely love the enemies turned to lovers trope. I love reading when both characters think the other person is gross and then they start to develop feelings for each other BUT they don’t know they have feelings for their enemy so its a big ball of confusion and I LOVE IT!

tagging- @heizerux @silvers-bell @marrienelette @marinettegarbage 

@ anyone who wants to participate just tag me so I can see it��

#get to know me #apretentioushipster #im a helpless romantic too #i love me some fluff #googling Kacchako fanart is me too

[rdale-fics--fuck]

Lucky - FP Jones x reader | Sweet Pea x reader

Request: Can you write a fp one where the reader tries to get closer to him but he tells her she's too young for him and he's not interested so when she starts dating sweetpea he thinks she's trying to make him jealous but she's falling for pea and fp beings to regret his chance with her

Word count: 2837

Warnings: cursing, some angst, age gap at some point, implied sex

A/N: Loved this request! also not very edited oops ily

Forsythe Pendleton Jones, the second. A man you had admired since you were five. The man who you held in your heart since you were thirteen. Back then, it was a small crush, one nearly every girl had experienced at some point. Normally, that crush would dissipate quickly, but yours never did. The thought of pursuing your long time crush had never passed your mind until you were eighteen and a senior at Southside High. You had been a serpent for three years, following in your father’s footsteps much to the dismay of your mother. Your best friends were Toni Topaz, Sweet Pea and Fangs Fogarty, you were the Southsides ‘core four’ who truly just caused trouble and kept the life in the town. When Jughead came along, he slipped into the group with a struggle since Sweet Pea wasn’t a huge fan, but he eventually was welcomed into your group. Jughead was a great guy, but you felt uncomfortable being close to him when you had a crush on his dad. Yet, you were well aware you would either have to get over the crush, or just let your feelings out.

Today was that day, you were going to Jughead’s after school, and the gang was going to the quarry after, and you would have enough time to hang back and talk to FP alone. During your last class, you felt unbelievably nervous, scratching your arm out of habit until your skin was bright red.

“Yo, (y/n), are you good?” Toni asked, grabbing your hand to stop the scratching.

“Y-yeah, thanks..” You muttered, putting your class materials away. “We still going to Jones’ trailer after this?”

Toni ignored the sudden change in subject and decided to leave it alone, “yeah, us two are going to meet at his place and then we can ride to the quarry and meet up with Fogarty and Sweet Pea.”

You nodded as you listened to the plans for the night and smiled tightly when the bell rang. You rushed out of the school and to your bike, tossing your bag in the saddlebag, and placing your helmet on. You started your bike and drove off to Jughead’s trailer. You arrived about the same time as Topaz and Jughead and you kicked your kickstand down, hanging your helmet on your handlebar. Jughead led the two of you inside and you bit your lip nervously when you noticed FP’s motorcycle was home, which meant he was home as well. As you entered, you sat down on the couch and sighed.

“Do either of you want anything to drink?” Jughead offered, going to the kitchen.

“Sure, could I have a water, Jug?” You asked, resting your hand over the red, heated patch of skin on your arm. You had always had a habit of scratching your arm when you were nervous. You heard Jughead call your name and you turned and caught the water bottle he threw in your direction. “Thanks, Jones,”

You sipped your water contently until you heard heavy footsteps approach the three of you and you looked over to see FP. He was probably sleeping, considering he looked like he just rolled out of bed. “You didn’t tell me your friends were coming over, Jug.”

“We’re actually heading out in a few minutes,” He interjected and you bit your lip, taking the time to check FP out. He had taken a nap in a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt with a flannel tossed over top.

“M’kay, just call me later so I know you’re alive,” Jughead nodded and grabbed his jacket and you felt a lump in your throat as you tried to think of a lie so you could buy yourself time alone.

“Actually, I might stay for a few, I have a few questions about my bike, I think your dad will be able to help,” You told Jughead, feeling your nerves increase by the second.

“Sure, sure. Meet us there, (y/n/n).” Jughead said as he tugged his jacket on, exiting the trailer with Toni.

You sighed and gently scratched at your arm and looked at FP. “You’re a terrible liar. I don’t know how Jughead didn’t catch that,” FP said with a chuckle, sitting next to you. “What’s going on? Do you not want to go out with them?” He questioned, nudging you lightly with his shoulder.

“I-well no, I do, I just..” You began but you couldn’t finish your sentence. Your stomach was in knots, your chest felt tight. This was it, you either confessed or forever hold your peace. He looked at you expectantly and you sighed, putting your head in your hands. “Just- I like you, a lot. And it’s not normal, FP. It’s not just a school-girl crush, I genuinely like you, and I care about you… I don’t know what to do.” You spouted off into your hands and you didn’t feel any better. The atmosphere just felt more tense after you confessed your feelings for the older man.

The room was silent for what felt like hours, even though it was mere minutes. “(y/n), you’re a teenager. I’m Jughead’s dad, hell, I’m old enough to be your dad.” You nodded and looked at him sadly and pressed your lips on his and pulled away when he sat still. “It’s wrong, (y/n). What you should do is find someone your age. This isn’t okay… Why don’t you go be with your friends,”

You held back your tears as you felt your heart break, standing up and exiting the trailer, defeated. WIth your helmet on, your tears struggled to trail down your face and you shook your head. You wouldn’t be able to make it to the quarry like this. You started the bike, kicked the kickstand up and rode the short way home. Once you arrived home, you felt relieved when you noticed a lack of cars, which meant your mother wasn’t home. You went inside and tossed your helmet and shoes off at the door and quickly moved to your room, laying down and crying over your first heartbreak. You felt your phone vibrate and you noticed it was Toni.

“Hey, (y/n/n), are you coming?”

“U-uh, no, I actually feel really sick… like I might vomit,” You weren’t completely lying, after having that horrific conversation, you felt like you might throw up your insides.

“Oh, okay. How about one of us stops by later?”

You felt obligated to accept, these were your best friends, “s-sure… have fun,” you said barely above a whisper before hanging up.

Toni had stopped by later that night and held you while you cried. She thought you were just crying from being sick, and you let her believe that.

For weeks you were sad and you became very distant with your friends, staying home and wallowing in your sorrows. They had become worried with you and decided to take you out to the Whyte Wyrm to comfort you.

“Topaz, I really don’t want to go-” you began until Toni cut you off.

“And I don’t care, you’re stuck inside moping around about something you can’t tell your best friends. You need to get out, (y/n),”

You rolled your eyes and nodded, standing up as Toni searched your closet for a outfit. As she reached the end, she grabbed a short skirt you never wore and smiled. “You’re wearing this,” She said, tossing it toward you with a cropped black band tee. You chuckled and changed into the outfit. You then slipped on black knee-high stockings and high heeled chunky boots. “Perfect,”

You blushed when you looked at your reflection. You hadn’t dressed like this in a long while, but you loved it. Your makeup had been done earlier since you had to hide your puffy eyes while you were at school. “Let’s go,” Toni grabbed your hand and dragged you out of your house. She was making you ride with her on her bike so you couldn’t ditch her later. You hopped on the back of her bike and she took you to the Wyrm. When you reached the bar, you felt sick. It was almost impossible you wouldn’t see FP tonight. You got off the bike and Toni frowned. “What’s wrong? Lighten up, (y/n/n),” She said gently rubbing her hand up and down on your back before leading you inside the familiar bar.

As you entered, Toni took you to your three other friends and you smiled weakly. Sweet Pea smiled, “welcome back, princess,” he joked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You normally would ignore his flirting, but you enjoyed it at the moment. Leaning into his body, you listened to your friends as they began talking as they normally would. You felt relaxed and began to feel happier until you noticed FP from across the room. You frowned and looked up at Sweet Pea, biting your lip nervously before moving closer to him than before. “What’s going on, princess, finally falling for me?” He joked and flashed you a smile. You rolled your eyes and smiled back, shaking your head playfully.

“No way in hell, sweets,”

“You sure about that, princess? I bet I could prove you wrong,”

Normally, you would stop that there and go back to whatever you were doing, but you felt compelled to make FP jealous, make him know what he was missing. “Okay, then prove it,” The next moments consisted of his lips on yours, kissing you passionately and then abruptly pulling away. “I might need a bit more convincing,” You winked.

“Nope, nope, no more convincing here, this is turning into porn,” Jughead stopped the two of you and shot you a look of confusion. “Also, you’re into Sweet Pea, like our  Sweet Pea?” You shrugged and chuckled, Sweet Pea had always flirted with you, and the whole group found it hilarious since you never returned the attention. Yet, now that you were heartbroken, you were willing to delve deeper into his feelings.

Topaz laughed with Fangs, “I always knew you two would end up together at some point, you always had a thing ever since we were little.” You blushed and looked down. The two of you had just kissed, not asked each other out or gone on dates, just kissed. You slipped a glance over to FP and sighed since he seemed unphased. Unbeknownst to you, FP was pissed. He felt unusually jealous as you kissed Sweet Pea but he couldn’t bring himself to act on his emotions.

“Hey, let’s go dance,” you suggested, tugging on Sweet Pea’s jacket lightly. He smirked and nodded, walking with you to where other people had been dancing. You jokingly danced around to the song playing, laughing while he just watched you make a fool of yourself. You hadn’t felt happy since you had confessed your feeling for FP. The next song began to play and you clapped since you loved the song. When the beat dropped, you bent your knees and playfully twerked, your ass toward him as you did so. You giggled when he moved closer to you and you straightened up until he pulled your body against his and you began to grind on him. “That what you wanted, Pea?” you asked teasingly, swaying your hips. You didn’t receive a reply but you knew he was enjoying it and you stopped when the song stopped. You continued to playfully dance with him for a few songs before you decided to go back and join your friends again. Little did you know, as you danced with him, FP was watching with intensity, jealousy burning inside of him as he watched you. He was aware he was the one who denied your feelings, but it was for the best. At least he thought it was, but now, not so much.

