#or we like go over to the house she Owns that isnt on a bus line so she Has to transport me

[aurazoo]

ive been seeing this girl for a few months and it's like """chill""" but I am so not "feeling it" lately and idk what to doooooooo

#part of reason its stressful i think is that she has Lots of money and most of our time together is her paying for food #or we like go over to the house she Owns that isnt on a bus line so she Has to transport me #and also like #i feel like even tho she isnt ASKING for More i feel like she really Wants More from me and i dont really wanna uh give that too her #or be the only one she has to get it from i guess #and besides all that i just dont VIBE with her really :/ like when we hang it feels kinda forced :( #i know i think i gotta break it off and let her down but how do i do that when the only times we see each other #im without transport other than her #iiiiiiiiidk #its only been like three months but ahhhhhhhh

[yourtouchismidas]

could you write matth and rg taking the girls trick or treating for the first time please?? 🥺

so i think you take gigi trick or treating every year when she is very little, too little to remember, dressing her up as an avocado when she is a five month old and has only just learned how to hold her own hear up, and then as a spider when she is one, with big stuffed legs that she chewed on while held her in your arms and matty rand doorbells for her and smiled proudly as everyone cooed, then took all the candy round to georges to eat when they got high. when she is three she chooses her own costume, a witch, and asks for the sweets herself. matty still eats most of it, "to save her little teeth" and you share a few chocolate bars with her.

gigi's fourth halloween, you are with matty on tour in america, lounging in the hotel room the morning before his halloween show. you've talked about the fact that it's halloween, obviously, over gigi's head, and the boys have picked out their costumes for the show. gigi hasnt really said anything about it all day, you're not sure she even remembers halloweens past, or if its all just a hazy dribbly chocolate blur. but while you and matty are cuddling in bed watching telly, gigi hitches herself up to look out the hotel window.

"its scary day!" she says.

"yeah, gi," you say, "it's halloween."

she runs back over from the window and jumps on you both "we need to get my costume!"

you peer out the window yourself and see a bunch of school children waiting at their bus stop, all dressed in cute little costumes.

"we can get you a costume" matty says.

"will we have time?" you fret, worried about getting to the venue and sound check and everything.

"yeah, definitely."

"then we can knock on people's doors?" gigi says, "thats what you do on halloween"

you and matty look at each other. there will not be time for trick or treating, you know that. you break this news to gigi, and she starts sobbing into matty's chest, and he strokes her hair but he can't change anything, you simply dont have time. he feels like the worst person in the world.

gigi is still crying when you meet the rest of the band for breakfast, and she holds her hands up to george and he lifts her up and asks whats wrong. she just buries her head in his shoulder.

"we dont have time to go trick or treating," you explain.

"oh dear, gus," george says, as she sobs into his shoulder, "it's a hard life isnt it love?"

you take gigi to walmart while they sort venue stuff out, and she picks a skeleton onesie and you take her back to the hotel room and draw more bones on her face with eyeliner. she giggles with delight.

matty texts, can you bring gi back stage before the show? everythings done, wanna hang.

so you set off. when you get back stage, it's oddly quiet, like no one is there. you cant hear voices. the stage set looms like an empty house, the arena echoey. you take gigi and go and try and find matty's dressing room by yourself, with no one to ask. you find it, in a corridor of dressing rooms, the first one with matty's name taped on the front. you knock.

matty opens the door in his costume. he's dressed as a magician, with a black suit with coat and tails, a top hat, and a wand.

"oh hello there, can i help you?" he asks, looking surprised. you and gigi side eye each other.

"matty," she says, "it's me. your daughter."

"i'm just a person in my house on halloween. ready to give treats to the children who knock" he says, "or tricks," he says, poking gigi with his wand and making her squeal. he disappears behind the door and hands her a plastic basket shaped like a pumpkin, and then tips out a bag of sharing candy into it.

"yay!" gigi says, and you smile knowingly at matty, kissing him on the cheek and wrapping your arms around him.

"no time for this affection young lady," he says, unwrapping your arms from him, but kissing you quickly on the side of the head, "plenty more houses to visit." he gestures down the corridor at the unopened dressing room doors. you grin. matty waves his wand dramatically at the both of you, then closes his door slowly behind him, saying "have a good night," in the most creepy voice he can muster.

you go from door to door, and behind each is another member of the band, or their partner, or a manager, or a security guard. george is dressed as frankensteins monster and chases gigi down the halls with his arms out in the front of him. Ross is wearing red lycra as the devil, a tail pinned to his bum, his long hair all out and down his back, two red horns sticking up out of his head. he's bought way too much candy for gigi and she throws herself at him in gratitude, screaming "i love the devil!" and making you both split with laughter. adam jumps out dressed as a ghost and gigi screams and then pretends not to be frightened at all, and ends up chasing adam round the halls with ross' red plastic pitchfork.

you have gigi say thank to the boys, for making her her own trick or treating street backstage, and she kisses her daddy with her black lipstick before he goes on stage, and he leaves the print there the whole show, while you watch in the audience and your little skeleton falls asleep in your arms, happy as ever on halloween.

#ruins #ruins behind the scenes #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #dad!matty

[fairycheol]

STILL MONSTER ; PARK SUNGHOON

chapter 1: first day jitters

prev masterlist next

pairing: vampire!sunghoon x ???fem!oc

content warning: playful arguing, inappropriate jokes, mentions of skipping a meal

author’s pov

Today marked the start of a brand new school year. The halls of NuAbo Academy were busy with the chatter and footsteps of students, both old and new, wondering through the halls searching for friends or for the classrooms they’d be spending the next 9 months in.

One student in particular finds herself running late on this very early morning…

*CRASH*

“Oh Jesus Christ that fucking hurt!”

“JINRI?! Are you alright Sweetie?” From the bottom of the worn down stairs of the family house stands a middle aged woman with dark brunette hair. Around her waist is a pink apron and in one hand she wields a spatula.

“Uh yeah momma I’m okay! Just had a little accident.” Standing awkwardly in front of her bedroom mirror was 17 year old Jinri.

With quick and nervous hands, she brushes away the invisible dust on her perfectly ironed uniform blazer. She tugs her skirt down into an appropriate length and messes with her hair that sits delicately over her shoulders.

Bae Jinri knows she’s late for school, and it’s slowly killing her. She had set 9 alarms to wake her up and still she was late.

There was absolutely no reason for her to be this nervous about a first day, but here she was, running around her room like a headless chicken.

“You better hurry down here Sweetie, you don’t want to miss the bus!”

Right, the bus. It’s supposed to arrive in *Jinri glances at her wrist watch” 10 MINUTES!?!?

Damn it, now she really was going to be late

With even quicker motions than before, Jinri hurriedly throws on a sweater and yanks her bag up from off the floor. Making a beeline for the front door.

“Momma I’m gonna have to skip breakfast today! I’ll be on my way now love you!”

She leaves her mother no time to respond before she’s slamming the door shut and running down the street while trying to put her left shoe on.

As she approaches the bus station she notices the bus has yet to arrive,

“What the hell? I ran all the way here and the bus isnt even here!” She angrily huffs putting her hands on her knees in hopes of catching her breath, the sound of someone giggling catches her attention,

“Yeah they just announced they would be late, my names K. I go to SunnySide, what about you?” A taller boy with black hair and piercing eyes holds his hand out to Jinri which she firmly takes into her own.

“Jinri. Bae Jinri. I go to NuAbo.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jinri, I guess we should get going then.” The conversation the two had shared lasted enough time for the bus to finally show up and for neither of the two to realize a third party had been listening in the whole time.

Today was going to be a long and confusing one.

★彡

(Ignore the time stamps pls)

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen series #enhypen smau #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smau

[woomycritiques543]

Except, this forgets the fact that…

I dont know…

Vivziepop tends to higher multiple celeberties for her work nowadays, specifically mostly comedians, a grade voice actors, and the main character for her INDIE cartoon being voiced by one of the biggest youtube creators? Hell- most of who Vivziepop herself hires nowadays for her actually indie shows are not small actors trying to make it big, she hires CELEBRITIES AND BROADWAY ACTORS to pull herself up and not actually help other creators. Because if she did, she wouldnt have tried to blacklist her workers away from being hired for Far Fetched (Because that’s what saying “Pwease dont put them on your project this is swooooo important to meh! I know that they have to pay bills and stufff but this is MY show pwease dont hire them!” is, blacklisting.), this being confirmed by Erin Frost through their archives of Vivziepop’s mistreatment, and though yes, much of the more screwed up stuff was evidence towards other artists so Erin wasnt able to share most of it for privacy reasons, and they may have actually messed up in a few places and need to work on their own behavior- BUT THE MISTREATMENT WAS REAL! There’s proof of this all over the internet, not just from Erin Frost, but multiple people who worked there, and- theres evidence RIGHT THERE just by how fast Helluva Boss’s episodes are releasing!

Also yes, she does mostly hire big name, professional, and broadway actors, as for Helluva Boss alone she managed to get:

Not joking...

Don Darryl Rivera- broadway.

Richard Horvitz- THE VOICE ACTOR OF INVADER ZIM!

Erica Lindbeck- An anime voice actor, who's also a voice actress in The Owl House and MULTIPLE million dollar projects!

Vivian Nixon- Someone who's in GREY'S ANATOMY, one of the most succesful medical dramas of all time, plays Millie!

Barrett Wilbert Weed- Who was one of the actresses in "Heathers"!

Even Erica Lutterel, just plays a background villain that's just meant for comedic releif in this show- and she's an actress that's played in Steven Universe- AND THE ORIGINAL MAGIC SCHOOL BUS!

Norman Reedus- WHO'S NORMAN FUCKING REEDUS THAT GETS MILLIONS OF DOLLARS FOR EACH OF HIS ROLES!

Jonathan Freeman-

JAFAR.

So I think it's really safe to assume- no- to KNOW that Vivziepop outright refuses to hire mostly indie actors, and instead, pulls herself up and other indie creators down by hiring mostly BIG NAME ACTORS WORTH MILLIONS OF DOLLARS! -so to say that "she's going to hire broadway or movie actors" isnt even an assumption anymore, we already know that she does this! She could have easily replaced the Hazbin cast with more indie actors- but instead let the fame get to her head and now hires exclusively big name actors for her projects with little to no actors who havent been in at least ONE million dollar project at some point in their life.

Look at this cast-

LOOK AT THIS!

Should we even still call this an "indie" project anymore if it's a mainstream, million dollar show that has a corperate movie level cast in multiple episodes?! This looks like something i'd see on the average Disney movie- not a indie show, this is far from indie at this point. More than eight people, one of which literally is in the cast of a Disney film! So "It's A24 so she's going to hire mostly indie people" MY ASS! She is not going to hire mostly indie, even for her actual indie project she didnt hire mostly "indie" and instead hired million dollar actors who's been in multiple big name movies! Also- of course, I found this from someone who reblogged this from "PetitPrincess1" because as usual, since this person tries to manipulate the public and attack people, on a daily basis. Petit posted this manipulation tactic to get people not to see the fact that Vivziepop has now hired multiple million dollar movie actors! Sick of this manipulative crap-

People, if you see someone reblog random Twitter posts- DO YOUR RESEARCH BEFORE REBLOGGING! Because before you know it- you end up being manipulated into not seeing something like this!☝️Dont fall for it, even if it's a tweet from Vivziepop- dont fall for it and do your research before trusting someone, anyone! That you see online.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #helluva critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #voice actors #disney + #corperations #Helluva Boss basically isnt even indie anymore... wow. #Yet despite not being greenlit and on Youtube... it still has mostly just broadway and movie actors.... goddamn. Impressive. but also sad. #since that means that youre less likely to be hired as a indie voice actor- IN A INDIE PROJECT! What the heck?!

[lucidpantone]

Sara & August "love" story: A breakdown.

So I did one of these for Wilmon so I thought lets do Sara & August (aka Sargust). I know, I know the title is a bit of an oxymoron but hear me out.......

Ok so lets start with a controversial opinion which is up to episode 3 before the queen told August he was the backup plan August was actually 100% ready to take accountability for the leaked video. He was trying to be a decent forrest ridge housemate while Vincent was basically a slave master and he even stuck up for Simon and told Vincent to take a chill pill that rowing was meant to be fun and something to build camaraderie not tear it down. Do I think August was aiming at redemption or something like it before the backup plan scene? I do, and hence my next argument. Which is Sara is the real problematic one between ep1-3. 

Something that I dont think has been discussed about Sara is her insane level of self-loathing for her station and her internalized classism. These traits lead her strait into August’s arms because she thinks that by association to him some how her stock will go up (which she isnt wrong) but at the time she is not aware of this...yet. Yes, August is an attractive guy but I think alot of her attraction to him stems some from very unhealthy associations. Like he is Felice’s ex and somehow they must be on par because she got with him too. She knows this deep dark secret about him and in away holds power over him, its inferred he pulled some favors for her to get into Manor house as well. In a way the foundation they sit on and that makes them romantically involved is set atop poison roots. During ep1-3 Sara was doing alot of things wrong while August was attempting to placate wilhelm but Sara was purposefully making felice feel guilty while she was hooking up with august, lying to her brother about August, being blasé towards her family(aka her bday gift & later we learn bailing on Linda alot) and attempting to sabotage the sale of Felice’s horse which I get that she loved it but the mental gymnastics you gotta do to expect to dictate the purchase of a horse you dont own and who’s owner is the girl your lying too and screwing her ex is some batshit crazy logic. 

So in away August wanting to bring their relationship to light and make it official amongst Sara’s friends is actually a healthy one. I know, I know.... August making a healthy decision is strange. I also feel that they find refuge in one another because they are in away kindred spirits because they are both a slave to the game. They seek validation through station but are pretty self conscious of making that obvious.Anyways like I said ep 1-3 August was actually trying to do this right but by ep4 the August from s1 comes back full force. He starts peddling this idea of royalty which lets be honest is far fetched hence why he is so offended when even that possibility isnt enough for Sara to tell felice. I will say one thing about these two they are undoubtedly in love. Yup, its true their in love but their entire being is wrapped up in this deep self loathing in which they will always throw one another under the bus to save face so its love but a toxic one that sits atop of conditions and personal agendas. Yes, August loves Sara and yet he betrays her trust but then buys her the thing she loves the most in the world. Yes Sara wants validation but on her terms and when she wants it. When August needs her to come to bat for him publicly she doesnt do it but at the same time she will forfeit felice to save august. They are truly two of the most two faced people and in away August is right they are the same to lost souls looking for refuge in the trenches of self loathing........ it was doomed from the beginning. Plus, they are also 18.

#young royals #yr s2 #young royals season 2 #wilmon #august horn #sara eriksson

[dballzposting]

Chichi is a very strong and strict mother and she fully exudes the love and discipline necessary for the task. She is wise and mature but also protective to a fault, and no matter what, her house and everyone in it is what's most important. Also, shes completely stubborn and irascible.

And what I'm trying to say that shes known Trunks since he was a baby and she has a certain amount of authority over him (same as Bulma has over Goten) and she will do everything in her power to raise him right as long as hes around but ultimately he is Not her boy . And she will always throw him under the bus first before she admits to others that her son is a wild animal.