“I think I just watched porn, straight up porn, starring my best friends.” Jughead said, shaking his head in disgust as you both sat down.

“Oops,” You said simply and shrugged, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. After a few hours, you covered your mouth as you yawned, “honestly, it’s getting pretty late. Topaz, want to take me back?”

“I could take you home, princess,” Sweet Pea offered and you nodded.

“Sure, that good with you, Toni?” You waited until she nodded and you smiled, walking out of the bar with Sweet Pea, leaving your friends behind, along with a jealous and regretful FP Jones.

Two months after the merging of the two schools, you grew much closer to Sweet Pea. You had become official, and were a power couple in the school, two serpents who were truly ride or dies for one another. Although you had pursued him as a rebound, you had revealed true feelings for him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He cared for you and you cared for him. You two were perfect for each other, you had a checks and balances system. You often controlled his anger, and he made sure you didn’t act out when you were upset since you were quite sensitive.

“Yo, (y/n)!” You heard Sweets call out and you turned around to face him as he approached you in the hallway.

“What’s up, baby?” You asked, kissing his cheek happily as you walked to lunch.

“Just wanted to see you,” He shrugged as you both walked outside to grab a lunch table with your friends. Fangs wasn’t here today, but Jughead and Toni were sitting with some of Jughead’s northsider friends. You shook your head and decided to sit with them since the had saved you a seat.

“Only one spot left, but I thought you guys could make do,” Toni said as she moved her bag from the spot. Sweet Pea sat down and pulled you onto his lap.

“If it isn’t the famous southside couple making an appearance today,” Veronica joked and you chuckled. She was right, neither of you would normally go to lunch, instead ditching to spend time alone or for you to take a nap since you always fell asleep in your classes if you didn’t.

“More like infamous,” Jughead corrected and you laughed.

“Hey, we aren’t that bad, Jug,”

“I beg to differ. (y/n), you two get in trouble all the time for skipping class together, or causing fights, or nearly fucking in the-”

You blushed and cut him off, “Okay, I get it, we’re a little much.” You giggled and turned your head to look at Sweet Pea. He was proud of you, proud to be reckless with you, and you loved it.

“Well, I’d like to hear this whole story about you getting caught nearly fucking somewhere?” Kevin asked and your eyes widened and you shook your head while the group laughed.

As per your tradition, you were meeting at Jughead’s trailer tonight before heading off to the quarry. You were in a crop top and short shorts, with your serpent jacket pulled over top. In this outfit, you could clearly see the serpent tattoo on your chest, directly above your heart. As you stood outside of his trailer, you approached the door and knocked until FP answered and you waved awkwardly. “Is Jughead home yet?”

“No, but come on in, he should be home soon,” you nodded and entered the trailer, sitting on the couch. You heard the sound of a motorcycle and you smiled, knowing it was Sweet Pea’s and you watched as he then entered the trailer, waving at FP before sitting next to you.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted, pecking his lips.

“Jug not here yet?” He questioned and you shook your head.

“Nope,” as you leaned into Sweet Pea’s chest, you felt FP’s eyes burning into you. You wished you felt validation from his possible jealousy, but you didn’t. Rather, you just brushed off the feeling of his stare and focused on Sweet Pea and his breathing. In an odd way, you were thankful for FP rejecting you. Although it broke your heart, and you will always have some feelings for him, no matter how small, it lead you to Sweet Pea. That heartbreak lead you to the person you loved.

When Jughead entered the trailer, he smiled when he noticed you two were already there. “Glad to see you aren’t ditching us,” he joked and you rolled your eyes.

“I would never,” you faked hurt and smiled as it was his turn to roll his eyes.

“I think Topaz and Fangs are meeting us there tonight since they were both caught up in something. So I guess it’s time to head out,”

You both stood up and followed Jughead out and you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders as you left the house. As if any pent up feelings for FP had left you as you left the house. Letting out a happy sigh, you looked over to Sweet Pea and smiled. You were very lucky.

#riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale x reader #riverdale one shot #FP jones #FP jones x reader #fp x reader #fp jones imagine #sweetpea #sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea imagine #sweetpea imagine #sweetpea x reader #sweet pea imagines #riverdale imagines

[alexanderwrites]

Tim Heidecker & Neil Hamburger @ Soho Theatre Review - 21/8/17

Tim Heidecker starts his 40 minute set in the cramped downstairs lounge of the Soho Theatre with two minutes of physical comedy - he wrestles frustratedly with the microphone and its stand, desperately trying to fit the mic into its holder and aim it at his mouth. It’s an easy task, but Heidecker makes it look like the most physically challenging action a person can undertake. It’s such an hilariously incompetent way to start a show, and it’s a bit that has some of that Story of Everest sketch from Mr Show formula in its blood - the longer it goes on, the funnier it gets. And the more painful it gets, the funnier it gets. The microphone swings wildly at the end of its cable, sometimes coming within inches of audience members, at other times crashing loudly to the wooden floor. As well as feeling dangerous and unorthodox, its a test of endurance, and like the rest of his and Turkington’s set, it dares you to keep laughing at it. It’s comedy that is so furiously funny that you have no choice but to keep laughing. Heidecker, getting progressively furious and demanding the music be turned off, is a master of playing a character that is completely losing control, as is Turkington. 

The concept of a lack of control is at the centre of the two sets. Heidecker’s routine is a terrifyingly accurate parody of those terrible, right-wing “i’m anti-PC!” comedians - his ugly leather jacket, unflattering dad jeans and sweat stained shirt make his character look like a stressed out alcoholic who is furious at his audience. “I say to people ‘I’m a comedian’, they say ‘what, like Tim Allen’, and I say “OOOOUUGGH?”, is one of his opening lines, a line that references Tim Allen’s, erm, catchphrase - a reference so dated and awful that it could’ve come from Tim Allen himself. Heidecker has such a perfectly tuned ear for how this kind of person talks, a catchphrase spouting, self-praising blowhard who spends most of his set talking about how twisted his mind is. It’s such a perfect distillation of a comic blowing their own set through anger and incompetence, and aside from being jaw-achingly funny, it actually has something to say about the hypocrisy and foolishness of a very specific brand of white male comedians who mistake their own anger for edginess, and mistake that edginess for something that people would actually want to hear.  

Early on in the set, he asks “What do you call this, London? England?”, at which point he makes direct eye contact with me. I nod, and he angrily says “you’re just nodding, which fucking one is it?”. Being the target of his frustration would be uncomfortable if it wasn’t so unbelievably funny. The audience members are hostages, and his inability to interact with them successfully keeps us at gunpoint. Because it feels so loose and purposefully sloppy, it has a feeling of anything-goes mayhem which makes it funny in such an immediate and urgent sense. At one point, he looks down at my girlfriend who has been laughing through the entire set, and for no apparent reason asks “Are you alright?”, in a kind of “What the fuck is wrong with you, why are you laughing?” voice. When she says yes, he pulls a face that’s hard to describe, and is best illustrated by using this screenshot from Heidecker’s web short Tim’s Cook Off:

Later, someone says something quietly in the audience, to which he loses his temper and insists on restarting his interminably pointless story about a movie theatre (”I went to the movies last week, we saw....uh...Superman”) that had Pepsi instead of Coke. He curses himself, and gets angrier and angrier as he routinely blows the most simple of “punchlines”, and like the microphone that he couldn’t put onto its stand, it gets funnier and funnier the more he misses. His crowd-work ranges from almost non-jokes (he walks over to me and says “Lets talk to the guy with the hair, I love it! What’s your name? Alexander? Alexander the Great! Here we go!”), to defeatist and aggressive (”Kyle? I have nothing for that name, you understand that? You’ve given me fucking nothing”), which all manages to be funnier than most comedians’ actual jokes. 

Fans of his work will know how funny he can be physically, and he puts that on display when regaling the audience with a story about his wife dragging him to the opera. His face when describing his anger is the kind of face that he does so well, the kind that has spawned endless GIFs across the internet - clenched teeth, face trembling in thunderous anger, head twitching to the side - it is such an hysterically unfitting over-reaction to the situation, and it develops this horrible character that he’s playing: someone with a whole bunch of misplaced, impotent fury. The story ends with him saying he jumped from his seat, leant towards the stage and screamed “SHUT THE FUCK UUUUPPP!!!??!” at the performers. And he claims this story received a ten-minute standing ovation at his last show, implying that we were rude not to do the same. 

The bit is a perfect distillation of who this character is: the loudest man on earth with the worst, most toxic opinions, who thinks he’s brave for saying what everyone else is supposedly “afraid to say”. Throughout Heidecker’s career, no matter how surreal and abstract his work has gotten, it shouldn’t be forgotten that what he really is is a satirist. Whether he’s making fun of late night talk shows, right-wing-targeted action TV programmes or self-important male comedians, what he really is - and what his set really demonstrates - is that he is one of the best satirists in comedy.

And so is Gregg Turkington, whose set as Neil Hamburger follows Heidecker. If Heidecker’s persona is someone desperately trying to hold on to some semblance of control, Hamburger is Heidecker in another 10 years: off script, off the road, and wallowing in chaos. There is no control whatsoever with this person. His comedy is Andy Kaufman-esque, playing with the basic form of comedy itself. Some people have described this style as “anti-humour”, which is a term i’ve never been fond of. Turkington isn’t anti-comedy: he clearly loves it, and is bending it and twisting it to his own unique style. He doesn’t subvert typical comedy by resisting it - he subverts it by taking typical comedy and channelling it through an abrasive, ugly man in the middle of a meltdown. 

It isn’t anti-comedy, because the comedy and the material is there - although in some senses, it’s not really the material that matters: it’s the performance. You can go and see Hamburger for the jokes, but what his shows are really about is a man who clearly has such a disastrous personal life that it has seeped into his work, and now his show - and his hair - all drip with booze and fear. Some bits don’t even have clearcut punchlines, because he is this joke. When he tells jokes about Gene Simmons, the thing that is funniest about it isn’t the punchline, it’s the progression towards it. He starts by calling him “Leeeegendary” and showering him with superlatives, but somehow over the course of his rambling, his descriptions of Gene Simmons have turned to “Physically disgusting, repugnant, worthless singer...”. Like the Heidecker character, the anger inside this man is turning all of his jokes into assaults, and if someone dares to boo or shout “That’s stupid”, which someone does after a bit about Ozzy Osbourne biting the head off a cooked chicken, he snarls “No it isn’t, because it’s true to life”. 

Moments of clarity in his character like that are some of the funniest, and that clarity is deftly juxtaposed with convoluted absurdity - and there is a kind of genius in how he balances both in his stories. One, for example, is about a joke Paul McCartney told while judging a contest for charity. The story about the contest rambles on with a fair amount of reasoning and believability, and this in itself is funny - the idea of this drunk, wet haired, comb-overed, phlegm-clearing old insult comic being at some sort of contest with Paul McCartney - and finding it delightful - is a deeply funny image because it places this nightmare in front of you in the real world. And then, he twists it into another absurd direction where suddenly nothing makes sense, when he nonchalantly reveals that it was a pissing contest that he was judging. For charity. And that’s not even the punchline, but it might as well be. (The punchline is that Paul McCartney, when choosing a winner - after seeing 150 contestants - said ‘Peed Best!). 

His references are largely ancient and esoteric - they’re jokes that’d require you to know specifically about the works of bands like the Grateful Dead, and whether you do or do not doesn’t matter - it’s the seeming disgust and discomfort he seems to have in his own material and his own being that is key to his work. After a more current joke about Linkin Park earns encouraged groans from the audience, it’s his disbelief that anyone could find it distasteful that is the biggest laugh. “Don’t worry, i’m sure they’ll keep making shitty music for you and your shitty friends”, he says, seeming to hate everyone in the room for not liking him, as well as hating himself for putting himself in this situation. With a lesser performer, it could be simply unpleasant, but with Turkington, it’s that unpleasantness that makes it kind of funny, and, to paraphrase Tears for Fears, kind of sad. Under all the nastiness, there is something human and tuned-in about these guys that stops them from being simple exercises in irony. There is an ugly, human truth in them that’s as tragic as it is hilarious. There’s almost a bit of sympathy in there, too. 

A very good movie came out a couple of years ago called Entertainment, a surreal road movie where Turkington plays himself and Hamburger, and the influences in that movie make it clear where he is getting his influences from: all over America. Hamburger is a great amalgam of old, dusty comedians in darkened barrooms who refuse to alter their personality despite it doing them no good, and self-sabotaging losers that live in Tom Waits songs. Hamburger’s and Heidecker’s personas come directly from these types of people, and they are worthy and potently funny portraits of these broken rejects. Moreover, the show as a whole says more about comedy than most documentaries about comedy do. They are trapped in a past that never really was, where they’re certain this material would kill. Heidecker and Turkington, in real life, do kill in Soho. They do the seemingly impossible and control the uncontrollable, masterfully managing their sets while still allowing them to feel chaotic. They put on an exciting show of two halves which compliment each other beautifully, and as well as being smart, on point, and terrific performances, they are uniquely and fiercely hilarious. 

Oh, and Tim is a really nice guy, too. 

Heidecker and Turkington (or Hamburger, if you like) are playing at the Soho Theatre in London until 2nd September, and you can and really should get tickets here. 

#tim heidecker #gregg turkington #neil hamburger #comedy #comedy review #soho #soho theatre #tim and eric #standup comedy

[theofficialcunt]

Adore walks in on Courtney and Bianca making out, Bianca goes after her (during this Courtney excuses herself and leaves to let them sort shit out) and Bianca tries to explain herself to Adore/ say this wasn't what it looks like... it somehow ends with Bianca and Adore smut lol

Well this definitley ended in some smut, so I hope you enjoy!!! This turned out to be a little more angsty then I anticipated. I also really like how i wrote Courtney in this one (I think I’m getting better with her characterization, lol). TW: Sex. Enjoy ✨

Adore was anticipating it.

But she never thought it would happen like this.

It was no secret that Adore, Bianca, and Courtney had a cat vs mouse relationship. Except it was a giant fucked up love triangle, not just a game of cat chasing the mouse.

Anyone within a 50 mile radius knew Courtney had a thing for Bianca. The way she liked to slyly mention her name in her livestreams, or throw her name out there randomly during her shows. She even talked about Bianca to her friends in Australia, and would occasionally gush to random fans on twitter about her. Most people wrote it off as admiration, but Adore always knew there was something more.

Because Adore used to do the same thing. When Bianca first won drag race, she would constantly repost her club appearance posters and encourage her fans to go see her. She would make any excuse to take a selfie, or a stupid video of them dancing together, and would even crack a joke or two.

Bianca would do the same for her, always posting about how proud she was of her music videos. At one point, their instagram and facebook feeds were full of pictures of the two of them together - which probably made Courtney feel left out, but Adore didn’t care. For the first time ever she had made friends, real friends that wouldn’t hesitate to tell her when she looked like a complete idiot.

Maybe that was why she had respected Bianca so much. She always told Adore whenever she looked like shit, or was embarrassing herself, without caring about upsetting her ego. Bianca really did her best to look after her; unlike the majority of people nowadays who will say they’ll tell you when you’re doing something wrong - but really anticipate your next fuck up more than Lindsay Lohan’s next DUI.

But Adore lost all respect for Bianca tonight.

She was walking down the narrow hallway backstage, after finishing up her last song - I Adore You. The infamous “biadore” song, as some of her fans called it. She would never confirm or deny it.

She had been so excited to see Bianca too.

She swung her dressing room door open, whistling happily to herself but then stopped dead in her tracks when she observed the scene in front of her.

Bianca was sitting on the dirty black couch in the corner of the room, their suitcases still ajar from earlier. Clothes spilled lazily out of them, piling onto the floor in a heap of sequins and tulle. The soft light from the vanity’s on the opposite side of the room illuminated her face softly, giving her red wig the appearance of melted bronze cascading softly down her chest and over her shoulder.

Her face was cupped by the sunkissed hands of Courtney Act, equally as beautiful in a white blonde wig that was lazily thrown in a messy updo. Her cheeks were perfectly pink, contrasting beautifully with the austrailian flag dress she was wearing.

Their lips, mashing together in unison - were now coated the same shade of candy apple red that Bianca usually wore.

And Adore was crushed.

Bianca pulled Courtney closer, tugging on the small of her back. Courtney gasped, clearly surprised by Bianca’s assertiveness.

Of course, she thought bitterly. How could she not see this coming? Courtney had liked Bianca just as long as she had. They both lived in LA now, and Adore had been gone to Seattle for a year.

They always hung out. Courtney cooked for her, they hiked together, and Bianca would even style her wigs for her.

Why wouldn’t they be together? It was only logical at this point.

She hated herself for even thinking that whatever chemistry they had 2 years ago would still be there. They hadn’t seen each other more for then 24 hours in months. There wasn’t much to lust after if you can’t even give yourself time to deepen feelings.

For some reason, Bianca opened an eye and saw the raven haired beauty standing in the doorway.

“Shit.” Bianca muttered, pulling away as she wiped the runny lipstick off of her face with her sleeve.

“Why’d you stop?” Courtney asked sultrily. She looked at Bianca whose eyes were locked with Adore’s, and then mouthed ‘oh.’

“Please, by all means don’t stop on my account.” Adore snapped, a little too bitterly. She went over to her vanity, grabbed the remainder of her makeup and threw it in her nearby suitcase.

“I, uh. I’m going to go grab a drink.” Courtney stammered awkwardly, standing up from the low couch and shuffling quickly out of the dressing room.

Courtney shut the door as she walked out and the room was silent. You could still hear her heels clicking backstage, until they faded away slowly. The room was thick with tension, with words unsaid. Adore felt like she was choking with how uncomfortable the energy was.

“How long were you standing there?” Bianca asked.

“Long enough.” Adore muttered, collecting the rest of her things. She bent down and zipped up her suitcase, propping it up so that she could drag it behind her.

“It’s not what you think.” Bianca sighed.

“Then what is it? Because you were clearly making out with Courtney.” Adore exclaimed exasperated.

She just wanted to leave. She wanted to cry herself to sleep and shove a slice of leftover cheese pizza down her throat. Adore didn’t want to hear about their love story, she just wanted to go home and wallow in her depression.

She should have made more of an effort to talk to Bianca. Hell, maybe she should’ve name dropped her on her newest single. Maybe that would have helped.

Adore should have just told her how she felt when they were on tour together.