And when Goten was a baby kid she really believed that her Goten-Chan could do no wrong. But shes not daft and at some point she faces the music. Maybe when Goten is around 13 or 14, she suddenly sees that hes a wild animal and she cant keep him on a short enough leash and hes up too late at night and hes loud and reckless and irresponsible and forgetful and at times has real filthy mouth and she just wont tolerate those things. And it's like a switch flips, suddenly she goes from "I CANT BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO/SAY SUCH A THINGGG my little ANGELLL (crying) (mourning the loss of purity rather than appreciating the gift of maturity)" to "Oh What Did You Do This Time. Of Course. I Cant Trust You to do SHIT can I. Honestly I should just lock you up and hide you from the public I cannot afford to have this obscenity broadcasted to the world. Imagine how that reflects back to me. You know Gohan was never this reckless. This is becasue you didnt have a father for the first 7 years of your life isnt it. (Somehwere piccolo feels pain in his soul). I keep telling Goku-sa to spend more time with you but I guess it's not enough. I'm not surprised in this slightest that this happened and that it was all your idea and also you're grounded for 10,000 years."

Ok I went on a bit of a tangent there. We can all see how that form of parenting is detrimental especially to her ADHD-addled son but this post actually isnt about that.

What I'm TRYIBG to say that while she acknowledges her son as a wild flea-ridden beast who loves to party and live life, she still loves him dearly, and will still protect him becasue there is still something pure-hearted to protect out of virtue of the fact that he is her child.

So when Goten comes home and says that he and Trunks got in trouble and that Bulma grounded the both of them, but he refuses to give up details, when Chichi calls Bulma on the phone for answers she does not relent that her son is an offending party.

At home shes gonna beat his ass and know without a doubt that hes an equal perpetrator but when shes on the phone shes like "WHAT DID HE AND TRUNKS DO. HE WONT TELL ME WHICH MEANS THAT HE AND YOUR BASTARD WHELP REALLY COOKED UP SOMETHING OBSCENE THIS TIME. THEYRE NOT ALLOWED TO SEE EACH OTHER ANYMORE IF YOU CANT KEEP YOUR BRAT FROM DRAGGING MY GOTEN-CHAN INTO DELINQUENT CIRCLES."

And that's all I'm trying to say. Shes completely pissed at Goten but also shes fiercely protective and she KNOWS that her own son wont stop being stupid but also shes gonna lash out and blame everyone else so that they know their role in all this.

And when shes really angry she WILL bring up Trunks's bastard status, remorselessly. That type of thing matters to her, as someone who married her first boyfriend and who had kids well within wedlock, so she will bring it up. When things are going good obviously she is very decent and civil and helpful and respectful to Bulma and her son but when things go bad she instantly pulls out the bastard card. And Bulma of course takes offense every time becasue shes Bulma.

And it's a bit confusing for the kids becasue Goten was an angel until he grew up a bit and now it's almsot as if his mother resents him, except when she resents someone more, and even Trunks is vexed by the way that Chichi treats him like another child under her wing until suddenly hes his mother's Bastard Whelp. Well anyway

#dballz posting

[swiftlydolphin13]

Eras fanfic (updated)

here y'all go!!!! An updated rendition of the eras fanfic... Updated as the shows go along!!!

My attempt an an eras fanfic lol Lol my fanfic era haha

"Its been a long time coming!!!" Lover exhaled at the sight of her first order of crunchwrap burritos rep had plopped on the table. "You owe me, Love" rep uttered dryly, through a smile. "Ha." chuffing coyly, lover could see right through rep, as always, knowing her edge was just for show. "I cant make any promises, but ill make you a drink" she shyly dragged the warm package close to her.

"FOOD????" A disasterous cacophany of cowboy boots stomped down the spiral staircase. A Barely brushed, half-haggardly stumbling, debut.

"Not for you 'bu!" Rep waved over to her. "But sharing is caring!!!" debut exclaimed, "y'all know i was the first to move in here but the perks??? Dryer than snakeskin in the sahara desert. cant i get, like, special dibs on food????"

"'Bu is right, sharing is caring" lover scrunched her face in endearment toward debut. After all, being the youngest of the bunch, she rarely goes out too much on her own, and is always looking from the Outside. "get over here."

Wild curls, reveling in their early morning pre-brush reign, rattled and bounced as debut skipped across the living room into the kitchen.

"I ordered double, triple. Actually ...i knew you and fearless would catch me now" lover winked.

You can bring that extra burrito to fearless. So she can eat like...

" a princess" lover and debut chimed.

'Bu beamed. She always had a soft spot for lover. After all. Shell never forget when she asked for all her old journals and had them organized and read out. She always had something wise to say about debuts wild shenanigans. She saw debut's wild fire almost as much as….

"HAS ANYONE SEEN THE BUTTERFLY I LEFT ON THE WINDOWSILL!?"

jars clattering and clanging can be heard from the kitchen, but its origins are far from it.

"Folklore what did you bring in the house THIS TIME!?" Rep exclaimed.

"IT WAS A RARE MORPH!" Her Footsteps slow ombre toward the kitchen, clatter and clinking of jars accompanied her.

she appeared with her typically umkept hair, yet somehow still harmonious with her tattered nightgown, always trailed by moss or leaves, despite always swearing she slept in the house the entire time (almost, at least)

I found a dead monarch morph yesterday and left it by the windowsill, i hadnt preserved it yet cause i was due to go out to get some more supplies… Have any of you seen it…

"Listen i may be the snake of the group but i havent seen your butterfly, fol."

Debut uttered a small squeak and looked at lover, while pointing to speak now's room.

Folklore caught the subtleties.

" speak now took my butterfly?"

"No…" Rep caught on.

Low rumbling Sounds emerged from speaknow's room.

"Oh…."

" its her time of month, isnt it?"

Smoke rose from the door as it slowly creaked open….. Who emerged was far from a cat… but a dragon, barely fitting the size the door nonetheless.

"Yup" all three said in unison.

"Looks like you skip breakfast today speak," Rep said.

"Yall never get me my cravings before they start!!! So i had to resort to folklores room!!!" Speak rumbled, before coughing up some ash over folklore.

Omg Sorry!!! Morning voice :(

Nah, folklore waved a hand in the air. "Im covered in dirt anyways."

"But….i didnt eat the butterfly, swear. Snacked on some of the wisterias though. Sorry :("

"Thats okay, i planted those for you :)"

Speak now: ……(:

"Well, then if you didnt then…." Rep trailed off.

Sounds of a cat heaving were audiably going down the stairs.

"Speak now isnt the only enchanted one here …"

Yeah, we got merideth olivia, benji thats taken care of by…

An auburn cat emerges, looking sickly.

"Evermore…"

"EVERMORE YOU KNOW THOSE ARE POISONOUS!" folklore exclaimed.

"reeellalaax, im not THAT fucked in the head." evermore said through the coughs, " the butterfly? Oh thats GONE," evermore explained. "Emergency spell last night, i have to show up for work today, and i cant show up LIKE THIS, im a monster on my time of month you know….. im not some fae that sprout wings once a month," she glared at folklore playfully.

"Ha, ha." Well, in MY OPINION… you should show up to work in whatever form of your nature."

"Im just as dignified;" evermore adds. but the spring lunar cycles are always that damn season…."

Folklore teased a smile. "Either way, i guess you can pass my wrath this time."

Smoke suddenly filled the room as a golden orb appeared around evermore, growing until she returned to her human form again.

"Thats MUCH BETTER. As a high sorceress you think i'd get used to this by now, but im ashamed im probably still fucked in the head. Ill never remember to prep for these spring allergies."

-CHAPTER 2: JUMP THEN FALL-

Now that the dust had settled, the eras scattered to their respective morning dues.

Debut skittered upstairs with the breakfast burrito lover gave her and her plus one, eager to share it with her room neighbor.

Debut slowly peeked into fearless' room slowly creeped near her bed and… "…FEARLESS! BURRITO!!!"

fearless' wild curls covered her whole face, looking like a golden shrub that took over the sheets.

Debut tossed the burrito over any way, getting absorbed in the golden shrub.

"The scent should wake you up sleepyhead!!! commiting to the princess motif, arent you?"

"Mmmmhhh… whats going on…???"

Her mind caught up to the added warmth over her shoulder, and felt for its location without raising her face.

"Cmon!!! We can eat together by the patio. My burritos already getting cold!!!

Fearless finally turned over, sighing. Shes always one of the last to wake in the mornings, but was hardly ever grouchy. She tossed her hair out of her own face, and beamed deviously at debut.

"Its speak nows enchanted week right? Her time of month?"

"Yeah. She was the center of folklores butterfly fiasco this morning… Until it was evermore….."

"But thats a great excuse…." Fearless smiled, " to have her fire our burritos"

debut burst out with a laugh " see ive always liked the way you think," "RACE YOU TO THE BATHROOM??? looks like ill win this time i got a head start!!!!"

"NOT ON MY WATCH !!!!" fearless sprang out of bed, and suddenly two wild golden streaks lined the hallways.

thinking they reached the bathroom, they. Burst in .

They bumped into the newest member of the family, and her room

Oh where are YOU TWO little rascals up to???

Ooohhh sorry midnights!!!!! We keep forgetting this rooms repurposed." Fearless looks flushed as she and debut look at eachother.

"No worries," midnights assured. She quickly turned to the tweaking artisan grandmother clock she had been working on.

Ever since she moved in, Midnights room has been an enigma. Always hearing a plethora of creaks, tuning and turning gears in the middle of the night. None of the eras ever took the time to ask what was going on, and only assumed that midnights never desired to be bothered by such a question.

Now… debut and fearless wouldnt had dared step in hadnt they been serendipitously distracted by their competition… But now that they were here….

debut backed and turned away, with fearless hesitantly… turning back.

"What-…. Whatcha workin' on????"

Clinks and tinkering sounds of a pleaseant volume accompanied their conversation.

Ohhh, just a bit for a trip im taking…

"Ooohh!!!! Where are you going?? " fearless asked.

Debut tapped fearless on the shoulder. " more like when…. "

Suddenly what fearless hadnt noticed took form around her. A moving board of Maps of several time periods of each era mapped out on its cork wall, along with various equations and calculations. The room in fact was leviathan, ceilings raised up higher than the roof of the lover house itself, as well as its shape greatly mismatching. Rounded, it looked like a library belobging to an ancient castle rather than the refurbished bathroom fearless and debut had mistaken it for previously. walls stacked with books upon books, wooden bookshelves with a coat of midnight blue yet faded, despite midnight new addition, it was as if time ran its course over them. wood embedded dividers of each section, portruding as intricate wooden carvings, lines parallelling then intertwining and streaking in parallell yet again. The heart beat of time echoing through the ceiling taken from a cathedral. The whole ambiance was crisp, yet cold, as if the air from the room originated from elsewhere, as if midnights room was enchanted itself.

"Can we uhh… Take a look at your room??? Uh, weve never been here before and … It looks pretty neat." Fearless voice echoed, bouncing off the cielings. She mustered up some more confidence quickly, upon detecting midnights chilled nature.

"Sure, just dont touch anything."

Midnights spoke in a calm yet slightly stern voice, carring wisdom effortlessly with each intonation. A voice that could get even Fearless and debuts' fire to settle.

"Okay, " debut and fearless agreed.

The motiined across the room to a far corner, that had ancient looking artifacts that seemed engulfed in lore and story. Debut and especially fearless could not resist, swords of different eras displayed, each with its set place to rest.

"Wow…. I never knew we had this much stuff…" Debut said in a hushed tone, in awe of the sythe before her.

"Omg look!!! Theres one for evermore and folklore too!! ….woah…. Does that mean i have one too??"

Fearless pitter pattered ahead of debut to the second aisle, And caught the glint of a golden sword..

"LOOK, Debut!! I HAVE ONE!!!!"

Debut caught up with fearless , careful to stay a safe distance from the swords.

"Lookk this is soooo cool and look you have one!!!"

Fearless' sword looked like an intricate key, while debuts looked mirrored lije the surface of a lake.

She leaned in for a closer look.

"This is so neat…. " fearless' voice seemed to trail off.

"Yeah. I never knew we had this… Pretty cool. We can look more later though fearless, im actually kid of hungry…."

"Me… Tooo…." Fearless was entranced by the gleaming glint of her sword, which suddenly started glowing.

Oh my gosh, YOURE glowing!

"Yeah, its cool, the sword is doing that !!"

"No, YOURE GLOWING!"

fearless looked at her own hands and arms. Slowly, the glow overtook her whole form and brightened, enveloping her in golden light, glowing just under brightness that you could still see fearless astonishment

"Debut!!!! Whats happening!!!"

"I dont know!!!"

From the bottom up, fearless started disintegrating, becoming glitter flecks that began to funnel into the fearless sword.

"FEARLESS OH MY GOD!!! MIDNIGHTS!!!"

Midnights overheard the commotion and sprang to the scene in the back of the room, taking a few moments to reach the far corner where fearless sword was.

Skittering through the last aisle, midnights exclaimed " I told you not to touch anything!!!"

"We didnt!!!" Debut and fearless said in unison, before a partly departed fearless whollly dissapeared into embellished gleams of light, warping into the center of the fearless sword.

"FEARLESS!!!!!"

debut cried. " WHAT HAPPENED TO HER!! SHE DIED, IM SURE SHE DIED!!!"

"You NEED to calm down, debut" midnights somberly put her hand on her shoulder

" i shouldve taken this into the equation..."

"What do you mean??"

Well…. Quantum entanglement. You wouldnt-

Debuts eyes glared for awnsers.

Midnights sighed. " you know that each of you have a ceartain quality to you that makes you unique right?"

"Yeah."

"And like attracts like?"

"Yeeeahh...???" Debuts brows furrowed.

"Well what if i told you... ive been masterminding with other versions of each of you that exist through space time???"

"Uhhh… Wouldnt you need PERMISSION FOR THAT???"

"well…. Thats the thing…. I didnt have time to ask for permission…."

What do you mean??? Are we in trouble???

….sort of…? You have…. A chance to be locked in this house forever if i hadnt stepped in…. Well. Except lover.

Permission was taken from us…why is just lover safe??? Whats so special about lover??? (except the fact that she is literally my MOTHER compared to y'all. Debut thinks to herself.)

"Its…. A lot to explain." The important thing for you to know is that where fearless is, is safe…. Shell be taken care of, by … Herself."

"WHAT!? SHES TRAPPED THERE ALL ALONE??? OH MY GOD HOW COULD YOU!!"

Debut please! Im telling you… Shes not alone…. Shes with herself…. Her other self…..

-CHAPTER 3 THE FEARLESS REALM-

HEY GUYS…? where- where am i…???? Guys????"

An eerie silence filled the grass clearing.

Fearless sat plopped on the grass limbs still spread as she sat up.

A grumbling noise caught her attention.

"…Damn it. I never got to eat the breakfast burrito. "

#Fearless #Taylor swift #Taylurking #Taylor swift midnights #taylor swift debut #the eras tour #Taylor swift eras

[zombieratt]

Alright so forewarning this is LONG as FUCK specifically because i came up with this idea in early high school and was just today POSESSEd By the Spirit Of Musical Theatre to put it to paper— er Tumblr.

So without further ado:

DEAR EVAN HANSEN BUT EVAN ISNT A TERRIBLE PERSON AND CONNOR LIVES.

the beginning is the same, canon diverges just after waving through a window.

*this ended up getting written is script format? i also just sorta ignore alana’s whole exsistance bc in this version of the play she’s unnecessary*

In the moments before he talks to Connor evan decides to omit Zoe from his letter, having resolved himself to move on from her. (instead of being a hella creep.)

Connor: “dear Evan Hansen,” what are you writing letters to yourself? *he laughs*

Evan: its, uh, its for my therapist. its just a stupid little assignment that she says is supposed to help me process my feelings or— uh or something

Connor: hm. here. * hands Evan the letter*

Connor: your cast. no one’s signed it.

Evan: uh no. no one has.

Connor: gotta sharpie?

Evan: huh?

Connor: gotta sharpie? im gonna sign it.

Evan: *handing the sharpie to Connor* w- whuh uh why?

Connor: *shrugs* feels right.

Evan: i wish i could do that

Connor: what?

Evan: UH, IMEAN—

Connor: no wait- dude.

Evan: i mean uh, i meant that i wish i could just be, y’know impulsive like that.

Connor: Why Cant you be?

Evan: i uh, my heads pretty messed up, and stuff like that just, makes it worse i guess.

Connor: well theres some thing we have in common— were both fucked up in the head.

*the bell rings*

Evan: oh shoot! i missed the bus—

Connor: i’ll give you a ride.

Evan: are you sure i mean i can walk its not far-

Connor: all the more reason, i probably have to pass it on my way home anyway, cmon.

——

they meet Zoe in the parking lot

Zoe: I have Late practice today

Connor: whatever, gotta passenger.

Zoe: who the fuck would be crazy enough to trust your ability to drive?

Evan *being Brave*: Me Apparently?

Zoe: Uh, Evan Right?

Evan: yeah, uh, yeah.

Zoe *holding her hand out to be shaken*: i’m Zoe, we’ve met though right?

Evan wipes his hand on his shirt and shakes it: yeah, uh, nice to formally meet you, Zoe.

Zoe: i’m off, don’t kill him stoner.

Connor: i wont Princess

Evan breathing heavy: that was,, an eventful ten minutes.

Connor: oh fuck— you cool? or—

Evan: Panic Attack.

Connor: Right, uh

Connor: can you get in the car?

Evan: yeah

*car nonsense*

Connor: Can i start driving or do you want me to wait

Evan: Distractions are good,, Can Uh, Can you Talk about Stuff?

Connor: What stuff!??

Evan: any Stuff!

Connor: Is Zoe okay??

Evan: Sure?!

Connor: Uhh we don’t get along as well as we used to?

we were really close as kids, shes a huge asshole now but *fully venting now*

i kind of miss it you know? having someone to talk to and care about— and i still care about her— but its scary and i always fuck it up! not to mention the fact that our parents hate me— make her see me as some alien and not just a fucked up kid who wants to talk and — (more ranting that i dont feel like writing, but its a whole monologue bro)

Evan: Connor

Connor snaps his mouf shut: yeah

Evan: thanks

Connor: oh that, uh actually helped?

Evan: yeah focusing on your voice and whats real and stuff— it makes a difference.

Neither of them noticed that Connor was just sort of Driving. they end up at the park where in canon Connor commits Sewer-slide.

Evan: i didn’t know there was a park here.

Connor: huh, oh, yeah i guess i just sorta auto piloted, i come here to think.

Evan: About stuff?

Connor: Yeah, Stuff.

*the convo lulls*

Connor: do you have a laptop?

Evan: no, i uh, i left it at home? why?

Connor: give me a second

Connor walks to the car and grabs his back pack out of the back seat

Evan watches Quizzically from the swing-set

Connor pulls out a Sketch Pad and Pen, flipping to a clean page.

Connor: So tell me how to write one of those letters of yours.

Evan: uh, well you start like any other letter- just addressing it to yourself

Connor writing: Dear Connor Murphy,

Evan: and uh, my first one was supposed to be about my ideal summer vacation? since i started in middle school- but you don’t have to—

Connor: thats perfect.

Connor starts to sing for forever,

eventually Evan joins in there is a minor gay moment where they’re holding hands face to face.

the song ends with Connor hugging Evan.

Evan: its- its pretty late.

Connor obviously crying: just— just a couple more minutes.

Evan lets go and grabs Connors sketch book of the ground, closing it and handing it off to him: then how about this, labor day weekend- we actually go.

Connor: what are you talking about?

Evan: being spontaneous?

Connor: o-okay.

and it cuts to black.

theres a small montage here, as the set changes to Connor and Evans bedrooms

sincerely, me is a lament in this context, Connor and Evan are duetting from their respective rooms, writing to themselves.

(the lyrics are completely different and i will not be writing them here because thats too much fucking effort.

but they’re duetting from their bedrooms about making a connection to another person, feeling seen, for the first time. what it felt like and how they really want to keep it up but are afraid of making a mistake and ruining it.

its got some themes of waving thru a window, and a little bit of for forever, but its still largely the same notes just in a different key.)

after wards, Zoe knocks on Connors door to tell him dinner is ready to find him peacefully asleep.

requiem is the same, Zoe sees Connor as Dead to Her instead of actually dead, so some of the wording changes, so and so about how a monster doesn’t deserve peaceful rest etcetera.

school day happens, Connor doesn’t die, but the hot goss is that everyone saw Connor and Evan go home together after school, jared makes a shitty homophobic joke to Evan and Evan kind of tells him off about it. they argue and it culminates in Evan saying “well god forbid I’m friends with someone who isn’t YOU!” or smth like tht and it hits jared right the fuck at home man.

Connor says from the side lines: damn that was pretty hard core dude.

Evan: you have, no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that.

Connor honest to god l a u g h s, theres a number of people who hear it and lose their shit, Zoe being one of them: i have a pretty good idea, wanna get some lunch?

Evan: yeah, sure.

this general routine continues until labor day weekend, when they plan to go on their little escape. theres a short scene of Connor leaving the house with his keys and a backpack.

Connors mom confronts Zoe about his oddly upbeat attitude and hows he’s seemed differently lately Zoe Shrugs but decides to investigate his room.

she finds the letters. the first one is for forever, the theme plays as she reads it frantically, and is signed “Sincerely me (connor murphy)” so she knows its him, i f i could tell her begins but its a real duet between Connor and Zoe and at the end she resolves to try harder to connect to him.

Evan sings disappear to Connor after breaking into a formerly public park, in this context its him confessing that he broke his arm attempting su!c!de. Connor records it, for personal reference.

jared hacks Connors phone and steals the video, posting it to yt, in an effort to ruin their friendship.

Evan and Connor get in a little fight about it, and in the meantime Evan is called to the school to give an assembly because hes a phenomenal speaker and Disappear got like 1000000 views over night.

Zoe and Connor bond a little bit in a short scene before the assembly

Zoe: wheres Evan what happened?

Connor: Kleinman Did!

Zoe: what?

Connor: Why Do you care?

Zoe: because! you look happy around him!

Connor: i, i do?

Zoe: yeah? he could tell the worst joke ever written and you’d crack up. i haven’t heard you laugh like that in years Connor, maybe ever.

Connor: oh.

Zoe: Come back inside?

Connor: y, Yeah.

they all perform You Will Be Found together.

end act 1.

(no more dialogue from here i got tired)

to break in a glove is Connor’s dad trying to reconnect with him, it goes mediocrely, but Connor feels like hes being seen by his dad for the first time in years. its said in metaphors, but this is Connors dads way of saying that if Connor is willing to put in the work, so is he. they hug at the end, things are looking up. some talk of therapy is sprinkiled in the dialogue as they walk of stage together.

Only Us is Evan and Connor saying that they saved each other. its loosely romantic, as its a love song, but they don’t out right say that they’re in love or anything, they don’t know if theyre ready for that. its a promise. the song ends with Connor finally apologizing for pushing Evan over at the beginning of the show.

good for you is sung by jared only, as a power ballad, about losing people you didn’t treasure. its his attempt at an apology, but it ultimately fails, since jared is unable to take responsibility for his own actions. this is where jared and Evan go their separate ways.

Evan’s mom comforts him, as he sings words fail, which is about specifically jared, and how their rocky friendship is ruined and Evan pegs himself as the cause, instead of parents or perfect girl he uses metaphors that apply to best friends— maybe more. and talks about how he didn’t try, he was happy so he ignored that jared was hurting, and how that was really shitty of him. but instead of it being a generally somber song the end is lighter, because Connor is there— waving through his front window.

Evans mom sings So Big/So Small as Evan steps out the front door to embrace Connor and they mime talking about jared, hug and take hands. the house moves off stage in preparation for the finale.

Connor and Evan open the finale saying each others names, and sing it together as the test of the cast (minus jared) joins in, Evans mom taking his hand and Zoe Taking Connors, Evans mom the Murphys and Zoe break off to the back where Evan and Connor finish the final “all i see is sky for forever” while looking into each others eyes, and finish the musical by embracing (maybe kissing if thats ur jam).

#dear evan hansen #deh #connor murphy #evan hansen #zoe murphy #musicals #broadway #deh rewrite i guess? #this is more like the outline of a fic i’ll never write #kd.txt #i was posessed to write this #tree bros

[calumcest]

‘cause all of the stars are fading away (just try not to worry you’ll see them someday)

so i wrote this a while ago while looping stop crying your heart out with meg and sat on it for a bit bc i wasn’t sure whether i wanted to post it or not but y’know what. absolutely fuck it also i think? this is my first ever cashton fic that isnt a drabble like my first ever proper fic? isnt that exciting

@kaleidoscopeminds​ i think you know everything about this fic that you need to know already and i can’t be in sappy hours in the a/ns so all i’m going to say is in case you were under any illusions this is for you in every which way

Growing up isn’t easy. 

Nobody ever told him it would be. You’ll get hurt, his mum would say, eyes big and sad, and he’d shrug and say that’s life, not really understanding what she meant because he was yet to spend three nights in a row staring up at his ceiling, drunk and high and so miserable it somehow felt like everything and nothing at the same time. It’ll be difficult, his manager had warned, when they got their first tour with One Direction, and Ashton had shrugged and said isn’t everything?, not realising that what ‘difficult’ meant was sacrifice; his sleep, his home, his self, everything torn out at the roots and tossed aside for him to gather back into his arms again. 

The hardest part of growing up, though, isn’t when things happen to him, when someone breaks up with him or wakes him up two hours after he’s gone to bed or puts him on another plane six hours after he’s just got off one. The hardest part of growing up is when he looks around him and realises I’m not happy. 

It doesn’t hit him like a train, full-force to the face and leaving him no room for doubt. It comes piecemeal, comes in late-night conversations with Luke where he exhausts himself just to make sure Luke’s going to be okay until the morning, comes in brief flickers of clarity when he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks I don’t know who you are, comes in a moment where he walks past someone who smells like home and his heart, which he’d almost forgotten was still nestled somewhere in his chest, clenches and constricts. I’m overthinking it, he’ll tell himself, forcing down the panic that rises in his chest, or sometimes it’s just because I’m tired, or high, or on a comedown. It’ll pass. And it does, passes from his heart to his veins, from his veins to his lungs, but never strays any further from his core than that. 

So he just tries not to think about it, and most of the time, it works. Most of the time, he’s too drunk or high or tired to really think about it, for it to do anything more than thrum dully in his veins, buzzing below the surface. He tries to dampen it - never says no to a party, always says yes to a drink - but even when he’s laughing and dancing and grinning up at the ceiling of some dark, grimy nightclub in fuck knows where, it’s there with him, prickling at his skin like it’s trying to find a way to build a home under it. 

Being the oldest doesn’t help, either. It’s Ashton Luke turns to on a dark night, three lines deep and somehow still somewhere between a high and a comedown, and it’s Ashton Michael turns to after three nights with no sleep, exhausted and delirious and muttering I’m not worth it, I don’t deserve it nonsensically under his breath. Ashton has to shelve it, then, has to sit Luke down and let him use Ashton to counterbalance the coke, has to open his arms for Michael to crawl into and let him use Ashton to counterbalance the lack of sleep. He wonders whether Luke and Michael hear the deep breaths he takes to steady himself before he does, whether they know he’s using the air in his lungs to quell his own feelings, push himself down until he barely even remembers who he is besides their counterbalance. He wonders, if they know, whether they even care, whether what he needs matters to them at all.

Calum’s the only one who seems to get it, sort of. He never says anything, never offers any advice or commiseration or consolation, just sits next to Ashton wordlessly as he gets another line up his nose, or stands outside on the balcony at four in the morning while Ashton smokes all of Calum’s cigarettes, or lies next to him in bed while Ashton’s staring at the ceiling, fingers brushing against Ashton’s just to let him know he’s there. It’s something, Ashton thinks, as he’s relishing the bitter drip of the cocaine down his throat, or staring out at a city that isn’t home, or willing himself to cry while it’s still dark in the hotel room but unable to patch enough emotions together to form a single tear. It’s something, but it’s not quite enough to make Ashton feel like the pieces of himself will ever slot together in a way that fits.

And realistically, Ashton knows he can’t carry on like that indefinitely, can’t carry on catching brief glimpses of himself in shop windows and car doors and in Luke’s eyes and thinking I don’t know who that is, but what else is he supposed to do? Luke needs him, Michael needs him, and neither of them particularly seem to care what they’re doing to him. When Luke’s talking quietly, miserably, about missing home and his family and the fucking servo they used to hang out at when they had no money, and Ashton strokes his hair soothingly and says I know, and I’m sorry, he thinks what about me? D’you not think I miss home, my family, the fucking servo we used to hang out at when we had no money? When Michael’s mumbling incoherently into Ashton’s chest, something about not good enough and worthless, and Ashton presses a kiss to the top of his head and says you’re enough, Mike, you’re enough, he thinks what about me? Am I enough? They’ll smile at him brightly the next morning, throw him a quick sorry about last night, restored by all the energy Ashton’s given them, bleeding himself dry for just a few hours of their happiness, but they’ll never do anything more than that. It’s easy for them, easy to drain Ashton and hang around on the sidelines, bored, while he struggles to replenish himself only for them to get impatient and siphon off whatever he’s managed to get back again. But what else is Ashton supposed to do, leave them parched and gasping? 

What Luke and Michael don’t - or maybe won’t - see, Calum does. He sees the way Ashton zones out of conversations, the way he slumps on the sofa, the way he’ll close his eyes for a moment before plastering a smile on his face and cracking a joke. He always sighs, and usually gets that little crease between his eyes, but he says nothing.

He’d tried, once. You’re exhausting yourself, he’d said, passing his half-smoked cigarette to Ashton. Ashton had taken it, looked out at the light-polluted sky in front of them, and shrugged. Yeah, he’d thought, edged with bitterness. Who else is going to? 

See, that’s the thing about growing up. Ashton doesn’t have his mum seeing him exhausted and upset anymore, doesn’t have her around to march to his friends’ houses and tell their parents exactly what she thinks about how their kid is treating her son. He doesn’t have anyone to cradle him at night while he cries, no more home-cooked dinners brought to him in bed, no more trips to the supermarket for three tubs of ice cream. Nobody’s there to pick him up or to put him back together again, or to tell him when enough is enough. Nobody pulls the strings anymore; they were cut long ago, and Ashton’s only just starting to see the fraying threads. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Ashton blurts to Calum one night, chain-smoking Calum’s cigarettes on the balcony of their hotel room. Calum doesn’t say anything at first, just hands him his next cigarette. “I can’t.” He doesn’t know whether Calum’s going to know what he means, doesn’t even know whether he wants to be saying it, but the words claw their way up his throat and out of his mouth before he has a chance to force them back down, a well-worn little dance between his head and what’s left of his heart. 