Instead they drifted apart, and stopped talking to each other as much.

Instead, here she was - standing in a dirty dressing room frustrated and heartbroken.

The kiss kept flashing through her mind like a broken film reel. Courtney cupping Bianca’s face gently. Bianca smiling and moving her copper hair away from her face. Their lips locked.

Adore clenched her fists tightly, trying to stop herself from breaking down like an idiot in front of Bianca. She bit her tongue to prevent a sob from escaping her.

It was all just so pathetic.

“She kissed me, Adore.” Bianca murmured.

Adore nodded her head slowly, avoiding her eyes.

“I only kissed her back, because I was imagining it was you.” Bianca admitted, almost whispering it. She sounded scared, almost afraid to admit to herself that she had feelings for her.

Because it was scary. She was in the prime of her career, planning her third solo tour. She couldn’t let a relationship get in the way of that.

But she was in love with Adore Delano.

Adore, who was 14 years her junior, who had lost her dad and tapped out of drag race the second time around. Who lost weight, and changed her hair from red to black, and stopped wearing blue contacts so much,

She was too old to give a fuck anymore.

Bianca had a serious relationship end almost a year ago. She didn’t fully commit herself to it, which was why it ended after a short amount of time.

Roy had gotten his dick wet with trade over the last year. Rarely, but it would happen when he was desperate enough.

No one made her smile like Adore did. She could be so stupid, but in a sincere way that made her heart soar. She always felt so happy after hanging out with her, and her only.

Everyone else would drain her, always asking for advice on how to make it big, or for a picture, or an autograph. She’d find herself drained by the end of a long night out, even if it was just her and a bunch of Ru girls.

She never felt like that with Adore.

Thats what was it, she had realized. The common denominator was Adore. It had always been, ever since she met her on drag race.

She just couldn’t shake her.

And she was so tired of being alone.

“Y-you what?” Adore stammered, voice shaking. She sat down on the chair in front of her makeup station overwhelmed.

Bianca stood up, and walked calmly over to her side of the room.

“I’m tired of lying to myself, and to everyone else around me. I’m tired of being in dead end relationships. I’m in love with you, Adore.” Bianca said gently, moving a strand of her long dark hair out of her face and behind her ear. “Whether you wear bright red hair, or ripped tights, or band t shirts. I love you.”

Adore didn’t realize she had been holding her breath, until she sighed happily. Relief struck her right in the chest, as she realized her feelings were reciprocated.

The great Bianca Del Rio was in love with her.

Bianca waited patiently in anticipation for her answer, her eyes flickered from her clasped hands in her lap to Adore’s face impatiently.

“Oh right, sorry man! I love you too Bianca.” Adore exclaimed, grasping B’s tanned hand.

Bianca giggled, she was amazed that Adore could turn a confession of love into something more lighthearted.

“You’re amazing.” Bianca murmured, leaning in.

Adore smiled and met her in the middle, lips touching for the first time. Suddenly, Adore was the one pushing Bianca’s hair out of her face. She sunk her thumb into her dimples, smiling as she rubbed it softly over the indentation.

The energy shifted and Adore became even more desperate for Bianca’s touch. Standing up, she grabbed Bianca by her dress and pushed her lightly into the chair she was just sitting in.

Straddling her, she lifted up her plaid skirt revealing a very much untucked cock ready for action. Bianca felt her throat tighten at the sight of it as Adore adjusted herself on her lap.

Bianca clasped Adore’s ass firmly as she crushed her lips against hers all over again. She slapped it, eliciting a surprised gasp out of Adore. She always loved Adore’s plump ass, and would do anything to spread her cheeks like butter.

Almost as if Adore read her mind, she threw her long raven hair gently into her suitcase.

“It’s expensive, I can’t trash that wig.” Danny muttered as he pressed his lips to Bianca’s.

Undoing the intricate pins, Bianca released her sweaty head from her elaborate hair piece. Her wig was made up of 3 hair pieces or more, which was proving to be a pain in the ass as she struggled to undo it all.

“Here.” Danny giggled, lending a helping hand. Swiftly, he managed to neatly remove the remaining bobbi pins and laid the wig neatly on the makeup station.

“Thanks.” Roy smiled shyly, pulling Danny back into his lap.

The kisses became more frequent, more of a desperation behind them as they tugged at each other. Roy growled as he pulled Danny’s skirt down harshly, throwing it to the side of the room as he caressed his ass.

Danny moaned, tearing Roy’s shirt off and pulling him up. As they stood in the middle of the room together, they tore each others clothes off frantically touching each other as if it was the last time they would ever see each other again.

Danny was naked, with Roy.

And it felt so good.

“This is room is disgusting, but I don’t even care. I need you inside of me.” Danny whined.

Roy pushed him playfully against the filthy black couch in the corner, towering over the usually taller Danny.

“Enjoy this moment, it’s the one time you’ll tower over me.” Danny mumbled.

Roy cackled loudly, his signature laugh echoing around the hollow dressing room.

“God I missed that laugh.” Danny smiled, looking up at Roy with adoration in his eyes. Roy smiled softly, his brown eyes smoldering into Danny’s green.

Grabbing the lube from his nearby suitcase, Roy slathered his cock in it generously. He then poured a tiny amount over his two fingers, making sure they were saturated before slipping them in between Danny’s soft cheeks.

Danny gasped at the contact, then adjusted himself so that he was more comfortable. Roy pumped his fingers softly inside of him, exploring gently around his walls. Danny bucked his hips up, already ready to climax. He had been wanting Roy inside him for so long, it was almost too much to wrap his brain around him being inside of him.

“Not yet baby.” Roy growled, releasing his fingers from his ass.

“Ugh.”  Danny groaned frustrated.

“Patience my princess.” Roy whispered huskily. He lowered himself, pressing the tip into Danny’s ass slowly.

Danny moaned and his body shuddered with anticipation.

This was really happening, Danny thought. For the first time in his life, he felt whole. Roy gently grabbed his cheek and kissed him as he pushed himself further inside. Danny groaned with intense pleasure, feeling his stomach fill with butterflies as he gazed into Roy’s eyes.

Roy had never let his guard down like this. Usually for him it was a quick fuck and he was done.

But Danny was different. He was always different.

Roy could gaze into Danny’s green eyes for hours. He could get lost in the different shades of green, he loved to dive straight into them like he was looking at a multi colored meadow.

He pushed softly, and watched Danny’s facial expressions change from content to euphoria all within a few minutes.

He decided to finish him up, and began pumping quicker and quicker. In return Danny arched his back higher and higher and began to moan loudly. His nails raked against Roy’s back as he finally lost control and orgasmed. A stream of thick hot liquid hit Roy’s stomach, and he released inside of him shortly after before he pulled out.

Danny held Roy in his arms as they both regained their composure. They were both sweaty and hot, and probably looked horrible from all of their melted makeup on each others face but neither one of them cared.

“That was amazing.” Danny finally said after he caught his breath.

“I agree.” Roy said sleepily.

Suddenly, a loud knock at the door broke them out of their bubble.

“Can you guys stop smashing so we can go get food? I’m starved!” A drunk Courtney Act yelled from the hallway.

Roy and Danny shared a look of annoyance before smiling.

“Well, duty calls. Are you going to explain this to her or am I?” Roy asked.

“You can.” Danny smiled, blowing a kiss at Roy.

“I guess that’s fair.” Roy smiled, blowing a kiss back at Danny.

Leave it to Courtney to bring them back to reality.

#prompts #requests #biadore #biadore ff

[darling-danger]

Red (Part 2)

Part 1 | Part 2 (You’re here) | Part 3 pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader summary: There could be nothing worse. You’ve lost the one you love, it seems like there’s nothing left for you there, but are you the only one hurting? rating: Angst (self-loathing, mentions of cheating, some blood, injuries) word count: 2,947 inspiration: “What does it feel like, to lose everything?” warning: there���s a long flashback up ahead 

@dreemerxx

“Mama, tell me a story.” She said.

“What kind of story?” Her mother asked sweetly

“Tell me a love story mama.” She begged. “About you and papa?

“I’m afraid it’s a sad story, my darling.”

“Hey, hey wake up.” A voice called you out from the darkness yet you refused to do anything. The dark was nice. You didn’t remember why, but the dark seemed to comfort you.

“Dude wake up it’s lunch time.” You hear the voice repeat, feeling something shove your leg aside in an attempt to wake you up. The darkness flashed away as you blinked your eyes open. In a moment of morning daze, you stared up at the ceiling, watching the ceiling fan come to a stop, wondering where you were and why you were there.

Then it came to you – no, it crashed onto you – the weight of a building lying on your chest as you remembered what happened last night. Daveed. You felt your body freeze and a part of you didn’t want to believe anything, but you knew, and it was already done.

Sighing, you sat up and pushed the blanket off of you. You looked around, familiarising the place you were staying: your brother’s place. Of course, that’s where you would go. At this point, you had lost one of the two people you truly cared about. You stood up from your brother’s couch and navigated your way to the kitchen.

You sit down, arms on the table, your body leaning against it. You can’t feel, you can’t smell, and you nearly can’t hear. Nothing seems to matter as your mind flips through the things that had just happened to you. Your eyes focused on a spot on the table while you floated inside your own little headspace.

That was until a plate of breakfast was essentially dropped in front of you, causing you to slightly jump in surprise.

You blink, trying to get your mind to focus as your brother takes a seat across you, his own plate in his hands.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asks, cutting through the silence. You take the fork and toy with the scramble on your plate. “You come to my apartment in tears, crying your ass off and pass out on my couch. I’d at least want to know what’s going on with you.” He pushes.