“You don’t have to,” Calum says, after a minute. He doesn’t, it’s true. It’s in Ashton’s hands, the decision to step away, to hold his hands up and say I’m not strong enough for this. But that would mean taking his life into his own hands, and Ashton’s not strong enough for that either. 

“Yeah, I do,” Ashton says, and Calum just sighs, and hands him the lighter. 

It’s not until Ashton’s almost finished the next cigarette that Calum speaks again. 

“What do you need?” 

It’s such a simple question, but it stops Ashton in his tracks. He spends all his time thinking I don’t want this, I need something else, there’s something missing, there’s something wrong, but when Calum picks up the other end of that thread of thoughts and asks what do you need? What can I give you? Ashton realises he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know what he needs, he just knows that he needs something, something that isn’t this. And he doesn’t know what he wants, either, just knows that he wants something, something that isn’t this. He doesn’t fucking know anything, because he barely even knows who he is anymore, doesn’t know the hazel eyes that blink back at him in the mirror every morning, doesn’t know the curly hair he catches in the window of a passing bus. How is he supposed to know what will stitch the disparate parts of himself that he still has a hold of back together into something resembling Ashton Irwin when he doesn’t even know who Ashton Irwin is? 

“I don’t know,” he says eventually, and Calum hums, like he’s mulling the answer over in his mind. 

“Alright,” he says after a moment, like it’s okay that Ashton’s falling apart in front of him into too many shards to ever fit back together again, and hands Ashton another cigarette - there are only two more left, now - passing him the lighter along with it. Michael would probably frown at him if he knew, Ashton thinks, as he puts the cigarette between his lips, and Luke would whine and bitch and try and steal one of them off him, but Calum gets it. He gets that Ashton’s relishing the way his lungs are hot and burning from it, the way he’s choking from the inside out, revelling in the feeling of choking on something that isn’t himself, for once. He doesn’t like it - Ashton can see that in the way his lips are slightly down-turned, the glances he keeps sending Ashton out of the corner of his eyes - but he gets it. He always gets it, always knows when Ashton needs to be alone and when he needs to be with someone and when he needs to be high and when he needs to be sober, and Ashton’s never really thought too hard about it, but now he can’t help but wonder whether Calum gets it because he understands.

“Do you ever feel it?” Ashton asks. Calum looks at him for a moment, a little calculating, like he’s trying to work out just what Ashton means by that and how honest of an answer he should give, then looks out at whatever fucking city they’re in today, and shrugs. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” he says. 

“What do you do?” Calum shrugs again. 

“Let myself feel it,” he says. Ashton takes another drag of his cigarette, lets the words sink in with the nicotine. 

“Why?” Calum throws Ashton a look. 

“There’s nothing else I can do.” Ashton exhales heavily, watches the cloud of smoke as it turns from a plume into a mist between the two of them. He knows what Calum’s doing. He’s telling Ashton, as gently as he can, that it’s okay. And, Ashton thinks, he’s testing Ashton, challenging him to say you could repress it like me, seeing whether in the darkness and a few pints down he’ll admit to it. 

(But the city’s still lit up in front of them, and Ashton’s barely even tipsy.) 

“D’you think it’ll always be like this?” Ashton’s not even entirely sure what he’s asking. Will life always be this crazy, maybe, or will I always feel this way? 

“No,” Calum says, reaching for the pack of cigarettes again as Ashton stubs out the one he’s been smoking, and holds his hand out for another. He sounds so sure, so certain that things are going to get better somehow, and it makes the scraps of Ashton’s heart ache. 

“Are you just saying that to try and make me feel better?” Calum huffs out a laugh. 

“No,” he says again, a smile playing at his lips. “I’m saying it because it’s what you need to hear.” 

“What’s the difference?” 

“It’s not going to make you feel any better.” 

He’s right. It sort of makes Ashton’s stomach clench, the thought that things aren’t always going to be this way, because it means something’s got to change, and nothing will change until Ashton changes it. It’s comforting, in a way, knowing that he’s not always going to feel like this, but it’s equally as frightening as it is reassuring, because it means Ashton’s going to have to take a deep breath and step off the precipice he’s been hovering on for years, eyes wide open and still no idea where he’s going. 

But, Ashton realises, although his stomach is constricting and his heart has skipped a beat or two, he doesn’t feel any different. He doesn’t feel any more afraid, any more overwhelmed, doesn’t feel unsettled or like the weight pressing down on his chest has got any heavier. He doesn’t feel better, but he doesn’t feel worse, and that’s more than he’s ever had when allowing himself a peek into this abyss.

It doesn’t quite hit him so much as it nudges at him, knocking politely and waiting for him to answer the door. Ashton hadn’t known what he needed - still doesn’t know what he needs, doesn’t even know what he wants or where he wants to end up - but Calum had. Calum had found the right words, known exactly how to balance comfort and honesty, known where to draw the line and where to step over it. 

Ashton takes another long drag of the cigarette in his hands, watches it as it burns almost all the way down to the filter, and then stubs it out, lays the butt in the middle of his frankly impressive collection, and moves to the edge of the balcony, letting his forearms rest on the railing and his hands hang in the cool night air. Calum seems to sense that it’s a silent invitation, and steps forward to join him, arm pressing against Ashton’s when he leans forward over the balcony. 

Calum holds out the last cigarette, digs around in his pocket for the lighter Ashton had handed back to him after his last cigarette, that silent this might be my last after lighting every one that neither of them believed anyway, and holds it out in the palm of his hand for Ashton to take. Ashton puts the cigarette between his lips, but hesitates with his hand halfway to Calum’s. His lungs feel full, now, smoke and tar and something else, something Ashton can’t quite place but knows he doesn’t mind. 

Instead of pulling the lighter out of Calum’s hand, Ashton brings his fingers up and links them with Calum’s, squeezing their hands together. It’s a little uncomfortable, the lighter hard and still warm between the two of them, but Ashton doesn’t mind. It’s sort of grounding, in a way. 

What do you need? Calum had asked. 

You, Ashton’s saying, hand tightening around Calum’s. When Calum’s fingers curl around his own, warm and soft, thumb stroking gently over Ashton’s, Ashton knows what he’s saying. 

Okay. 

taglist: @callmeboatboy @sadistmichael @clumsyclifford @angel-cal @tirednotflirting @cthofficial @tigerteeff @haikucal @queer-5sos​ @i-am-wierd-always @stupidfuckimgspam​ @bloodyoathcal​ @pixiegrl​ @pxrxmoore​ @clumthood​ @another-lonely-heart​ @calumscalm​ 

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#cashton #5sos fic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #god...how much of a bop is stop crying your heart out though #like on a real that song SLAPS #ok maybe slaps is the wrong word but its like...positive depression. uplifting depression #i vibe with it so hard #and any excuse to write loosely based on an oasis song #god idk why i'm so nervous to post this #anyway...heres stop crying your heart out #alcohol tw #drugs tw

[lilgurlwithcomplicatedfeels]

Emotions pt 2

This is the extension of when my sister moved out. We had a small group of friends who lived nearby, and we would visit them occasionally. Lets call these people "Family B" So we'd visit them every once in a while, and my sister would always chat with family B and very often go and sleepover with them. Remember, she was still struggling with depression. One day, my mom goes out with our grandma in london. She desperately needed a break, and little did I know. My sister had decided to go to a party against my mom's wishes. This party had boys, and possible drugs and drinks. This was after prom, my sister wasnt even graduated yet. My mom gets angry and texts my sister to go back home, and I'm at home with no idea what happened. The next morning my sister lets in Family B, and for some reason Family B decides to take us. My mother was terrified of what was happening, and was so mentally unstable at that moment. Family B said they weren't giving either me or my sister back. At the time I was 16, but I'd lived a sheltered life so I had no idea what exactly was happening. My sister was 18. Nearly graduating. I had no idea what was happening and just treated this trip as a sleepover, no idea why this was happening. While I was there at Family B's house with my sister, I started to get sick. I threw up and they were trying to give me medication that I'd never had before. I rejected their offer after trying one of their things. I just rested on the balcony, feeling pale as all hell. Exausted and very unwell, at the time I didn't know any of my choices. All I knew was "stay." While that was happening, my sister didn't even help me. She just patted my back in an uncomfortable way, in which I told her to just not to touch me. Then Family B told my sister and I that we'd have to go back. Or at least I would. I vollunteered to go back, telling my sister that she can stay. Her reaction to possibly going back was filled with anxiety and such. I packed my things again, feeling weaker than before. Pulling my backpack upstairs. I see my dad and something lifts me up, suddenly I feel like I have the energy to carry my bag properly. I had no idea what happened there, but i realized. I was supposed to be with my parents, not Family B. I put my bag into the car and sit in the back, noticing my mom in the front. Then she turns around, I'm shocked by the sheer amount of tears on her face. My steeled emotions turned to putty as I realized she wasnt even mad, she was just terrified. We spend most of the time home for a bit, and I'm mostly getting better with her. We talk alot while my sister is gone, and we realize we barely knew anything about each other. I keep going to school and keep feeling heart wrenched while seeing her on the bus. She cries, I cry. But the more I think about it, I did miss her. But the thing I hated was the fact that she took so much time away from me and my mom. She wanted all the attention and energy from my mom when she had none. Me on the other hand was happy with anything, I'd always be happy with even the smallest thing. Like candy bars or a card. I was easily satisfied, and that made it easier on my mom and dad. After my sister graduated, I spent most of my time with my mom. Chatting with her, and seeing her grow. The longer my sister was gone for, the more my mom grew into learning about trauma and how to handle it. She sometimes consulted me about the teachings she was recieving, and I would be able to explain the methods and how to go through with some of them. But most of all I was learning more about her, at that time she loved cooking. Then it turned to resolving trauma, and we looked towards therapy for my mom and sister. While Me, in the middle. I dealt with the frustration of seeing my sister just act like she's being judged too harshly. I just most of all communicated that I was the one watching most of the time, and the stupidest thing came out of my sister's mouth at that time. "You're not the watcher anymore, I wont let you be in the middle." HAH! I'm your sister and Mom's

kid. I will always be in the middle. Then she proceeded to get upset at mom for communicating with me. From which I responded with a small cry, "i want to know". Then she says I dont need to know. But I'd been shut down and left behind in the closet of living a sheltered life. I was much too sheltered and this was both my mom and sister's fault. But now my mom was revealing the truths to me, and I started to see more about reality. Its not easy at all, you have to make sure you get shit done or else you get evicted. You have to make sure you do things or else you'll not recieve legal money from the gov't. The more I talked with my mom and learned about what my sister said about me, the more I felt hurt. Yeah its fine if you told me face to face, but you said that to mom. Pushing her away from me as I moved along all alone with no one to confide to about my own familial issues. When she moved out. I don't know what exactly was going through my head, but I was suddenly completely against my sister coming back. I was paying for the place myself now, and I didnt want it anymore. As in I didn't want the tense feeling that my sister made whenever they came over. Of course, my sister just blamed it on my mom. Saying it's her who is making the air tense. But to be honest, both me and my mom just couldn't handle my sister being back. So the best thing for me and my mom, instinctually I knew. We had to cut her out of our lives. But my mom still held out hope that they would come back. Back to normal, but the more she tried. The more my sister just deteriorated. Now its just me and my mom, safe from anything my sister says now. My mom is finally telling my grandma to stop supporting my sister so she gets a taste of real life. So she understands how hard it is to live by themselves. Honestly they'll always be babied until they actually live on their own, without talking to any people. Just chores and saving money so they wouldn't have to worry about medical bills. But of course, ordering out is more important. Going to starbucks is more important, going to abandoned buildings is more important. Her friends were always more important. This is my goodbye. I refuse to help you in any way because you refused to help mom when she asked. When you came around, you'd lay around and let skittles(her service dog) Bark and affect Sully(mom's service dog) to bark as well. When skittles isnt around sully is perfect. He behaves and doesnt bark at all. Theres so much more I want to write but I'm scared to move forwards to those words, I myself am not ready to say the words left over in my head. So. Good bye, and have a nice life. I still love you but stay the hell away from me and my family.

[samwritesforyou]

ARMY ZIP drabbles

JOURNEY

you and joon have been pretty close friends since you first came to this new highschool. your family has been moving around a lot, so you never stayed long in any schools, until this one.

your mom eventually got to know namjoon’s mother and they became friends as well.

there were always some activities for your class, and one day it was a trip for the whole day, where teachers took all of you to the place that was very similar to some kind of jungle.

it was no surprise to find this type of  surroundings in australia, so nobody was really super stoked by it.

but the exciting part was, that your main partner for the day was joon, and together you’d get lost, just enjoying each other’s company.

to avoid punishment, joon took the situation under his control and called the teacher in charge, bluntly lying about the fact that you two have gone home already. you two didn’t mind spending more time together, especially in this beautiful scenery.

after all you’d find your way out of there and joon would walk you home from the bus station, because it already got dark, and he would give you his grey jacket, because you said under your breath a silent, “how much colder can it be..”

your mom was waiting for you on the porch already - pretty mad - and joon took all the blame on himself, apologising and saying that you two got lost because of him.. she actually forgave the both of you and even invited joon to stay for a cup of tea.

the whole time beside the dinner table you couldn’t take your eyes off him, and he did the same, captivating your eyes with his..

in the hall you were just simply talking about how much fun the whole day was and you both ended up in a warm hug towards the end of your conversation.

since you’re both still underage, your mom makes a firm statement that she will drive namjoon to his own home and as you waved him goodbye you were smiling, because.. damn, he forgot to take his jacket back from you. and you couldn’t help yourself but realise that it smelled just exactly like him.. like home.

PERFECT

yoongi was this perfect friend. you didn’t know him for too long, but it didn’t matter. your personalities clicked and you started to spend a lot of time together.

he was the best baseball player in the whole school and you were fortunate enough to always be by his side, whenever some victory happened.

but what you missed on - in the early stages of your friendship - were the losses, the bad things that happened.

one day you were just passing by the slightly opened door of the changing rooms, when you heard a slight whimper.

you immediately stopped and carefully peeked through the crack, trying to inspect who’s inside.

you saw light hair and a small posture, crouched on the floor near the lockers, shuddering their shoulders, with arms wrapped around their knees, as they desperately tried to hide the sounds that sometimes escaped their lips.

it didn’t take you long to realise who it was..

“yoongi?..” you called, softly, opening the door further and making your way inside.

“i fucked it up.. i fucked it all up,” was all he said, burying his head even tighter to his knees.

so he wasn’t perfect, after all, huh? everyone kept painting yoongi as this cold and professional kid, but they just never got to see the more emotional and vulnerable side of him.

perhaps he didn’t let them see it.

didn’t want them to see it.

but he let you. and when you dropped down on the floor next to him, consoling him and patting his hair, he let you.

when you leaned towards him, he started to cry even harder, letting his emotions out, and finally felt how it was to be truly supported by someone.

that’s what true friends do, right? being here for each other in good and bad times.

ZOMBIE

it was the end of it all. the world has gone insane since last week, when a massive zombie virus broke out... somehow.. to the whole world.

Nobody knows exactly what or how it happened, but even though everyone was fairly “educated” on the apocalypse matter from all the movies and books, loads of people were still getting turned on a daily basis.

in other words, it was terrifying, and not as adventurous as in the fiction.

you were fortunate enough to find yourself, after days on the road, in the abandoned house, still filled with some leftover foods around.

you just did your evening routine and came back to your “room”, where you stood by a small window, looking out and trying to concentrate your attention on the lightest of sounds.

and you finally heard it. a zombie was approaching from the hallway, their grunting clear as day for your careful hearing.

you had no weapon, no help around..

you didn’t know exactly what was your plan, but.. something will have to do.

you grabbed the nearest brick into your palm and squeezed hard, getting nervous.

the undead person already came into the view, feeling your presence and moving in your direction.

when there were only a few meters between the two of you, the gunshot blazed through the air.

the body fell to the floor and you saw a man standing in the hallway, rifle in his strong hands.