You let out a shaky breath and drop the fork. You simply shake your head, not knowing where the whole thing even starts.

“I, I don’t even know where to start Robbie, like..” You pause. “I don’t even know why it happened.”

“Whatever it is, I’m here for you, that’s kinda what brothers are for.” He says, making his way around the table to kneel at your side. You let yourself cry for a bit, letting the emotions take over before explaining everything to Robbie. After a few minutes, you finally calm down, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

Robbie continues to slowly rub your back, urging you to tell him about what happened.

“From the beginning,” He says. “You got this.”

Daveed.

His eyes shoot open at the sound of his alarm. For a moment, he forgets you left. He forgets he told you everything and turns to wrap his arms around, only to be greeted by a cold empty space. His face crunches and he turns back into his original position, eyes meeting the ceiling. He knows his eyes are completely bloodshot, he was awake the rest of the night, only getting some sleep as the sun started to rise. He’s still wearing his shoes. He didn’t even bother changing.

He shuts his eyes and runs through his thoughts for the millionth time. He feels the guilt, it stabs its way into his chest with the force of a hurricane. His breathing is laboured and he feels himself fall apart again. He’s done horrible shit in the past, but nothing has hurt more than this. In a fit of anger his arm strikes at his side and hits the bedside table; he can’t even feel the pain in his hand. He feels like a shell, void of meaning and life.

Then he remembers what you looked like before you left, the redness around your eyes, the tears flowing nonstop; he remembers you shaking, struggling to keep it together. All because of him. All because he was too selfish. He’s ruined the both of you and there’s no act more selfish than that.

He pushes himself up, sitting at the very edge of the bed and his eyes fall to the small box on the floor. It’s cracked slightly open, allowing him to see the red gem perched on the ring. Tears don’t flow because there’s nothing left inside him. He bends to pick up the ring and fiddles with it. His fingers run around the metal band and he can feel the life leaving him – not his life – your life.

All the moments you enjoyed together, the milestones, even the rough patches. He sees the life he could’ve had with you, a wedding, a house in the country, little kids running through the halls; he sees it all creep away from him.

He can’t begin to imagine how you’re taking all of this. He had a few ideas to where you’re staying, but he decides not to act. Not right away. He’ll allow time to pass, he’ll let you heal – if you even can, he thought – he’ll let himself wallow in his misery because he deserves it. He’ll punish himself before he lets the world do so.

“- And so I just left, like,” You shrug. “I mean no one in their right mind would stay and I-I found a few cans of beer in my car and downed them before I came here.” You finished with a sigh, grabbing a glass of water and drinking as much as you could. Robbie sat in front you on a chair, his face hard and his jaw clenched. You see his hands resting on his lap turn to fists, knuckles white.

“Are you sure he was telling the truth?” He asks as he shifts a bit. You let out a dry chuckle.

“Why would someone fucking lie about that Robbie?” You’re hurt, almost offended by the fact that your brother could think it was some sick joke.

He stands up, the force of his sudden movement pushing the chair back. “I don’t fucking know, I just- I never thought Daveed would pull shit like that with you.” He rubs his face with his hand.

He starts walking back and forth, one hand scratching his neck and the other clenched in a fist. He kicks the chair hard, sending it tumbling with the others, but he doesn’t stop. He slams his fist on the table, shaking all the plates and glasses.

“That fucking – fuck, I can’t believe it! I’m gonna fucking kill him the next time I see him I swear – “

“Robbie stop!” He doesn’t listen. “I said fucking stop!” You place your hands on his shoulders and he stops in his tracks immediately, snapping out of the almost trance-like state of rage.

“Don’t fucking try anything, you got that?” You fumed. “You won’t have to worry about Daveed anymore, I-I’m done with him. Just let me crash here for a while until I can find another place to live, Robbie, I have nowhere else to go.” You finish, walking back to the living room and sitting on the couch, your elbows resting on your knees and your head bent over.

You hear him let out a breath. “Of course you can stay here, as long as you need. But what about..?”

“What about..?”

“Your stuff man, back at Daveed’s place. I gotta go get them right now.” He moves to where the keys lie on the coffee table but you grab his wrist.

“That can wait bro.” You pull him to the couch and lean on his shoulder. The tears emerge once more, the reality of the situation finally hitting you like a truck. You have no home, this is going to get in the way of our job, your things are still at his place and you remember you were supposed to take your Teddy for a walk later this afternoon.

“All that shit can wait, I just need my brother right now, okay?”

The weekend passes by quickly and you call in sick for the next few days, not mentally ready to head back to work in this state. Robbie stays with you every day, trying to cheer you up, bringing ice cream and movies to try and distract you. A few hours ago he left for work, leaving money in the kitchen for takeout. It all takes you back to when you were young, the days off, the money for takeout, even the movie nights.

The last time you visited your father before you found about Daveed’s affair, he wasn’t doing quite well. His condition was getting worse, barely being able to hold a conversation with you, but he remembered you, unlike most of the times you visited. You mom was there by his side, never leaving him, tending to his every need. Mom.

You turn the TV off, completely uninterested in the movie and lay back, your thoughts wandering through the moments you shared with your mom. And as it seemed, your mom had told you a story that seemed to foreshadow all of this

“Mom?” You asked.

“Yes, darling?” She responds from across the room. You two were in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner.

“You never did tell me the story about you and dad.” You state softly, fiddling with your nails.

“Hm?” She responds.

“You know, I remember asking for a love story when I was like 10, and I asked for the story about you and dad. You said it was a sad story, but you never actually told me about what happened.”

She sighs and closes the faucet. “I never meant to say that y’know.” She makes her way to you and takes a seat by your side. “There are some things kids should never know about their parents.”

“But I’m not a kid anymore Ma, I want to know.” She sends you a sad smile and nods.

“Your dad and I never had a perfect life together. There’s no such thing as perfect and we were far from it. Everything was amazing between your dad and me when we were dating. He would take me on many dates and we’d run off sometimes to have fun around town. We even owned a cat – do you remember Nini?”

“Our old cat with brown fur?”

“Yeah! I remember you dad giving me Nini as a gift for my birthday. And when he proposed to me I felt my soul soar through the stars. But life never goes the way we want, darling. A few years after we were married,” She paused and took in a deep breath. Her hand found its way to yours and held it tightly. “I found out your dad had someone on the side. I didn’t find out until we went to a party and I saw her. She was a gorgeous gal, and your dad didn’t know how to act when both of us were around. I just put the pieces together, but I didn’t tell him. That night I cried myself to sleep for the very first time. I told your dad it was something else but I knew I had to tell him eventually,”

There was a short pause.

“I-I don’t know what to say… ma, why did you stay with him?”

“I stayed because I loved him. That’s crazy I know but it took a while for me to bounce back. I couldn’t look at him the same, we rarely spoke then and I honestly thought he was going to leave me. Until one night I woke up and heard him crying. He thought I was asleep but I could hear him. He begged me to forgive him and I had never seen him like that before. After that, we put the whole thing behind us and later that year I found myself pregnant with your brother Robbie.”

“Mom… be honest, you said you stayed because you loved him but, did you really? I need to know.”

Your mom lets out a short sob and wipes the corner of her eye. “No, I didn’t love him as much. I’m sorry my darling. But I loved him enough to forgive him and start a family with him. I’m grateful for you and your brother, but I sometimes wish that I had left. Maybe my life would have been different if I didn’t stay.”

“I’m home!” Your brother’s voice snaps you out and you notice that you were crying the whole time. Quickly, you wipe your face and greet Robbie at the door.

“I thought you were coming home late?” You ask.

“Boss let me leave early. Told him my baby sister’s sick and there’s no one home.” He rubs the top of your head, completely messing up your ponytail. You giggle, loving the attention you’ve been getting from your older brother, something you didn’t have until a few days ago.

“Chinese or pizza? Your choice tonight.” You hear him say as he enters his room.

You’re about to answer when you receive a call. You check the caller ID, it’s Rafa. “Hey Rafa, what’s up?” You start.

“Oh thank god you answered.” You hear his breath, it’s quick and music is playing from what you assume is the radio of his car.

“Have you heard anything from Diggs? He hasn’t answered any of my messages all day and I’m getting worried. I know you’re busy, he told me you’ve been helping your brother with something for the past few days,” Daveed said that? “But Daveed didn’t show up for recording and no one has gotten a hold of him. I’ve been looking for him all day.”

“Have you tried his apartment?” You ask, grabbing Robbie’s attention.

“I just did, his car’s still here dude but no one’s home except for your dog. D’s neighbours said they haven’t seen him since this morning.”

Robbie is next to you, listening to every detail Rafa is telling you. Your heart rate picks up a few beats and you start to sweat.

“Don’t worry Rafa, I’m sure he’s just hanging somewhere. Go home Rafa, you need to rest. I’ll go out and find him.”

“Thanks man.. I hope you find that fucker.” You hear Rafa sigh before he hangs up. You head to your room and throw on a jacket before grabbing your keys.

Robbie quickly stops you in your tracks, hands up in between you two.

“Woah woah woah, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He exclaims.

“I’m going out to find Daveed.” You walk past him.

“He’s alright sis, he’s probably out fucking some random chick.” He says. You turn your head and glare at him, your eyes digging into Robbie’s. “Sorry I-I didn’t mean that. Look it’s already dark out, it’s not a good idea to go out there.”

“Then all the more reason I have to find Daveed.” You retort. Your phone rings and you automatically answer.

“Yeah Rafa I’m about to head out like I said I’m just gonna– “

“Babe.” You hear a different voice, it’s Daveed. “Juust the girl I wan’ned to t-tu-talk to…” You hear him speak sluggishly. He trips over his words and you realise he’s drunk out of his mind. You hear shouting in the background, the sound of bottles being thrown around a room is clear as day, there’s trouble.

“Daveed? Where are you?”  

“I’m at our spot b-hic!-uh..babe… the place with tha pretty flowersss…” He manages. You hear coughs come through before hearing him collapse to the ground, the phone tumbling against the cold concrete. The line is silent, all you can hear now is faint sound of cars passing by.

“Daveed?! Daveed!” You call out, getting no response.

Daveed

His vision is warped and he’s on the ground, his phone just barely out of his reach. He can’t see it but he knows you’d dropped the call. Then his senses return. Daveed immediately feels a strong throbbing at his eye, bringing his hand to cover it. He leans up on his other arms and checks the rest of his body. His jeans have cuts that weren’t there before, the shirt he was wearing was drenched in a mix of different types of alcohol and something else. Then he notices the large splotch of blood on his collar coming from a gash on his neck that he didn’t notice.

He falls back on the ground, his head colliding violently against the concrete; he knows he’s probably bleeding. I fucking deserve it. He doesn’t know how long he stays there. Minutes, a few hours, he just doesn’t know. He starts to feel faint, he can’t keep his eyes open, even if he tried.

“You’re a fucking mess!”

 He hears a voice call out. He doesn’t recognise it at first, he can’t see anything but a blur of colour and shadow. He’s hoisted up and leaning on someone as tall as he is, his arm wrapped around the person’s shoulders.

He feels hands checking the gash on his neck and he knows. It’s you. You’re here. But why? He stops questioning as he begins to lose consciousness.

“ – get him home now – Goddammit!” He hears your beautiful voice curse as he slips into darkness. One last thing runs through his mind as his body drops – She’s probably better off with me dead anyway.

#red series #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs angst #hamilcast x reader #darling-danger fics #lafayette x reader #thomas jefferson x reader

[thymo-leonta]

it’s no big surprise you turned out this way

read on ao3: [ x ]

summary: Hux and Kylo were so close so many times but they never quite reach each other. Until they do.

He never pays attention to the audience while he performs. It always makes him nervous and distracted, his eyes scanning and scanning the crowd. It didn't used to bother him but now he has to totally block out the room in order to perform.

After he's done it's a whole different story. When the final song ends Kylo lingers on stage, the best vantage point fore searching the crowd. He's distracted while he packs up the equipment with Phasma, glancing over his shoulder constantly, but she's used to picking up his slack. He does this every time but like always, he can't find that familiar face.

He's past the point of being disappointed, but it still hurts. Less like a punch in the guts these days and more like an ache in the his chest. Phasma thinks he's being ridiculous, and he is, but he doesn't care.

When everything is put away he shoves his way through the crowd, ignoring the strangers trying to chat him up just because he was on stage.

...

The knock on his window startles him in his half-asleep state. There's a pale blurry figure standing outside, and Ben is pretty sure that if he opens the window he's going to die, but he's alway been reckless so he does it anyways. Instead of death he gets a face he never thought he'd see again.

Hux has always been pale but now he looks ashen, and there are deep purple bags under his eyes. His red hair is cropped close to his head. His posture is straighter than Ben remembers, even with the tired way his shoulders seem to droop. Hux raises an eyebrow, silently asking to be let it and Ben doesn't hesitate to step back so he can enter.

Neither of them say anything as Hux shimmies his way through the open window. Ben's pretty sure he's in shock and is half-convinced he's dreaming. When he's fully in the room Hux makes a bee line to Ben's bed and drops onto it face first while Ben stands awkwardly at his window, watching.

Eventually Ben crosses his room in a couple of awkward steps and perches on the edge of his bed. Only half of Hux's body made it to the bed, the rest of it hanging awkwardly off the edge and trailing on the floor. They stay like that for awhile, Ben too scared to break the silence as if Hux will disappear at the slightest noise.

Finally, Ben summons up the courage to speak.  "Don't you still have a another year left? When I looked it up the site said that there was an extra year so that-" but he cuts off when Hux pushes himself up abruptly.

"I escaped," Hux says crisply, and Ben almost cries at the sound of his voice. It's been years since he last saw him but he still sounds the same, more mature but still undeniably Hux. He's sitting up now and there's space between them that Ben desperately want to close but he remains rooted in his spot. "I plan to be very far away before my father finds out."

Ben feels very, very fragile. He shuffles closer now, closer enough so their shoulders touch. Hux isn't looking at him, instead staring straight ahead and Ben doesn't think they've made eye-contact since he got here. He reaches out a hand timidly, placing it on Hux's cheek and gently pulling him to face him. Hux keeps is eyes averted, his eyes cast downward as Ben brushes his thumb across his cheek.

"You could stay here you know," Ben says, eyes wet with unshed tears. Hux laughs gently and shakes his head a little.

"Ben. I love you-" his voice cracks "-but no fucking way."

Now Ben's really crying, because it's a confession and a rejection in one, and it's everything he's wanted but it's being ripped aways before it could even start (again). All he can manage is a quiet, broken, "please" but he knows it's useless because he understands. It's too close to everything. To close to his father, his childhood, his school and he understands but it still hurts like hell.

Hux wraps his arms around him and pulls him to lay down. Ben's chest is tight with grief but Hux lets him make a mess of his shirt with tears and snot as he cries. He falls asleep after he's cried himself to exhaustion. Hux holds him the whole time and Ben clutches back desperately. He thinks he might have stayed the night.      

When Ben wakes up his bed is empty (and he feels a little empty too).

...

The lake is cool where he treads water, and it feels good against his flushed skin. He's a little tipsy but he hasn't drank nearly as mush as Phas and Armie have.

Phas has canon-balled into the lake no less than three times, no shame in her nudity. Ben is more self conscious, not having left the dark water since he got in and never going where the water is below his chest. Armie has been floating on his back quietly, giving Ben a few glances but he can't make himself meet his eyes.

He's been buzzing with anxiety all night, since Armie told them his dad's sending him to military school. They had been sprawled in Phasma's room, playing a stupid video game and laughing when Armie dropped the bomb on them. Phasma and Ben had gone quiet, before Phasma pulled out some alcohol from under her bed and said they were going to get throughly trashed. Somewhere along the way she had decided it would be a good idea to skinny dipping at the nearby lake.

He's brought out of his wallowing by someone crashing into his back, dragging him underwater. His first guess is Phasma, who's been having a great time jumping and splashing around. When he resurfaces and gets his bearings there's a smooth chest against his back and he realizes it's Armie. His arms are still locked around him and he can feel Armie pushing his face into his neck. Ben wants to turn around and hold him in his arms.

"Don't make it gay, guys," Phasma jokes, breaking the moment. Ben pulls away, giving an awkward, cracking laugh. Hux just stares at him sadly and Ben feels like he's going to cry. Phasma gives them a weird look before splashing both of them.

At sunrise they're all sitting on the shore in their underwear. Phasma had grumbled about being made to put clothes back on but the fact that Ben couldn't even look at her made her eventually relent. They're all sober now, crowded together on a patch of grass.

Armie is next to Ben, his head resting on his shoulder while Phas is sprawled on top of both of them, he head in Armie's lap. They talk in hushes tones about nothing for a while before Phas asks, "Why?" Ben holds his breath, the question that's been weighing him down all night finally voiced.

There's a moment of silence before Armie responds. "I guess he was sick of waiting for me to change." He lifts his head up and turns it, and Ben turns as well to look him in the eye. "I was never what he wanted me to be," Armie says quietly. Ben feels like there's something stuck in his throat.

Armie presses his forehead to Ben's and closes his eyes. Ben doesn't have the courage to close the gap, so they sit like that in silence. Phasma doesn't interrupt them this time.

...

The door on top of the stairs creaks as it's opened, and Phasma calls down the stairs, "Hey ass-wipe, there's someone here to see you."

He turns his face from where it's pressed into his pillow to snort. "Bullshit," he shouts back, "You know as well as I do that I have no friends."

Phasma give a long suffering sigh, and he can picture her leaning against the door frame, crossing her arms and giving him the most disappointed stare. She's mastered it by now, knowing just how to make him feel like a pathetic fuck with a single look (but it's not hard, he always feels kind of pathetic).

"Maybe that would be different if you left my basement once and a while, instead of spending your days inside like a fucking vampire."

"But Phas," he whines obnoxiously, "That would ruin my pale emo reputation."

She doesn't dignify that with a response, but he hears her coming downstairs to, presumably, kick his ass.When he rolls over, instead of tall and blond he gets tall and red. He barely contains his surprise at the disappointed face looming above his bed. After a moment he gives Hux a slow smile, sitting up and acting like it hasn't been nine fucking years since he's seen him.

"Darling, we have to stop meeting like this. What would your parent say?" He hardly can process the rage on Hux's face before his head snaps sideways and his vision goes white for a moment. He realizes Hux punched him when he feels blood trickle down from his nose.

Kylo cups his nose, turning to look at Hux's enraged face and wishes that for once he knew when to shut his damn mouth. Hux can probably see the shock in his eyes and seems to cool down a little. His relationship with his father has always been bad but Kylo had no idea it was that bad. From the looks of it, probably worse than Kylo's own relationship with his father.