“hey.. you okay?” a man said, fixing his freshly dyed purple hair.

“yeah..”

“good. i think you could use a friend in this apocalypse,” a man smirked and gave you a bag with some food, by this making a peace pact between you.

STREET

hoseok was an international student from korea, who was studying art and dancing majors.

you were friends for some time already, but both of you never had time to actually hang out outside of the school grounds.

you were into filmmaking and your study hours were crazy, to say the least.

but finally, summer holidays were approaching. you didn’t make any plans, because most of your friends went travelling, and your buddies from the dorms were supposed to leave to go back to their lovely families.. you just didn’t have that.

one of the final days of the semester before the big break, you were just wandering around the campus, finally having nothing to do, after months of hard work..

and suddenly your phone rang. it startled you, on the screen showing “hoseok” with his number underneath it.

you picked it up, of course.

“hey, are you in town?” you heard an exciting tone on the other end.

“yes, actually..”

“wanna hang out? come to that park near the school, in 20 minutes?”

and it was settled. when you dragged your ass over there, you came perfectly on time and hoseok was already waiting for you, sitting on top of the many big cans that were laying around here.

he simply handed you the graffiti colour. you couldn’t help yourself but to make a surprised expression, but took the paint anyways.

“let’s create something!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and started to dance around, filling the walls with some slogans and pictures of all sorts.

he noticed you hesitating at first, and gently put his elegant hand on your back.

“heyy,  don’t be afraid, it’s my first time with this kind of medium too! i just figured we could do something for the first time together and not worry about the result that much, most important thing is just having fun, isnt it?” he smiled at you warmly, and you just couldn’t help it and put your arm towards the wall, spraying his name on it.

YOUNG

it was one of those days, when everything seems quiet, slow and kind of lazy.. it was just another weekend in your small city, far far away from all the excitement of the bigger metropolis.

you were fortunate enough to meet one of the closest people in your life here, though.

you came over to jimin’s place, as you have previously agreed on.

he made you some tea. kettle boiled in the silence of his apartment and you smiled at each other, when he picked your favourite kind.

you knew each other well. and jimin knew even better about your current struggles, as of the problem that you’re trying to become a tattoo artist, but it wasn’t quite working out yet.

he was always trying to help and make things better.

so when you ended up in his room, he took out a marker from his pencil-case and showed it to you, excitedly.

“what should i do with it?” you chuckled, but sadness still prevailed on your face.

“draw on me,” he simply said and put the tool firmly into your hand, “imagine i’m the canvas and you’re about to ink my skin.”

“okay..” it seemed a little weird and embarrassing at first, but after a while you both got fully into it and your passion literally blossomed in front of his eyes and reflected there as beautiful sparkles.

“youth?..” he asked, looking at his arm, with a genuine warm smile.

“youth. let’s never forget about this. when we’re still young, you know?” you smiled and then jimin started laughing with his angelic voice.

“i like it! write more, please..”

you ended up writing things like “i  me”, “happy song :)” and a big “nevermind” in some really rough, but pretty font on his ribs.

“i really like this one..” jimin said, truly amazed.

and a few years later, after you’ve finally made it out of the small town and owned your own tattoo studio, jimin came with a request of nevermind on his ribs.

MAFIA

it was really risky to try and accomplish this mission and you knew it.

there were literally myths and stories going around this mafia, especially their leader.

nobody never described how he looked, just that he was ruthless and never spared their enemies.

all the other heads of gangs had exceptions for some people, but not him.

and when you were caught, illegally transporting some dangerous.. “items” by one of his people, you were immediately captured. this wasn’t supposed to happen and now you knew your fate.

you were held hostage for some days, but now you’re finally on the way to meet the master head behind all of this.

you were pushed into this luxurious room, doors closing loudly behind you. but it was empty..

after the uncomfortable silence the backdoor of this strange place opened and you saw him come in.

his expression was grim and intimidating, but changed in a heartbeat when your eyes met.

“taehyung?..” your voice cracked in between the pronunciation of his name and you were just.. astounded.

you were close friends until last two years, because you suddenly lost contact with each other.

“are you okay?” he immediately rushed to you, uncuffed your hands and wrapped you in a warm hug, dropping his stern facade this instant. in that second all your memories from when you were younger and just having fun together popped up in your head and you couldn’t help but only hug him tighter.

when you pulled away after a while, you cupped his cheeks with your hands and stared into his eyes, “how the fuck did you get into all of this mess?”

you just wanted him to stay this innocent and pure boy you always knew..

“i should ask you the same thing then,” he frowned his brows and pouted.

“i guess we’ll have to figure it out somehow..” you turned your head towards the doors, that slowly clicked as someone was clearly ears dropping you.

“now it’s only you and me, partner.”

MESSENGER

you were just an ice cream truck worker, giving out yet another frozen treat to a happy family in front of your face. ugh. you didn’t like your job one bit. but what can you do in summer, when you don’t have enough money from your usual income like drawing or writing articles, right? next second you look up from your phone and another customer is standing there. “can i get some ice, please? just ice,” he says firmly and tries to keep up a smile, but it breaks a few times, because the man looks genuinely injured on the side of his head. “are you sure? you should call a doctor for that-“ you can’t even finish your sentence when he just pulls his hand into the ice-cubes container himself and pushes it against his temple, part of the ice melting and some of it falling down. suddenly he’s checking his phone and then frantically looks around, not loosing his cool image. then his eyes dart back at you and he says, “do you think i can hide behind the truck? you’d still stand there so its not suspicious that the truck is here by itself?” he really seemed to be in a hurry, so you just nodded your head yes and he was already crouching next to you, in a still position. soon a group of bulky men appeared, coming to you and asking if you havent seen a younger guy with longer brown hair, tattoos and piercings. you have, and he has been hiding just next to your legs. “no, i’m sorry,” you said with an innocent smile and eventually they went away. when the air was clear, the man finally stepped away and most adorable smile appeared on his face. he was holding a small transparent package, full of white crystals. from all the happiness he kissed the package and then patted you a little awkwardly on the shoulder. “thank you so much for covering me. i’m jeongguk, by the way,” he stretched his tattooed arm towards you and you shook hands. “can i get an ice cream now?” he said, a little bit embarrassed, as he stood in front of the truck now, like a normal customer.

#namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts army zip #army zip #army zip 2020 #bts drabble

[gottlem]

you belong with me (gigi x crystal)

a/n - some of this isnt proofread so im SORRY if it gets messy at the end it is literally 3am. also this is my first fic so pls be kind i dont know what im doing like at all. (also keep a look at for slight jackie x jan) this was inspired by someone wanting a fanfic based off of you belong with me by taylor swift and i loved the idea so here we are and i am sorry.

-----

Gigi and Crystal are best friends. Growing up living so close to each other made them an absolute power-duo, for years on end they have been inseparable at all times. When they were younger, Gigi would sleep over at Crystals every single weekend and neither of them would ever get sick of eachother. They spent their nights giggling at nothing and making pinky promises “to never ever not be friends” and that they would be each other's “favourite person” forever, because they didn’t know that life can get a tad bit more… complicated when you start to get a little older. Living in ignorant bliss of the impending doom of high school, they would spend their time in their own little bubble, making the most of each other's company. In their minds, it wasn’t a question whether or not they loved each other. The answer was there without even having to ask the question, but of course they were too young to fully understand anyway.

In her early teens, Crystal would slowly realise that if young Gigi and Crystal were a boy and a girl, everyone would have joked about them being together with them being so close, but since they had been two little girls, they were just best friends in everyone’s eyes. Crystal would also slowly realise that ‘just best friends’ isn’t really where she wanted to stay with Gigi, but that truth wouldn’t come for another few years. She learned about the term ‘lesbian’ when there was a rumour in the 7th grade that she was one. It hadn’t fully occurred to her that girls could like girls in that way, but when she did google what it meant on a random wednesday night, it seemed so obvious. Natural. Of COURSE girls can like girls, they’re so pretty! Needless to say, it didn’t take her very long to understand that maybe the rumour was actually true- but nobody needed to know that. Not even Gigi. Definitely not Gigi. To be honest, she didn’t know where her friend even stood on topics like this, but they had never even talked about boys, so she absolutely didn’t want to risk bringing up girls. 

In 7th grade, Gigi already knew what a lesbian was. She heard talks about her best friend being into girls, but she paid it no mind. If Crystal was gay, she’d tell her, right? Gigi could be trusted with that kind of stuff. Either way, she wouldn’t bring it up. Maybe Crystal hadn’t even heard about it, maybe she was completely oblivious. Yeah. That must be it. It was around this time Gigi realised she herself might like girls. But it had nothing to do with Crystal. Nothing at all. In fact, the topic of relationships had never even come up between them. In 8th grade, Gigi started to get little crushes, exclusively on girls. This was the year she decided she was a lesbian. By then, the rumours about Crystal were long forgotten, but her friend’s sexuality was almost always in the back of Gigi’s mind. Crystal had never expressed interest in boys (or girls for that matter), but then again neither had Gigi. She knew she would have to come out to Crystal at some point - there was no WAY she was hiding a future girlfriend from her best friend. 

One night in the summer before 9th grade, Gigi slept over at Crystal’s house. Just like old times, except now both girls had quite a big secret they were hiding from each other, completely unbeknownst to the fact that it was the exact same secret. Gigi was going to tell her by the end of the night. She was SURE of it. The hours passed like minutes and before the girls knew it, the sun had completely set outside and the moon shone down into Crystal’s brightly coloured bedroom (some would think it’s decor is all over the place, but Gigi would describe it as being perfectly Crystal). The pair had settled into a slow, but somehow not very sleepy conversation despite the time, by around 1am. If Gigi was going to tell her, it was now or never. Before she could change her mind, Gigi had looked Crystal in the eye and started with “I really need to tell you something”. She had rambled on about how much she trusted Crystal, and how much she wanted her to accept this. Crystal didn’t have any idea what Gigi could possibly be leading up to, but she did absoluetly not expect to hear “I’m gay, Crys” coming from her friend’s mouth at 1 in the morning. 

The confession left Crystal speechless. Of course she didn’t judge Gigi, she was gay too! She was just shocked. How long had Gigi known? How long have they both known and didn’t tell eachother? It took Gigi’s tearful eyes and furrowed brows to tear Crystal out of her overthinking. Shit. She hadn’t even responded. 

“Crystal. Are you mad? Oh my god you’re mad aren’t you? Or like weirded out? I can go if you want. I get if you’re like uncomfortable with me staying over now-”

“Gi”

“-I don’t have to sleep in  your room. I’m sorry I told you. We never talk about this kind of stuff why did I think telling you would be ok? I-”

“Gigi!” Crystal shook Gigi’s shoulders to get her attention. Her eyes were bloodshot and Crystal cursed her brain for short circuiting when it did. She knew she had to tell Gigi now. 

“Me too” her voice came out as a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the room with ease. It was Gigi’s turn to be stunned into silence. Neither of the girls said anything. Crystal just hugged her friend. She didn’t stop until they woke up in the morning. That week, Crystal let her eyes linger on her friend a little longer than normal every time they passed each other at school. She found herself re-typing text messages and doing anything to speak to Gigi. She knew what all this meant, but she would not tell Gigi. It was  just a little crush. Everybody gets little crushes.

10th grade rolls around far too quickly than anyone would like to accept. Gigi and Crystal are as close as ever. Well, as close as ‘just friends’ can be, much to Crystal’s (hidden) dismay. Jan and Jackie, who had become very good friends with the pair in 9th grade, would constantly tease Crystal about her not-so-small-anymore crush on Gigi when the other girl wasn’t looking. Of course, Crystal hadn’t told them, but it wasn’t necessarily difficult for the couple to figure it out when she would stare at Gigi every chance she got. The teasing only got more painful about a month into 10th grade, when Gigi started dating the new student, Nicky. Suddenly, Crystal felt herself become awkward around her best friend - someone she used to feel so free with. It was easier to pretend she wasn’t falling in love with her when she was single. But now, now she had someone to be jealous of. Someone to remind her that clearly she’s just not good enough for Gigi. Every now and again, Gigi wouldn’t show up to their usual lunch table, leaving Crystal to third wheel with Jan and Jackie. On these days, Crystal didn’t bother looking for Gigi, she knew who she was with, and frankly she couldn’t bear to see them together. When she first saw the couple kiss, it made her stomach drop. Gigi was waiting for the bus when her friend sat next to her and made easy conversation. They were smiling and laughing until Nicky’s car (because of course she could drive) came to pick Gigi up. When she got in the car, the couple shared a moment far too intimate for Crystal’s liking. She pried her eyes away until she heard the car leave.

By Winter break, Gigi and Nicky had been dating for three months. Crystal wasn’t very familiar with how their relationship was going - she knew it would only hurt her if she always asked Gigi about it. If Gigi wanted to talk to her about it, she would bring it up, and apparently Gigi really didn’t want to talk to her about it. Crystal was fine with this. Well, Crystal was fine with this until there was a knock on her door at 11:58pm on a December night coming from the one and only Gigi Goode. Who was crying. Like, really crying. Crystal took the girl's hand and rushed her to her room, sitting her on the bed they had shared (platonically!!!!) many times before. She let her cry. Crystal had learned in her 16 years of life that sometimes, you just gotta cry. Still, the sight of her friend sobbing so much wasn’t an easy one to digest, nor was it one she had seen often. 

After god only knows how long, Gigi’s cries had died down, she was in Crystal’s pyjamas (which Crystal thought was too much for her brain to handle right now, but considering the situation she pushed these thoughts the the back of her mind, as if she hadn’t tried that for the past year anyway) and she was holding a glass of ice water between both hands. It was Crystal who broke the silence. 

“What’s up?” She was quiet, scared that speaking too loudly would cause the fragile girl infront of her to break down again. But she didn’t. Her brows furrowed and she had a look on her face that Crystal couldn’t quite place, something she wasn’t used to by any means after being friends for a good ten years now. 

“It’s nothing. Me and Nicky just had an argument”

“And this is why you came to my house in hysterics in the middle of the night in Winter. Ok, sure.” She deadpans. Gigi gave her a look as if to say ‘you bitch’ but there’s a fondness behind it nonetheless. 

“Ok fine. It’s more than nothing. It feels like all we ever do is argue anymore. We do like, two things; we argue or we mess around, yknow? And I’m kind of sick of it! It’s like I’m here for her to make out with and that’s all that we have going for us. That’s the only good thing. And shouldn’t there be more? Shouldn’t there be romance, and dates and shouldn’t we be able to be stupid in front of eachother and-” She started to cry again, though not as intense as before, definitely enough to stop her little rant. Crystal thought it was for the better, if she heard anymore of that she might start crying herself. She could give Gigi all of that. Hell, she already did for the most part.

Crystal was torn. She wanted to tell Gigi she should break up with Nicky. She knew it would be for the better, for both of them, but she still felt like it would be selfish of her to give that advice. She didn’t want to accidentally take advantage of Gigi, with her being in such a vulnerable space. So she tells Gigi the facts - well, she didn’t really have much (or any) experience so they could be completely false, but to her they seemed quite solid.