They stare at each other in silence, and Kylo gets a good look at how Hux has changed. He looks healthier, more put together. He's still pale but he doesn't look like he went three days without sleep. He's wearing a button up shirt and slacks, and his hair is combed neatly. Kylo thinks of himself in comparison, shirtless, ripped jeans, messy hair and blood on his face.

Hux breaks eye contact first, glancing around the room before scooping up a discarded shirt from the floor. He crouches in front of Kylo without a word, bringing the shirt up and wiping under his nose. Kylo winces back but otherwise stays still as Hux scrubs his face. It's already stopped bleeding so when he's done Hux just drops the shirt to the floor.

"I'm sorry." Kylo says. Hux sighs and sits down next to him on the mattress. They're close enough that Kylo can feel Hux's body heat on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry as well. That was unnecessary."

Kylo doesn't ask about what Hux has been doing, instead he rambles on and on about his band and his numerous part-time jobs. When it's late he offers to let him stay the night. Hux eye's the twin-sized mattress with disdain, it's barely big enough to fit Kylo's huge frame and Hux is just as tall, though skinnier. He does stay though, and they somehow manage to fit together on it.

When Kylo wakes up the next morning Hux is still there.

...

Kylo bursts outside, taking a deep breath. He's pleasantly surprised to find Hux perched on the curb, cigarette in hand. He always declines going to shows, preferring to stay home. It takes three strides for Kylo to reach him and sit on the curb next to him, legs spread out in front of him.

"Did you watch the show?" he asks, trying (and failing) to not sound eager.

"I figured I'd give it a shot. Got a bit too loud in there halfway through and had to leave." Hux looks at him with a small grin, slightly apologetic but Kylo doesn't care because he came. "It didn't sound too bad."

Kylo feels a little breathless, a huge grin splitting his face. "Maybe you should join then. I'm sure there's something for you to do in the band. You could play the tambourine," he says, "Or one of those little eggs with the beads in them." Hux looks at him like he's an idiot (he is) but e keeps going, "Maybe you could be a back up singer. Do the harmonies for me." At this Hux outright laughs.

"I'm sure the audience would love that," he says sarcastically.

"You've got a nice voice" Kylo says quietly, bumping their shoulders together. Hux just snorts, shoving back against him, nearly pushing Kylo off the curb. He continues smoking, shaking his head slightly while Kylo just stares.

Hux glances over mid-drag and raises a single eyebrow. If he had been younger Kylo might have looked away, blushing, but instead he just stares steadily, chin resting on his hand. Hux stares back for a long while before leaning forward, gently taking Kylo's chin and tilting his head before pressing their mouths together.

Kylo opens his mouth and inhales and a stream of smoke enters his mouth, and Hux pulls back. Kylo exhales slowly, maintaining eye-contact.

"You know I hate smoking." Kylo says after he's done, and Hux chuckles.

"Yeah, I do." He finishes his cigarette. "You ready to head home?"

#kylux #my writting #heads up: it's non-linear

[for-the-fantasy]

So Much Has Happened, But Nothing Has Changed. Chapter Three.

MASTERLIST

WARNING: a bit angsty 

No matter how many shows they played or how many parties they were invited to, Jared couldn’t help but feel a huge gaping hole right in the pit of his stomach, Addie was all he thought about and the more he tried not to, the more he thought about her. What was she doing, who was she with? He could not turn it off, she was always there in the back of his mind, he pictured her golden waves falling around her face and the smell of vanilla that lingered around her and just couldn’t get her image out of his head.

 He needed her. He just needed to see her again and it killed him to know that he couldn’t.

One month passed and Jared thought of how he hadn’t spoken to her on her birthday, something he had never ever missed. After every show, the rest of the band would go to bars and clubs, soaking in the whole rock star life, whilst Jared would insist they go without him and when that didn’t work, he kept to himself, wallowing in his misery and making very little effort with those who tried to approach him.

 Then two months had passed and Jared thought he was beginning to forget about her. He would go out with the guys and laugh and joke, he would play the shows with every inch of emotion he had in his body, he would stand and talk to people who had come to watch them play. But, still, every time a small pretty blonde would pass, or he would catch the scent of vanilla on someone, he would be flooded with emotion that made his heart heavy and his lungs tight.  