“Couples have honeymoon phases. They can’t keep their hands off each other because they’re so obsessed with this new person they have all to themselves and people get carried away. It’s human nature. But that dies down, or it should. Eventually. Couples argue. It’s healthy to disagree and make up every now and again but there comes a point where it’s just too much. I think you know where that point is. I can’t make it up for you, it’s not my relationship, babe” Crystal let the pet name slip without thinking too much about it. She was tired and it was a school night, and her friend was upset. She told herself it meant nothing. Gigi hugged her and fell asleep quite quickly, exhausted from her emotions having taken over.

Nicky was beautiful. Drop dead gorgeous. Painfully stunning. This was a fact, this was understood by boys and girls alike, gay straight or bi. Gigi was lucky to have her, or maybe she wasn’t. Crystal didn’t know anymore. She could see why Gigi had clearly fallen so hard for the french girl, with her fashion forward style and her thick accent that Crystal had no option to admit was just plain sexy. Again, this was all fact. Gigi was also beautiful. That’s why everyone loved them together. Aesthetically, their relationship just worked. But Crystal had a tear stained pillow and a broken girl to prove that aesthetics mean nothing unless there’s love there too. And Crystal loves Gigi. She always has, and probably always will. Crystal didn’t like Nicky. She didn’t like the knowing glares she would get as they passed each other in the hall. It was as if the french girl could read her damn mind and she didn’t like it one bit. It wound her up to no end. She also didn’t like how she would argue with Gigi until she would cry and cry and run to Crystal’s house, sobbing into her pillow. It became routine. The pillow was pushed to the side, specifically for when Gigi came to cry her mascara onto it. Nicky would always apologise the next day. Gigi would always accept it. Crystal felt more and more hopeless.

A few months later, the routine continues. Gigi sends Crystal a text one night in February at around midnight, to say she’s coming over (a new-ish development in the all too familiar routine) and Crystal prepares the signature glass of water and the tear-soaked pillow for her friend. When she opens the door after Gigi’s knocking, she is met with no tears. Actually, she is met with a smile. Crystal just stands there. Gigi walks casually up the staircase and into Crystal’s bedroom, taking the glass of water and sitting cross-legged on her bed, hugging the pillow, but not for emotional support - because it's just comfier. Crystal follows her, a million questions on the tip of her tongue. She sits opposite to Gigi.

“I broke up with Nicky”

Oh.

OH.

“Just now? Oh my god, are you ok?” Crystal hears herself replying before she even knows what to say, she’s glad she didn’t say something stupid.

“No actually, I broke up with her this morning. I was talking to Jan and Jackie about it earlier, but you weren’t there. Plus, I wanted to tell you like this anyways. Here. Feels like tradition. Like it’s come full circle.”

“Are you sure you’re ok though?” It’s honestly creepy to see Gigi so calm over Nicky, after all the tears she had spilled before.

“Yeah. I think it truly ended a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

It’s silent. Crystal feels tense. Like there’s something else to be said, like something else is going to happen. And she’s right. Because when she looks up, Gigi is staring at her, pupils wide and ears red. Crystal feels like she’s under a microscope. A breath gets stuck in her throat. Gigi giggles at it. She giggles and she inches forward. She inches forward and lifts her hands. She lifts her hands to Crystal’s face. And they’re kissing. They’re kissing and Crystal is smiling. When they pull away, Gigi has plump lips and a dumb smile on her face. Crystal loves it. They sit there for a minute, just staring at each other. Letting each other give the moment a second to sink in. When it does, they laugh. And then they talk about it. And then they kiss some more. And then they fall asleep. So what if it took Gigi a bad relationship to see what was standing right infront of her? Now they have each other, and that isn’t going to change.

#well that was a rollercoaster #inspired by taylor swift #the one and only #did u like it #pls say you liked it #gigi goode #crystal methyd #drag race #jan sport #jackie cox #crystal x gigi #gigi x crystal #also yes there is side jackie x jan bc i love them ok #rpdr #rpdr12 #lesbian au #highschool au #kinda fluffy kinda angsty #slow burnish #drag race fanfiction

[just-my-fandom]

Stay on the Bus (Peter Parker x Stark! Reader)

Request; Angsty Peter!!! Okay here I go, reader and peter have been dating for a good two ish years, shes a superhero like Peter and is Tonys daughter. She risked herself to save the world and almost dies in peters arms and its just saddd but Tony can save her???

__________________________________

"Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?"

The tickle of your hair on your face drags you from your unconsciousness, face twisting in pain at the sharp daggers in your side,

"Hey," A voice drags out softly, soothing you when you emit a whimper, "Hey, I'm right here, it's Peter,"

A hand from the voice cups the back of your head, resting in against their chest so you could hear their thudding heart beat,

You let your eyelids pull open, taking in a deep breath and exhaling sharply at the burns,

"Peter?" You question, hand clutching at the suit holding onto you and eyes searching for the voice, "Peter,"

"I'm right here," The superhero tugs off his mask, brown eyes meeting yours to reveal harsh tears, "Im right here Y/N I promise,"

"It hurts," You release a soft sob, Peter brushing hair from your eye's to cup the side of your face, holding it close to his,

"I know," He breathes out a trembling breath, "M-Mr. Stark will be here soon, he's going to help you,"

You shake your head, feeling the tear that slid down Peters cheek fall onto yours, "Dad can't help me,"

"Don't say that," Peter swallows, rocking you slowly to ease you, "Its going to be okay, we'll go back home and we'll be with Ned and MJ again,"

"We should have stayed on the bus," You crack a smile, Peter breaking a laugh and you shut your eye's,

"Kid!" Tony lands on his feet yards away from the two teenagers, Rhodey following quick behind,

"Mr. Stark," Peter looks up at the man in the armor, "She needs help,"

"Karen, check vitals," Tony kneels down at your other side, hand at the wound,

"She is suffering from blood loss, a minor conscusion, a broken wrist, and needs to seek immediate hospitality,"

Tony glances to the side, cursing beneath his breath, "We can't just walk into a hospital in our armor,"

"Mr. St-stark? She's not waking up," Peters panicked and red brimmed eye's look up at Tony, tightening around you, "You have to help her, please, I can't lose her too, Mr. Stark, I just can't,"

"Kid," Tony alerts firmly, eyes sharp, "I'm going to need you to remain calm, for my daughter. You understand? We're going to take her back to my house and aid her there. But you have to go home and tell May you're safe,"

"And leave her?" Peter stammers, a tear falling down his chin, "She risked her life for us, I-I'll call May, tell her Im okay,"

"May needs to see you in person, Peter," Tony growls, "I know you're upset, but you need to trust me,"

"Okay," Peter exhales deeply, slowly letting Tony pull you up bridal style,

"I'll send you the address to my house," Tony nods once, "She'll be okay, kid,"

___________________________________

"Is she alive?"

Tony looks over at the quiet voice at the door, Morgan peaking inside of the bedroom that had a hospitalized device beeping off the sidelines,

Tony forces a chuckle at his daughters question, nodding and extending a hand, "She is,"

"All because you saved her?" Morgan asks, and Tony pulls her up onto his lap, eyes drifting to the girl curled into her blanket, breaths steady,

"I guess I wasnt ready to stop being a superhero huh?" Tony brushes hair from Morgans face, "Wheres your mom, eh?"

"Mommy and Uncle Steve are making lunch with Peter," Morgan answers, smiling, "Cheeseburgers,"

"Ugh, my favorite," Tony sighs, and kisses Morgans cheek, "Why dont you go help them with lunch while I wait for sissy to wake up?"

"Okay!" Morgan giggles, jumping down and taking off out of the bedroom, yelling for Pepper downstairs,

Tony exhales, gaze moving over when you inhale deeply, eyes slowly peeling open, "Dad?" You slowly turn onto your back, looking around, "Where am I?"

"Hey, sweetheart," Tony stands up, crouching down onto the bed next to you, "You're back home. The battles over,"

"Did I do it?" You swallow through your dry throat, rubbing your eye out of exhaustion, "Did I beat Thanos?"

"You did," Tony chuckles weakly, leaning down to kiss your forehead, "How do you feel?"

"Refreshed," You sigh out, and Tony leans back, grinning,

"You should be. You slept for a full three days," He raises an eyebrow, and your eyes widen, looking around again,

"Where is everyone? Are they okay? Peter?"

Tony instantly reaches forward, hands at your shoulders when you begin to sit up, "Hey hey, easy. You still have major injuries. They're all okay, promise. Peter and Steve are downstairs,"

"Thank God," You rest your forehead at his shoulder, Tony placing a hand on your head to hokd you close against him, "I didnt want to die for nothing,"

"First off, you didnt die," Tony points a finger, "Second off, you dont understand how pissed off I am at you for doing that,"

"Sorry," You frown, and Tony sighs, kissing your forehead a second time,

"I forgive you. But no superheroing for a good while," He pulls away, just when you pout,

"Should have seen that coming," You groan as you stand up, Tony taking the hand that didnt have a brace on it,

"I feel like Ive been hit by a bus," You whine, "Dad, save me,"

"Ive already saved your ass once, no more please,"

You snort, Tony chuckling as you step into the kitchen in slow footsteps, all eyes turning to you,

"Sissy!" Morgan squeals, cheeseburger stuffed in her face, "You're not dead!"

"Sure hope not," You laugh, Pepper instantly coming up to cup your face, staring at you before tugging you forward, releasing a sob,

"Im okay Pep," You smile, wrapping your arms around your mother figure, "Im okay,"

"What were you thinking?" Pepper leans back, eyes darting between yours, "You almost died, Y/N. Do you not understand how much that would have effected your father?"

You nod, and Pepper sighs, curling hair behind your ear, "Please, start being more careful,"

"I will," You smile, and she steps back when Steve comes up, his more built figure making you sink back,

"Are you mad at me too?" You ask quietly, Steve looking at Tony then at you,

"No. Im disappointed. Proud that you saved everyone, but, disappointed,"

"Figured," You open your arms, "Can I have a hug?"

Steve rolls his eye's, embracing you carefully when Tony warns him of your sore form,

"Best for last?" You grin at Peter, who remained to stare at you, eyes only flickering to Tony when he feared to come near you,

"Peter?" You release yourself from Steve to slowly walk up to the spider boy, hands coming to your face, "Hey, look at me,"

His eyes move from Tony to you, revealing harsh tears like the night of your near death

"Im okay," You whisper, smiling, "See?" You lean up, allowing your nose to brush his, "Im right here, promise,"

Peter releases a silent sob, stance to prove your father he could remain strong faltering as he collapses into your arms, his own wrapping at your hips and clutching to your shirt,

You shut your eyes tightly to hide your own tears, hand in his hair as you sniff, ignoring the pain in your right wrist,

Tony steps forward to peel Peter from you, but Pepper grabs his arm, tugging him back. He looks at her sternly, but her look is deadlier as she silently told him to let you be,

Peter wipes the tears off his cheeks and sniffs, glancing over to see Tony being dragged by Pepper to make his cheeseburger,

You make sure your dad isnt looking, hand grabbing at the side of Peters head and directing his lips to press firmly to yours,

Peter relaxes against you, eyes shutting, Tony looking up and clenching his jaw, but reminds himself of his wives death stare and continues to silently make his burger,

You slowly pull away, eyes opening to meet Peters, your arm sliding to his backside as you bury your face into his chest, muscles releasing all tension,

Peter looks your dad, who nods once, smiling lightly, Peter exhaling and rubbing your back,

"Y/N!" Morgan runs up, tugging at your hand, "I made your burger, just how you like it! Come on!"

You laugh despite the sob in your throat, following Morgan to the island stools and sitting down, clinking your orange juice with hers,

Tony walks up, arm at your shoulder, and he whispers into your ear, looking at Peter and winking before following Steve and Pepper into the living room,

"What did he say?" Peter asks quietly, sitting at your other side as you take a bite of your burger, humming at the taste od food you havent had in three days,

"Dont eat all the cheeseburgers," You grin, and sip your drink, "Joking. He said that if he sees you kiss me again you're fired. But we both know hes joking,"

"Haha," Peter laughs nervously, "Right,"

__________________________________________

"Dad?"

Tony looks up from where he was wiping his wet hands on a rag, placing the rag in the sink when he finds you in one of his button ups and a pair of old shorts,

"Whats up, bug?" Tony questions, leaning against the counter,

"I'm sorry," You exhale, eyes shutting, "For all of this. Stressing you, and Pepper out, scaring Peter so bad he cried in my arms. You didnt deserve that. I was just trying to do the right thing,"

"Hey, its alright," Tony cups your face, wiping his thumb across your cheek, "You're a Stark, after all. We make stuoid decisions for a good cause,"

"You're not disappointed?" You ask, Tony rolling his eyes and scoffing,

"Hell no. I could never be disappointed in you,"

You crack a smile, "What about mom? Do you think she would be proud?"

"Dont even think about it Y/N Stark! Being a superhero could get you killed!" Tony immitates your mother in a high pitch voice, grinning when You laugh,

"Seems about right," You shrug a shoulder, and Tony grabs your shoulder, pulling You into his chest,

"Love you tons, kid. But you are one day going to give me a heart attack," Tony sighs, and you wrap your arms around him, nose in his shoulder,

"I love you three thousand," You shut your eyes tiredly, enjoying your fathers arms around you in a much needed, long embrace,

"Come on," Tony murmurs in your ear, "Lets get you to bed. Bruce, Wanda and Rhodey are wanting to see you tomorrow,"

"Can I meet this Bucky and Sam Uncle Steve talks nonstop about?" You ask hopefully, following Tony up the stairs of your home,

"Mmm, maybe,"

"Ah come on,"

#tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #peter parker x sister reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x stark reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #pepper potts #avengers endgame #avengers endame spoilers #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine

[comicsnas]

showtime

WARNING: eye gore!!, violence Disclaimer: this is..... an au where guy fieri isnt a cool and chill dude that just likes food. i am very sorry for what i do to him in this. i dont mean it and if the cops knock at my door i will blame it on hussie word count: about 3.7k. i am so sorry

context john gets kidnapped by his mom dave doesnt panic

Los Angeles, CA, Wednesday

“No matter what happens, nobody cancels the premiere,” you say. “Okay? No matter what’s in the news. No matter how bad it gets. The movie drops on Thursday, and people are gonna watch it. Got it? This is a scare tactic and we’re not falling for it. Even if the world is ending, we are premiering this movie and going through with the promo. With or without me.”

Catalena, your manager, has been with you for too long to think that you’re joking. She was who flew you in from Houston to LA back when you were twenty, who let you sleep on your couch until you made enough money to get an apartment, who thought that the message you had for the world was one worthy of her help. She knows that all of this is real, and that she can’t stop you.

Her face says, Dave, you’re scaring me. Her mouth says, “You got it. Could you at least tell me… what you think is going to be in the news that would make us not premiere it?”

“Something bad,” you say. “Hopefully, anyway.”

She tilts her head. “Are you faking your death?”

“Lalonde and I are gonna disappear for a sec,” you say. “How people interpret that is gonna be up to them.”

“Not like you to leave things up to chance,” Catalena says. “Some will think it’s elaborate PR.”

“That’s why I’m only telling you. Lalonde and I are gonna frame this to look serious, and no one else is gonna know what’s going on. You keep your cool, but don’t let anyone know that you’re in on it.”