 Before he knew it, three months had passed and it was time to go home, as they prepared themselves for the journey back, he knew he couldn’t deal with these feelings anymore. He was going to see her and talk to her whether she wanted him to or not.

 ~~~

 They landed early in the morning and after they had gone through security and picked up their luggage, Jared made a quick dash for the taxi rank.

 “Jared! Dude, where are you going?” Shannon called out “Its too fucking early to be running anywhere” he adjusted his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and rolled his eyes.

 “Shannon, take my luggage home with you, I’ll pick it up later! Please, I have to do something” Jared called nearly at the exit of the airport.  

 Jared found himself a taxi and gave him the directions for Addie’s house, the twenty-minute drive was excruciating. He just needed to be there and to see her face again. The taxi pulled up outside her house, he got out and took a deep breath.

 “Jesus.” He whispered to himself “What the fuck am I doing”

 He rang the doorbell and waited. No answer,

 He waited, ringing the doorbell a few more times

 “Addie?” he called out. “I know you’re there, its Monday and you’re in all day on a Monday with your Dad. You can’t hide from me forever” No answer. He was getting more and frustrated “Addison. Please just open the fucking door, I need to talk to you please”

 It was useless, she wasn’t going to answer.

 “I’m a fucking idiot” he sighed and sat on the doorstep contemplating what to do next.

 Just as he was about to give up completely, a cab pulled up outside and Addie got out.

 “What the—

 Addie slowly stepped out of the back seat, taking her sunglasses off.

 “Jared, uh, what the fuck” she shook her head, the look of utter confusion and exhaustion painted across her face.

 “Addie, thank God, I had to see you, I’ve been going crazy these past three months, I haven’t been able to think about anything but you” Jared gushed before noticing Addie’s reaction

 “Are you okay?” He lowered his voice. “Where is everyone? Where have you been?”

 For a second, Addie forgot about the confusion he had caused her just three months earlier and was relieved to see his beautiful face. He was only one she would have wanted to see had it not been for that night.

 “Yeah, uh, my, uh, it’s my Dad, he’s been in hospital these past few weeks, so I’ve been pretty busy. He’s going to be fine, everything’s fine. I just came home to shower and get some food. Ethan is there, with him now. Hospital parking is fucking expensive” She chewed on her bottom lip, staring at Jared. “so, we’ve just been taking cabs back and forth”

 “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, Addie.”

 “It’s fine” she shook her head, “You shouldn’t be here, Jared, I’m going inside. I’ll, uh, see you” she furrowed her eyebrows not feeling emotionally strong enough to deal with this today.

 “Wait, Addie, just, please let me talk to you. Can I come in and just hear me out and then you never have to see me again”

 “Look, I have so much shit to think about right now, I don’t need it to be any harder” she didn’t even turn to look at him as she looked for the house keys in her bag

 “Please.” Not even attempting to hide the pain in his voice “just five minutes and then I’ll go”

 Addison rolled her eyes, trying to hide the hurt,

 “Fine. Come on.” She motioned him with her hand and he followed.

 “Sorry it’s a mess, we haven’t exactly been here much lately” she said coldly avoiding his gaze.

 He stared at her, soaking everything in.

 “Take a seat” she motioned towards the living room as they made their way through the hallway, and sat awkwardly next to each other on the couch.

 “Look, Addie, I am deeply, truly sorry for confusing your feelings and just kissing you like that. I should never have sprung that upon you. I just didn’t know how else to let you know how I felt about you. Everything was just so heightened, we had just been offered this tour and I was so happy to share it with you I had no idea what came over me.” he stared into her eyes, waiting for a reply

 “Jared, I see how you treat the women you date. I refuse to be one of those girls. I won’t do it. I can’t.”

 “Addie, I’ve never felt this way before” Jared began, “what was supposed to be the most amazing experience of my entire life I never want to think about again because I missed you more than I could bear. Please. When I kissed you that night it only just confirmed my feelings. I care about you so much, Addie.”

 Addison stared at him, lost for words.

 “You would never be one of those stupid girls I messed around with! The only reason I was ever with any of them is because I needed some way to distract myself from you. I know I’m no good and you deserve the world but, Addie, I could never forgive myself if we lived our whole lives without me telling you.” Jared took a deep breath “I’m sorry, I had my five minutes, I’ll leav—

 “Why now?” Addison started, tears forming in her eyes, causing Jared to stop in his tracks “all these years you didn’t say a thing so why are you telling me this now?”

 “I don’t know” Jared turned to face her “I don’t know”

 “You don’t know?” Addison was becoming more and more frustrated

 “I don’t know! Why does it matter to you? Clearly you never felt the same way!”

 “Of course, I did” Addison shot to her feet, shouting, “Of course I did! I felt the same way about you for years! But you never even looked at me! You never even gave me a chance! You would brag to me about what women you had this week and who you were sleeping with next week! You idiot! For years, you never gave me a fucking hint! How the fuck was I supposed to know? I finally came to terms with the fact that nothing would ever happen and you go and do this?”

 Addison took a deep breath, tears streaming down her face trying to steady her shaking hands.

 “Addison,” Jared whispered, moving closer, the atmosphere thick with tension he reached for her and she collapsed into his arms.    

 “I’m sorry” he whispered, pulling her into an embrace, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he held on for dear life as her intoxicating scent filled him whilst he left kiss after kiss on her cheek.

 “I love you” his whisper barely audible “I’m in love with you, Addison”

 She pulled away, wiping her eyes and breathing heavily. After a second, she moved closer, cupping his head in her hands and crashing her lips onto his. As their kiss became deeper and more passionate, Jared grabbed her pulling her as close as he could get, the heat filling the room. It felt right, it felt amazing and as Addison broke the kiss, she took Jared’s hand and lead him to her bedroom. 

#so much has happened but nothing has changed #jared leto #love #shannon leto #thirty seconds to mars #echelon #fanfic #fic #angst

[baby-yessir]

Regardless

Pairing: Daehyun x You

Genre: Romance/ Fluff

Summary: Scenario of when he cheers you up from a bad day (Your POV)

Request by anonymous! I'm super late, but this is for all the bad days!

Disclaimer: Inspired by a scene from one of my favourite animes 'Haikyuu'. I won't spoil it, but bonus points to whoever spots which part I'm talking about.

It's been quite while since my last one and I'm a bit rusty, but please enjoy as always! For more, go to Mato Planet!

xx

I wonder when the hardest thing to say became "I'm not okay".

Simple enough, right?

Three words that even a toddler could handle.

Say those three magic words, and all problems could solved, be it with a band-aid for a scrape or a comforting hug.

When you get older, however, uttering these words will get you little sympathy.

In the real world,

There are no perks for an adult acting like a child.

xx

I was leaning on the kitchen counter of my apartment, phone pressed to my ear as I flipped through the local newspaper aimlessly. There were columns highlighted and circled aggressively with red markers, but nothing held my interest besides the fact that each section was labelled with the common tagline of  "NOW HIRING".

Although my caller was yapping away on the other end of the line, I was tuning out most of the conversation to listen to the soft hum of the heating kettle.

"And how was the interview? Think you did well on it?"

I sighed.

This had to be the third call about this already.

"I don't know, Mom... I told you already. They said they'd get back to me," I replied, a hint of annoyance in my tone.

"It's been more than a week, though! Does that mean you've been rejected?"

" I don't know yet!"

"Well, sweetie... Just keep applying, okay? It's probably for the best... I knew it was going to be hard to get that job, especially with your degree,"

"Thanks, Mom... Reminding me yet again that I've made a mistake of the last 4 years of my life,"

The high pitch whistle of the kettle rang out, and I watched the steam erupt slowly from its spout.

"Now you know that's not what I meant! It's just... You could have done something more... realistic," she replied pointedly.

"Alright, well... My kettle's ready, so I'm going to have to hang up now..." I murmured.

"Well then, let me know how it goes!"

There was a brief silence, as if she was debating whether to continue onto her next sentence.

" You know... sometimes, I'm just really worried about you. You know I just want everything to be okay for you, right?"

I paused at this, watching the kettle steam for a moment.

"Well actually, Mom, I-"

"Oh, sorry sweetie! That's actually your Dad calling me to the living room! COMING-! I guess I have to go now too!"

"Oh, okay... but-"

" Take care and love you!"

"I... Love you too..."

I let the line beep for a few moments before dropping my phone down onto the nearest counter space and attending to the heated kettle. I poured myself a cup of tea, and made my way to the coffee table with my newspaper.

As I finally sat down to rest, I took another glance at the annotated document and let out a loud groan.

"Why is this SO DAMN HARD?" I cried in frustration, sweeping the newspaper off the table and onto the floor.

With a large sigh, I hunched over the table, rubbing my temples to relieve the emerging headache I was getting.

I was already in my twenties.

By this age, my parents had finished their degrees, gotten married, full-time jobs, and had generally achieved some sort of stability in their lives.

And here I am, on the brink of my final year of college, with an unconventional degree and an art portfolio that would lead to a walk-off-the-plank from countless realistic job opportunities.

You're not a kid anymore.

Get your shit together.

Before I could dwell deeper into my self-wallowing, I heard a familiar message tune coming from my phone in the kitchen.

I crossed the room quickly to reach the phone, and opened the new message in my inbox.

(A/N: All text messages will be denoted with bolded sentences)

Daehyun

Hey! So I know it's been forever and you're probably busy... But how are you?

I gave a small smile.

Of course he would message me now.

"Pabo..." I mumbled, opening the box for a new message.

Me

You sir, have SPECTACULAR timing.

I could REALLY use a distraction right now.

I counted to five, and surely enough, my phone buzzed violently in my hand as a series of texts began to emerge on my screen.

Daehyun

Well, that can be arranged and can be subject to many interpretations (if you know what I mean).

But, joking aside... what's up?

Should I be worried? Do you want to talk about it?

Are you okay?

I pondered on the last text for a few moments, my thumbs a few inches away from the screen as I contemplated whether to respond truthfully or not.

But maybe...

Maybe, just this once.

Me

No... I don't think I'm okay. Not really.

Actually, I've been having a hard time lately.

There was a minute or two of silence, before a new message appeared.

 Daehyun

Okay, got it.

Leave it to me.

My brows furrowed as I read and re-read my screen.

Wait... what?

What does that mean?

I must have waited in a state of mild concern and confusion, phone within my hands, for about fifteen minutes or so before the sudden vibration and light from the device caused me to drop it promptly on the kitchen floor.

I cursed my clumsiness silently and picked up the phone to read the new message.

Daehyun

Can you come downstairs for a bit?

Without another thought but the man on the other line, I grabbed the nearest coat I could find and rushed out the door. As I descended into the main lobby, I could already spot his favourite coat from outside the clear entrance doors.

He was simply leaning against the post by the entrance, watching his breath rise up into the cold winter sky. His head turned suddenly towards the door and he broke out into a large grin as he spotted me. I returned it with a small giggle and a wave, before I pushed through the doors to meet him.    

"Good night for a drink, don't you think?" he suggested, holding up a large plastic bag.

"Yes please," I laughed.

xx

We set off on a walk to the nearest park, which stood atop a large hill, giving us a stunning view of the city nightscape.

I took one long sip of my drink, before letting out a small sigh of contentment.

"Yup, I definitely needed this. Good call on the alcohol," I told the man next to me, clinking my can to his.

Daehyun gave me his signature half-smile before turning again to watch the view.

"Kind of brings you back, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

He turned back to face me and stretching his hand, he ruffled my hair lightly.

"Aigoo, it was one of my fondest memories, and she doesn't even remember!" he said in mock sadness.

I swatted his hand away, a new smile forming on my face.

"Daehyun, just tell me!"

He looked at me for a moment, his cheekbones rising slightly despite his determination to keep a sad expression.

"Back when I was still a trainee at the company," he began, taking another sip from his drink.

"I had many days where I was down in the dumps... I thought to myself, is this really what I have to go through to get to where I want to be? Was everyone right? Was it too much of a dream, a fantasy that was meant for someone else?"

He shook his head.

"At one point, I really was on the brink of breaking down and just giving up for good... And that was when someone ... gave me a quick call to see how I was doing," he said slowly, watching my expression again.

"You... You told me that you weren't okay..." I recalled slowly.

"Yes, and?"

"And so... I took the night bus to your company building, and snuck into your practice room..."

"I still think the night guard remembers you, but that's another tale..."

"And then I brought you that snack you love, the one you told me they banned from your training diet, just to cheer you up,"

"I guess the alcohol is kind of an upgrade from that snack, huh?" he mused, grinning at me.

"Pabo..." I replied quietly, finishing the rest of my drink in one gulp.

I felt a slight tug on my jacket, and turned to see Daehyun giving me a meaningful look. He raised both arms up towards me, and gave a small shrug as if to say "If you need one, I'm here."

"Yes please," I said quietly.

And without another word, I was taken into his embrace. I closed my eyes slowly, feeling his hold tighten as I wrapped my hands around his waist.

I felt calm listening to his steady heartbeat and soft hum, and taking in his familiar scent. He raised one hand to run his hand through my hair.

After a while, he pulled himself back to face me, his hands holding me gently by the shoulders.

"You know... I think the struggles we have put a great burden on our shoulders. It's easy to see why we always end up looking down on the ground. But you, my dear..." he emphasized, poking me lightly on the forehead with his finger.

"Regardless of all the deadlines and the expectations... Regardless of all the bullshit the world throws at you... I wish you will always look up and straight ahead," he said, smiling.

Unable to say more, we turned to watch the view again, both equally embarrassed by the touching moment we shared.

I snuck a glance at him, smiling as I saw that a shy smile was still etched onto his face.

Slowly, I leaned myself on his shoulder. I felt him straighten up for a second from surprise, before wordlessly pulling me closer to him by the waist.

"Thank you," I whispered.

He leaned on my head to whisper back.

"You saved me back then, too. Thank you."

xx

The sun was at the brink of rising when we finally returned to my apartment.

Somehow, our fingers had naturally intertwined as we walked silently together. Unwillingly, I broke off from his grasp as I inched towards the entrance doors. I paused, my hand on the door handle, before turning back to greet him good-bye one last time.

"I'll call you later?"

He gave a small wave, nodding in agreement.

"If you're ever not okay, again... let me know, and I'll come back to cheer you up," he promised.

Turning on his heel, he strode down the pathway. He made it a few meters before he stopped in his steps, as if glued in place.

He turned around once more, walking towards me.

"What's up, Daehyun?" I asked.

"Actually... let me know whenever you're okay as well. Regardless, I'd like to be here for you then, too," he confessed, blushing.

I giggled, blushing all the same.

"Okay."

#bap #bap scenarios #daehyun scenarios #bap requests #kpop scenarios #late but better than never #daehyun