“I mean, I barely am.” She gives you a Look, a capital L Look, then sighs and nods. “Fine. So if I hear about your presumed death tomorrow, I won’t freak out. At what point am I allowed to assume you are actually dead, and freak out a little bit?”

“If you don’t hear from me in a week,” you say, “then Lalonde and I have been killed by Betty Crocker.”

Houston, TX, twelve years ago

You’re blind.

That’s not true. You’re not blind. You don’t think you are going to be blind. There is no way that you’re fully blind, because the assassin only got your right eye, so it doesn’t make sense for you to be blind, but you’re blind.

The pain might originate from your right eye, but it’s engulfing your entire head by now, and there is something sticky in your left eye and you can’t open it anymore and it burns, and you’re going to go blind, and then you’re going to die in a ditch, in a pool of your own blood, and this is it. It’s over. You and your half sister fucked around on the internet a bunch, got really deep into some conspiracy theories, and barely two weeks after you made the discovery that Betty Crocker definitely, undoubtedly, literally is an actual alien, someone was sent to kill you.

They didn’t manage, so far. They got your eye, and they broke your glasses, leaving a cut on your nose, and a bunch of cuts everywhere else, and you think you cracked your head open when you fell. But you cut their knife hand off, good and clean off, watched it fall to the ground right in front of you. By the time it hit the pavement, the assassin had already turned around and ran away, leaving you to crumple and suffer here by yourself.

This is it.

“Strider?” Rose says. Before the blood trickling into your good eye ruined your vision, you managed to dial her number and call her up, and now you’re lying on your side with your phone pressed to your ear, imagining her in her college dorm room in New York. You were going to visit her there, years ago, after you ran away from your parents. It never worked out. Neither of you has the money. You really wish you could have seen her at least once.

“Yeah,” you croak. “You at home?”

“At the dorm, yes. What’s going on?”

“You gotta go. She sent someone after me, she’s gonna come for you too. If she knows that I know, she’ll know that you know.”

One of the most comfortable parts of friendship with Rose, you’ve found, is that she never asks you to clarify what the fuck you’re talking about. Either she just lets you ramble, or she knows exactly what you mean. “Shit,” she hisses, and you can hear rustling on her side of the line, hopefully from her getting ready. She probably has a getaway bag somewhere, you think. You have one, but not on you right now. It’s too late for that.

“They’ve already hit me, so whoever she sent to you can’t be far,” you say. You try to blink your eye open, but then it hurts the other more, and it burns. You can’t even tell where exactly. It just burns. “Hurry up, Lalonde.”

“They’ve hit you?” she echoes, still rustling, breathing into the phone. On the move. Good. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you say. “Gonna call an ambulance after this. Just get the fuck out and text me later, yeah?”

Rose pauses. You can hear her pause, you can hear everything go very silent for a second. She says, “You called me before you called for help?”

“Yeah,” you say. She told you, once, that there is a quick and easy way out the window of her second-storey dorm room, that lets her balance over to her girlfriend’s room only a few windows ahead. She can’t hide there, it’s too close, but it’s a start. She’ll figure it out, she always will. She was the first person to ever have your back. “Of course I did.”

On a plane, Thursday morning

“What’s on your mind?” Rose asks.

You’re leaned back, staring out the window, listening to the clicking of her knitting needles next to you. The pilot here doesn’t know who he’s dealing with, just that he is flying two rich people and their car to Washington, DC. Your Mustang is in the cargo part of the plane, a vital part of the plan. You’ll torch it later. It was the first car you bought with your own money, after SBaHJ had become big and you had finally paid off your hospital debt.

Rose’s apartment isn’t that old, she got it after Roxy was born and she decided to move to Los Angeles, so you could help each other babysit. Trashing it still felt wrong. A home is a home, but you wanted it to look broken into, to make sure that people put two and two together. This isn’t a Dave Strider marketing scheme, you both got hit. After all the work that you’ve done, at least some of the public should understand what that means.

“Us,” you say.

“That’s very sentimental,” she says. “Are you sure you aren’t mourning your car again?”

“Shut up,” you say, and blindly swat at her, hitting her elbow. She hits you back, hand slapping your shoulder. “It’s a good car.”

Rose hums. When you look at her, she’s already back to knitting. You have no idea what she’s making, but it looks like a onesie for an octopus. “We will be fine,” she says. “We have to.”

You nod, and go back to staring out the window, thinking about what Alma said. “It’s just,” you say quietly. “We gotta start thinking about the endgame, here, don’t we.”

“Start?” Rose echoes. “Dave, we know the endgame to this. We’ve known for a while. The second you landed in the hospital with a cut inside your eyeball, you and I both knew that this would end in death.”

You don’t say anything. She’s right, of course she is. You knew then, and she knew, as soon as you texted her from your hospital bed, and she texted you back from a Greyhound bus. And you tried to forget, you both did, for a very long time. You almost managed, for a whole decade, until last year, someone made you scared and angry enough to ram a sword through his throat. Until Rose came and disassembled the body on your rooftop, and then helped you burn it. Reality has caught up with you, and someone is going to die.

The clicking of her needles has stopped again. You turn your head to look at her, and she’s looking back at you, and her face seems younger than it should be. She is just as scared as you are. Neither of you ever wanted it to go this far. Neither of you wanted to kill.

“I don’t like it either,” Rose says. “But someone is going to wind up dead, and it sure as shit isn’t gonna be us.”

Washington, DC, now

)(IC: u comin or what TG: yeah about that

You’re on the hood of your car. The children -- and Sally, John’s pet hedgehog -- are with the one sitter you still trust. Rose is in position, which means she is at a remote location outside the city holding Guy Fieri hostage. She has sent you a picture of him tied to a chair and gagged, which means that it’s go time.

All according to plan.

TG: how about you come kill me somewhere else instead of home sweet home )(IC: why would i do that TG: dying mans last request? )(IC: stfu lol this is so obviously a trap TG: wow ok so is yours )(IC: fair TG: just thought that you know TG: john means something to both of us and dont try to tell me no because i know he does TG: so like can we maybe duke it out somewhere where i wont accidentally blow him to smithereens TG: innuendo intended )(IC: UG)( )(IC: gross TG: lmao TG: anyway bethany you know me and you know im comin with c4 in my backpack if im comin TG: do you really want that around your son or can you just get off your ass and meet me here so john stays safe )(IC: u reely think ya have a fighting chance to even get that far )(IC: buoy you set one foot in my house and ya get spearfished TG: yeah not really making a great point for me to come there rn TG: just thought maybe youd wanna be with your guy guy )(IC: who TG: you know TG: guy the guy )(IC: tf

You text her the picture that Rose sent, just Guy Fieri looking miserable, no indication of whether or not you or Rose are with him.

)(IC: )(-EY )(IC: motherglubber what do u think yoar doin TG: yoar??? TG: thats literally not a word. wym you oar?? what TG: anyway im gonna dismember this asshole if you dont agree to keep john safe and come here and im gonna start with the frosted tips )(IC: FIN--E )(IC: cant effin wait to be done with you )(IC: ill come krill ya if its so shrimportant just gimme the location TG: ok shrimportant is actually pretty funny TG: [coordinates] TG: see you soon

She drives a fuchsia Jaguar that looks like Xzibit threw up all over it, because of course she does. You watch it leave from your perch on your Mustang, then slide off the hood. shes gone, you text Rose. get ready to bounce

Before you leave, you turn back toward you car, and gently pat the roof. “See you soon,” you repeat, “for one last ride.”

Look, it’s a good car, alright.

Later on in the plan, once you’ve convinced John to come with you, and Rose has joined you in the no doubt brutal course out of the house littered with security guards, the three of you will pack into this car, and you will drive. You will be tailed, you know you will. Rose and you estimate two to three SUVs with more security personnel that will follow you, and sooner or later, you won’t stand a chance against them.

So, you’ll call the cops. You don’t usually do this -- even during all these years, neither you nor Crocker ever called the police on each other, and technically, you still won’t, today. You will just anonymously call authorities, and tell them about a burning car by the side of the road. Then you will hang up, and you and Rose and John will hop out of a moving vehicle as you crash your beloved Mustang and have it go up in flames. Authorities will come and find Dave Strider’s infamous car, and hopefully that’ll get people talking.

Crocker’s guys will hopefully exit their cars and go looking for you, or at least for John. It’s an easy con from there -- while they look, you will steal their SUVs and drive off toward your safehouses. Simple. No sweat.

“This better work,” you mutter to yourself, then leave your car behind and start climbing the fence around Crocker manor.

You’ve been here once before, while she was out and John was showing you around. You weren’t actively trying to case the place back then, just spending time with your boyfriend and checking out where he grew up, but you couldn’t help how curious you were. You still remember the most important spots, and you did your best to paint a proper picture of them to Rose (you drew a map in MS Paint), so now you have a pretty good idea of where you need to go.

The guard posts, of course, are randomized. You’ll have to take these as they come, and you feel prepared enough, with just your sword and a handful of knives. You’re wearing the kevlar you wore to the Oscars. You’re gonna be fine.

It’s a race against time now, knowing that there is no guarantee when Crocker will be catching on and returning to her house, and knowing that you stand no chance actually fighting her face to face. You climbed in toward the side of the house, because it’s the shortest distance between fence and wall. The front and back yards are ridiculously huge and opulent, and while you would have plenty of gaudy statues to hide behind, you’re not looking to make your way through there.

The first guard spots you right as you hop down off the fence, and your knife is in his shoulder before he even finishes drawing his gun on you. He’s also wearing a vest, but those don’t stop blades, and you take offense in knowing that she made them dress up like that. As if either you or Rose were going to show up with guns. She really doesn’t know you at all. You knock out the guard with a hit of the knife grip against his temple. Maybe you can get through this without deaths.

One of them you comfortably take out from behind a useless fountain placed in this part of the garden for some reason, appreciating how quiet and low-key you can be about it so far. The bigger the ruckus, the sooner she’ll return, so having them all go down in silence is your best case scenario.

It’s the third guard that ruins your track record. You’re almost at the house wall, and you know you’re under the right window, which means all you have to do is scale it and climb right into John’s room, but for that to work you need to have a clean path behind you. Which you don’t, you realize the second a bullet hits your back.

Your vest catches it, but the momentum still knocks you down, and you scrape both of your palms open on the weird break between lawn and pavement. You hate this fucking garden. Who lives like this? You’re gasping for breath and trying not to inhale any grass, dealing with the reality that this is the first time someone has shot at you and actually hit you, and the bullet might not have penetrated skin at all, but Jesus Fucking Christ it still feels awful. Like someone kicked you in the spine, only with a bullet instead of a foot.

Onward. You hear footsteps behind you, and now it’s your turn to kick, hitting them in the face with your boot in the same motion that you’re pushing yourself up from the ground. As they curse and stumble, you draw your sword, but they catch their footing quickly, and you know you only have a split second to act. That gun is pointing at you, again, or still, and they’re going for your head this time, and if you don’t fight now, the journey ends for you here. Someone is going to die, and it sure as shit can’t be you. Your arm darts forward.

The sword goes through their vest, their ribs, and their heart -- you wouldn’t call it smoothly, you really wouldn’t. You can feel resistance with every inch, you feel it right up to your shoulder, and you hate it, and it makes you want to throw up, but you can’t, now. You shove them off your blade and watch them crumple to the ground, and turn right back toward the wall. They are not getting up again. That’s on you, and you can deal with that later. You have to get moving.

Your phone vibrates.

You manage to pull yourself up on a balcony and crouch there, hiding from whatever is going on in the yard now. Other guards must have heard the shot being fired, so you really need to get the fuck out of sight, but this has to do, for now. If Crocker is messaging you, you have to respond, so she doesn’t think you’re in her goddamn garden.

)(IC: yo )(IC: send me proof yoar still with him )(IC: almost there this betta be worth it TG: one sec

As expected. All according to plan, so far. You hope the blood on your sword won’t make the sheath sticky. You’ll have to clean it, later. You don’t want to.

TG: shes asking for proof TG: go ahead. sorry TT: No worries. TT: I know we don’t endorse violence, but honestly, Dawon, after being in a room with him for this long, I am quite happy to do this.

She sends you a picture, and you grimace at your phone. It takes a lot to make you grimace, as a Strider born and raised -- at the same time, you’re not easily shocked or grossed out, but this isn’t great to look at. Fieri’s eye has been pulled from its socket, dangling down his cheek suspended from the nerve, a hole in the eyeball. You hope Crocker won’t be able to tell that this was done with a knitting needle, and forward the photo to her.

TG: hows this )(IC: )(--EY FUCK OFF )(IC: stop i reely like guy 38( TG: yeah well i really like john TG: eye for an eye TG: hurry it up im waiting and theres a second eye to gauge out )(IC: ten minutes )(IC: ur gonna be so sorry buoy

TG: 10 mins TT: On my way.

Okay. Crocker is on her way to a location where there will only be Guy Fieri and a set of elaborate boobytraps which you know won’t kill her, but hopefully slow her down. Rose is on her way here, to help you and John get out of here. That’s plenty of time you still have. Things are going suspiciously well, you think, before you remember the ache in your back and the fact that you killed someone.

You have to get to John.

He’s another two floors up, but you are right in front of a balcony door. For a second, you wonder if you could get into the house from here and do the rest from inside, so you don’t present yourself to the mob of people with guns in the garden. Unfortunately, before you can do that, another person with a gun appears on the other side of that door, mouths an angry what the fuck at you, and draws an assault rifle. Alright, well.

The thing that has mostly kept you from becoming too violent in the past is the fact that you’re fast, and you’re a great climber, so when you hop backward onto the banister of the balcony and pull yourself up to the next one above you, it happens so fast that nobody in the garden reacts. It’s after you’re already crouching behind the balcony, thankfully made of robust concrete, that the shots start hitting it. You do nothing, count the bullets, wait for them to get rid of half of their magazines down there. Then you pull a knife, peek over the balcony, and throw it right into someone’s bicep.

More shots. More ducking and counting. You have two more knives to throw, and you do, rinse and repeat. The people down there are very angry with you now, and very much still able to shoot, but you figure at least their aim will be off, and they’ll be slower. You hope. You haven’t held a gun yourself in fucking forever.

You take a breath, and jump up to grab the balcony you know belongs to John.

As soon as you’re in the open, another bullet hits your back, further toward your side this time, and you almost let go. You let out an undignified noise instead, and hold on harder, focusing all you have into your arms to pull yourself up. Shots are ringing in your ears, and one hits the concrete right next to your head at almost the same time that another one grazes your leg. You hiss in pain, grunt in exertion, pull, pull, and roll yourself onto John’s balcony.

Someone in the garden yells, “Motherfucker!”

You sit, curled up, and pull apart the tear in your pants with your aching fingers to check the wound. It’s not deep, certainly not as bad as the chunk of missing flesh you have in your arm from being shot at last year. It’s fine. You’ll forget about it in a second, when your newest problem will be telling your amnesiac boyfriend that he needs to come with you.

You pull yourself up into a crouch, not more. You don’t want to risk getting shot in the head as you finally face him, so you just do it like this. Hunkered down, disheveled and bloody, you lean forward and knock on John’s window.

#posted ooc #action post #woof #eye gore text - #graphic violence - #eye trauma - #the rest of this will happen in discord :') #mentioned: #fontjoke #comedianrhapsody #mindparkour #jakepalooka sort of

[incarnateirony]

So anyway, life updates on what I’ve talked about good, bad, and vagueblog.

But I introduce you to Betty White, or the Millennium Falcon, name pending.

Most of yall know that I’m on disability, dealing with some massively janky medical issues that Alabama’s bottom-ranked health care system doesn’t even know how to cover, and my wifey blew a disc in her neck at work, essentially debilitating her, too, but also earning a small settlement. In scale of it, 25K -- 21 after lawyer fees -- isn’t really much to do anything with.

So we had already known we had to fix up and sell the house and thought, hey, the land value went up substantially out here, we can pocket and flip it and be hella good.

Until her father finally came out here and in long story short, found out that the inspector that ran through this house when my wife first bought it (during our breakup period YEARS ago) didn’t do his job and it’d be 20-30K worth of repairs to even sell this place at the value her loan is for, meaning we pretty much have to short sell it to get out from under it. I mean bad shit. Fire hazard wiring and rotting roof and siding element under shiny things that hid it that have clearly been deteriorating since long before the house got a lipstick job.

So we went and found an RV, because it’s time to go. We have to GO. We have to get out of this state. There’s nothing for us here. There’s no medical care, there’s no worker protections, being LGBT women we’re extra up a creek in the area, it’s just bad. So RV it was! But finding one in the now suddenly cramped budget with the house turning up bunk entirely was FUN.

But like a stroke of providence I happened to find a listing the day it was upgraded on what has been jokingly referred to by my friends as the Millennium Falcon of RVs. 

It came from an older couple, almost 60, that had been RVing for a few years, and the thing was already used when they bought it. It’s a friggin 1994. It’s old, it’s Chonk. But it was a project RV they decided to start on and while it has a solid AF 454 engine in it,

 they’ve over a few years put in just about New Everything. New transmission, new air brakes, new air bags, new radiator, new septic lines, new alternator, new battery, new steering and suspension, new new new new new. Modified backup camera that tracks engine temp/tire pressure/etc like modern dashes and stays on constantly instead of just when backing up. It has its little hijinks with the in-n-out stairs being funky and the generator is a funny little bit because they didn’t want to spend 8K+ on a generator for an old RV so they got one that’s an external mount, which I imagine is why it was having a hard time selling.

Atop that inside the wife went bananas and got rid of the shitty old wallpaper and painted it bright colors different on every wall, removed the space consuming fold out couch since they didn’t need an extra bed and installed an armoire-storage-couch-thing that takes up half the outter floor space, stuff like that.

This was their baby and they intended to keep this baby and did great work on this baby, and the second I saw it in the advert, I knew it, because the images weren’t all spit cleaned sales stuff, it was vacation images with their shit still hanging inside it and their party lawn with their sports teams and stuff and the shiny lights they added on it to make it a party bus like

So anyway it turned out they basically got conned into getting a newer shinier one and just wanted to get the fuck OUT of Alabama but because of the generator and age it wasn’t selling at market value which was about 15K even as old as it is, and had price gouged it down to *8500*

Thought it was too good to be true, got our old construction and mechanic friend go out out there and go over it with a fine toothed comb and this thing, as he put it “goddamn if I had the money, I’d buy it myself, what the hell, you ain’t gonna get anything better for that price, hell, you ain’t gonna get anything as good for the price” THEY JUST WANTED TO GET OUT OF ALABAMA. And I mean, MOOD, BIG MOOD.

In fact the money they were asking for was basically to pay off loans and costs on all the New Stuff they put into it to begin with.

Because of them basically gouging their asking price in half an old lady had come to see it same day and at first the husband was like WHOEVER GETS US THE MONEY FIRST but talking to us the wife was like HELL NO THAT OLD LADY COULD BARELY GET IN THE THING SHES JUST GONNA DRIVE IT DOWN TO FLORIDA AND LET IT ROT THIS IS OUR BABY THESE GIRLS NEED TO TAKE CARE OF IT AND THEY WILL and she ran interference through the weekend until our mechanic friend could go check it out.

You might ask “if you have a buttload of money why an RV” but in trying to get out of Alabama and all the way back to Oregon where I literally KNOW I can make it work out in life for us, for reasons that are a whole story unto themselves, the moving costs cross country alone for a uhaul would be expensive AF. Downpayments. Finding pet friendly apartments. And then whether it was portland or somewhere else we could get STUCK. And we’re tired of getting stuck. So we’re packing up our own FUCKING house that we FUCKING own outright that fucking NOBODY can take away from us and with NO payment obligations and FUCK THE SYSTEM.

So anyway this big fuckin honker the wife was like WHY ARE YOU SO COMFORTABLE DRIVING THIS to Shea, but Shea worked for both Uhaul and Hertz so like hauling bigassed trucks around was kinda her thing and she also worked horses so giant ass horse trailers, you name it. So she just got up in there like she belonged and next thing you know we’re doing 65 down the bendy ass mountain freeways of central alabama like we been doing it for years

PS when you are in a literal fucking house 65 feels like 90, I’m just letting you know that now.

We’re still at our house cuz we gotta get this properly under our own tag/insurance and get a tow for the car. It was funny though cuz experienced or not knowing it was OUR LITERAL HOUSE Shea started like GOTTA BE CAREFUL GOTTA BE CAUTIOUS GOTTA MAKE SURE NOBODY DUMB and it turned into GET OUT THE WAY FUCKERS I’LL WIN within the 120 mile haul back home. Like BITCH I’LL TAKE MY FOOT OFF THE GAS BUT I AINT GONNA TRY TO JACK RABBIT STOP THIS FUCKER SO YOU BETTER GET SOME GIDDYUP IF YOU GONNA MERGE YOU FRIGGIN HONDA

This beast only has 65K miles on it. And that sounds like a lot but for an RV that isnt S H I T. People are like, if you can find a used one under 100K you’re doing okay. Half of those miles are just taking it out for a jog because you’re supposed to drive it once every couple weeks to keep it from rusting out basically. They just safely drove it in like a tristateish area down here for a few years as you can see on the cabinet stickers and moved around to sports games and shit and had fun.

The bedroom is purple. The kitchen is blue and yellow. KJSDKJFSjk she was like “Fuck the 1990 floral wallpaper we updating, there’s extra paint in one of the storage bins if you wanna touch any of it up”

So that’s it. We’re gonna do some work with said mechanic friend on the AC and a few tweaky details and as said, gotta tag/insurance/tow but once we get that worked out, that’s it, that’s home starting in a few weeks. 

We’re heading to Independence, Missouri first to touch base with my internet momma then swinging in Salt Lake City to meet old media friends like the folks at Arrowstorm and stopping to enjoy their stuff at Evermore Park before hitting Portland which, reasonably, I’ll guestimate we’ll be at like a week or two before Halloween but maybe we’ll make better time. If you’re en route to those destinations and wanna meet up, lemme know, we’re still gonna have fun on the way and try to record shit. 

Portland is the city I know how to work to and from the bone. I can turn any quarter into at least a dollar there, quite literally; I know how to eat eight times a day for free if need be. I reasonably think we can stay WELLLLLLLL above the line of needing that kind of assistance but because Shea is very anxiety driven to know we outright have a promised home and have promised food if worst case scenarios happen really made her go, you know what, fuck it, sure, Portland, you loved Portland, the wages are good in Portland, let’s do Portland.

If we start with dry camping at locations with free plug ups even still paying for Shea’s car and insurance, once major gas costs GETTING there are done, we’ll be running about 500 a month, and again, that’s including insurance for both vehicles and paying off her car note. Depending on the lot we land at, 700-900 a month. I can float that on my casual residual income. Everything after that is profit. Everything after that is success. I refuse to let Shea be anything less than Okay, but most of all, weird and nonconformative as it is, everything after this is scales of success. Hell minus the car note we’d be under 600/mo on the pricy end. We got dis. 

No more of my wife being convinced she needs to performatively pull loans on her livelihood and shelter for the illusion of a 3/2 middle class life with a picket fence and a job she hates in a place she hates that she doesn’t know how to get away from. Hell, if she ends up hating Oregon? WE CAN PICK UP OUR HOUSE AND MOVE.

QUEER CULTURE IS HAVING THE MILLENNIUM FALCON OF RVS RAINBOW PAINTED INTERNALLY TO HAUL ASS TO PORTLAND OREGON AND AINT SHIT YOU CAN DO TO STOP US, FUCKERS.

It’s literally parked in our yard right now awaiting our voyage.

You bet your ass we’re getting an aux cord and blaring classic rock on surround sound the whole goddamn way

Also gonna get a CB radio to roll with some of the better trucker herds out there. Trust me, solid investment for a multitude of reasons. And entertaining.

If you don’t know what Smokie In The Woods is on a CB radio, you don’t know the road.

It also comes with a lot of gadgets you usually have to buy, like converters for USB chargers in older vehicles and the cable antenna and an extra tent and hell they left two bikes on it like YALL WANT EM YOU CAN HAVE EM, SURE

So buying the RV, paying the friend for the loss of a work day, the necessary gas to get out there, and the tow all in all is gonna run us about 12,000 bucks total, which isn’t a bad deal for bringing your own house with you.

We already burned a few thousand of our settlement trying to fix this house before the bad news and/or upkeeping bills but now it’s time to burn it and walk. By the time we roll I’m expecting us to have about 4K over costs in the bank, which is... enough. It’s more of a nest egg than we’d have if we stayed here that’s for sure, covers emergencies on the way there and gives us a few months to get our shit together. Even the part-iest part time job out in Portland will float any overhead on bills much less if shea can fall in with all the media and digital work out there with her graphic design and art, we’re eyeing the portland saturday market to sell her stuff at in season too. SCREW THE SYSTEM YALL

#not spn #me #the road so far

[peacedolantwins]

Clean (E.D)

A/N: so I’m still working on this but heres some of what I already have finished. Hopefully someone likes this, I’m still not sure how I feel about it but let me know what you guys think :)

Summary: James longtime childhood friend moves in with him after moving from New York after having a rough past couple of months and she meets his friends who are going to change her life whether shes ready or not

Ethan Dolan came into your life suddenly and all at once, and he left it the same way. You had just moved in with your best friend James and he hadn’t told you he had invited a few friends to help you set up your furniture since he said he never wanted to put together another ikea dresser in his life after having to do his own. You had been upstairs trying to put together your stupid furniture when you decided to go downstairs and try and find Ian to help you. Ian loved you like a sister and as much as he hated putting his furniture together, you were sure you convince him to at least help you with yours. You heard someone down in the kitchen and you assumed it was Ian but when you walked in the only thing you saw was a guy you didnt know looking through the cabinets and you freaked out.

“Ian!” You knew that realistically calling out for James would be useless, knowing he would be equally freaked out as you were. Just as you heard who you thought was Ian coming up behind you, you were pulled to the side by some other guy you didnt know.

“Are you okay? Gray, what did you to her?” He was still holding you and you didnt know what to do. At this point, you started to call out for James hoping he would be some help here.

“Ethan, dude let go of her.” Ian finally showed up, moving you behind him. James finally came down the stairs, clearly having just woken up.

“Oh hey guys, Y/N-” He finally took a look at you and saw that you were not only confused as to what was happening, but you still looked kind of scared. “Oh my god, I forgot to tell you, I am so sorry! I asked them to come over and help with your stuff.” He went to give you a hug but you moved yourself into Ian’s arms and pressed your head into his chest, slightly pissed that your best friend didnt tell you there was going to be two random guys you didnt know in the house.

“I told you two text me when you were on your way, what did you two do to her?” James turned to his friends. Grayson, never liking a pissed off James, was quick to throw his brother under the bus.

“I was just here, but then she started screaming and Ethan came in and grabbed her and it freaked her out even more and thats when you two showed up.”

“Ethan, you grabbed her?” James turned to him and Ethan didn’t really have a good explanation for this situation.

“I- uh.. I didn’t mean to..?”

“Oh my god no wonder she freaked out. Well? Don’t be fucking rude, at least say sorry to her.” Just as he was about to speak, you moved away from Ian and faced them both.

“It’s okay, I just didn’t think anyone else was going to be here. I’m just a little pissed someone else didnt warn me.” You looked at James letting him know he was partly at blame here.

“And I apologized. There, we’re all okay now. So, to make it up to you, I have two friends who will help you put together your furniture so I don’t have to.” James smiled at you as he went and wrapped his arms around the twins.

“As nice as that sounds, I think youre the one being fucking rude for not introducing the people youre forcing to build furniture.” Your response seemed to shock both boys, they weren’t used to other people talking like that to James. Ethan already liked that about you.

“I’m Ethan and thats Grayson,” he held out his hand to you, but you instead moved and gave them hugs instead as you introduced yourself. You were a touchy person, it was just who you were. You hugged Ethan last, but there was something about him that interested you and you couldnt quite figure it out yet.

“Okay well you four have fun doing that, I’m going to order us some food so get going.”

Rolling your eyes at James, you started walking back towards the stairs.

“Ian, will you carry me please? I don’t wanna walk.” Not wanting you to mention how you had somehow managed to carry the over six foot boy around the house one time to his brothers friends, he sighed and crouched down so you could jump on his back. Both twins followed behind you two, giving other questioning glances. Were you dating Ian? They didnt think you were considering there was an almost 4 year age difference between you two, but who were they to judge.

A few hours in to still trying to build one dresser, both Ian and Grayson had left saying they needed a break. You were sitting on the floor trying to understand the directions that no one seemed to understand and thats when Ethan really took a moment to look at you. Your hair was falling out of the bun it was in, and your purple pajama shorts were peeking out from what seemed to be one of Ians shirts. He wasn’t sure why that seemed to bother him so much.

“So… are you and Ian…?” You looked up from the papers in front you and started at him shock.

“What? Ew, no gross. That’s disgusting. Just.. no.” Shaking your head you tried to get rid of that image. “Sure I love that kid, he’s like a little brother to me, but I’m pretty sure we would have killed each other by now if we were left alone for more than a few hours at a time.” Seeing Ethan look at you with disbelief and saw that he glanced down to your top, you decided to elaborate some more. “I steal his shirts because guys shirts are more comfortable to sleep in and James doesn’t exactly have loose enough shirts that are good to sleep in.” Nodding, Ethan went back to trying to fit pieces together again.

“Do you really not know who we are?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I just know youre James’ friends. I know he did your Halloween makeup, which was really cool by the way. He would talk to me about you two a lot. I dont know much after that, these past months I’ve been kinda… busy I guess? Why? Is there something I’m supposed to know about?” You were curious about who he was supposed to be.

“No, I just thought-”

“Y/N stop flirting and come eat before you get mad there isnt food left!” Ian yelled at you from downstairs. Rolling your eyes, you got up and glanced at Ethan and saw that he had seemed to look a little red. Smiling, you thought this could be fun and reached out your hand to him.

“Wanna put on a little show?” He looked at you confused but was intrigued by the look in your eyes. “Relax, I wont do anything creepy, just go along with it.” Messing up your hair a bit more and wrinkling your shirt, you did the same to him before you grabbed his hand and headed downstairs, pulling him along with you. As you reached the kitchen, you watched as Grayson choked on his drink and both James and Ian looked completely shocked.

Smiling, you let go of his hand and went over and grabbed a piece of pizza before going over and hitting Ian in the arm. “You couldnt have given us a few more minutes, really?”

A/N: okay i know, not a whole lot of plot yet, but I had to start somewhere. Part 2 coming soon

#dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #ethan dolan #grayson dolan #dolan twins fanfic #mine #ethan dolan imagine #grayson dolan imagine #Clean