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chaoticsagi · 5 years

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Fictober 2019 | Day Twelve | “What if I don’t see it?”

Prompt: 12 - “What if I don’t see it?”

Fandom & Ship: Community, Jeff x Annie

Summary: Soulmates AU - in this au, your soulmate’s name appears in red when you have a ~significant moment with them, and Jeff’s been waiting for his for a long time.

“What if I don’t see it?” A tear slips down his cheek, falling into his lap. His jeans are stained with little water drops. “Mom what if it never shows up?”

He’s 16 at this point. All his friends in high school already have their soulmates name proudly etched on their skin in bright red ink, yet his skin is sadly pale, empty and alone.

He’s been staring at his forearm waiting for a sign of something. A letter. A line. Anything would be nice. Yet nothing ever comes.

“Oh Jeff,” his mother puts a warm, comforting hand on his knee. “There are no rules when it comes to these things. It’ll happen when the time is right, I promise.”

But the longer he waits, the more he’s sure he’s destined to never see a name appear; that he’s one of those sad suckers who lives their whole lives never having found their soulmate.

As he gets older, he learns to switch his feelings off, to ignore that empty ache in his heart... By now, he’s alright with it. Besides, nothing can stop him having meaningless sex and threesomes in hot air balloons, and that was enough to numb the pain.

It’s not until he’s 35 and a student at Greendale Community College that he starts focusing on when it’s finally going to happen for him and with who.

For the first time in his life he feels something, a burning on that little patch of skin. He just has to figure out what’s the cause.

Annie hopes for one special name to appear on her skin.

She’s not sure how the rules work, but with the way her heart flutters every time she sees Troy Barnes, she’s pretty sure he must be her soulmate...

They’re just meant to be. It’ll be so perfect, everything in Annie’s life has to be perfect... She may not be Little Miss Popular here at Riverside, but she’s the smartest, dedicated to the most extra-curricular activities, so she’s obviously the best person there.

That constant strive for perfection is what fuels her brief Adderall addiction. Her constant need to be the best. That, amongst her mothers constant pressure for the same thing - the perfect, smartest, best daughter possible. It’s hard

And then her life becomes anything but perfect. With rehab, and her tiny little apartment above Dildopolis, and Greendale Community College... She’s accepted the fact that Troy probably isn’t her soulmate, not that she has any time to think about her love life... She’s still trying to figure out how to be the version of Annie she actually wants to be. Greendale should push her in the right direction, she hopes.

His sights are originally set on that blonde he finds hot in his Spanish class. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt something about a woman, other than just trying to get them into bed as quickly and as easily as possible.

He hopes that the little tingling sensation he keeps feeling on that patch of skin is a sign it’s meant to be. It has to be her right?

A line sits proudly on his arm now; one straight red line against his skin, and he hopes to god (or fate or whatever) that Britta’s name will finish it off.

But then, when she finally kisses him, he waits for that spark, that sign of something... It never comes.

Her arm starts aching on her first day at Greendale, a dull, throbbing pain that rips through her, unlike anything she’s ever felt before.

She ignores it. No new lines or shapes appear on her arm, so she tries to dismiss it as an abnormal cramp and push it to the back of her mind.

She meets Abed and temporarily thinks maybe he’s the new Troy. Maybe his name will appear on her skin.

A minute into that conversation quickly disproves her theory. She’s pretty sure nothing will ever happen there.

Then there’s Jeff Winger. And sure, he’s attractive for an older man. But she hopes her soulmate really isn’t the kind of guy who will lie about anything to get a woman into bed with him. Plus, he seems pretty close with Britta...

So what if her stomach does little flips when he calls her Milady... That doesn’t mean anything.

There’s something about Annie he finds himself drawn to. She’s cute, though she’s obviously way too young for him. He can still see the appeal, for guys like Troy and Abed... So yeah. He likes spending time with her, in a purely platonic way of course. Completely appropriate.

But then she kisses him during that debate, her lips soft, plump and delicious, and he wants nothing more than for her kiss to last forever. Her mouth is intoxicating, he just wants to taste her lips for a moment longer, and then she pulls away.

And he remembers, this is the sweet little Annie he cares for like a friend, and feeling anywhere near this passionate about her is completely, 100%, immoral and wrong.

And then the next morning he wakes up, and he sees something bad. Like really, really bad.

The letters “Ann” are now etched into him, the bright red ink staring up at him boldly.

He can see where that’s headed.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

This isn’t good.

#fictober19 #jeff x annie #jeff winger #annie edison #community #fan fic #otp: like a perfect duet

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navalcriminalimagines · 5 years

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Comfort zone - 4

Tag list (if you want to be tag, just let me know!): @madpanda75 @zombz78 @zoeykaytesmom @mommakat32@hannahlouise98 @imaginecrushes @cold-blooded-girls @sweetsummertime99 @solleblu

At 4am, you were still wide awake on the couch. You considered sleeping next to Sonny - or maybe just watching him sleeping but by the time you went to the bathroom and came back to the bedroom, he was extended on the bed like a sea star. The man really has long arms and long legs. You took the sight of him, asleep here, on your bed. You could have stayed there for hours. But you had to sleep, or at least try.

Sonny woke up before you did and he felt awful. His head was hurting and his mouth felt so dry. He entered the living room and saw you sleeping on the couch that you converted into a bed. It was his turn to take a sight of you. You look even more beautiful when you were peacefully sleeping. He quickly took a big glass of water and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at you, your face, your hair, your lips, your neck, your shoulder, your back… no one ever made him feel this way. He realized that what he felt for his exes wasn’t true love. You are true love.

He thought he saw you shivering, so he pulled up the covers to your neck. Your body reacted and searched for his. You curled your hair on his abs and put your arm around his waist. Sonny leaned into your touch and laid down next to you, slowly. He didn’t fall back to sleep, he simply enjoyed every second of this moment. It could be over the moment you open your eyes.

Few hours later, you woke up to the sensation of a soft skin against yours. For a quick second, you wondered who joined the other, but you were still on the couch. He joined you. Laid next to you. Watched you sleep? “Morning,” you heard from above your head. You looked up to meet his ocean blue eyes, smile and messy hair. He looked even more beautiful. You planted a small kiss on his cheek and sat up.

“I’m sorry I joined you, I-” you seemed unhappy to wake up next to him, maybe he shouldn’t have listen his instincts.

“Shh, Sonny. I’m not a morning person,” you reminded him. He knows you don’t like to talk before your first coffee.

“Let me prepared you a coffee,” he offered and went to the kitchen. You watched him walking around in your apartment only in his boxers. You had to restrain yourself from jumping out of the bed into his arms and kiss him like you never kissed anyone before. Or at least, Jeff.

The two of you silently drank your coffee. Once you were done, your mood literally changed. You smiled for the first time today and put some rock music. You started to clean a bit th living area, dancing and singing around. Sonny followed your good mood and helped you, before offering his hand to have a dance together. “Should I stay or should I go” field the apartment, and Sonny was trying to have a seductive dance. You laughed from the surprise but it made him sexier and irresistible.

Should I stay or should I go now?

If I go, there will be trouble

And If I stay it will be double

So come on and let me know

He sang with his Staten Island accent, while looking deep in your eyes. You got closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You should stay,” you said. Your heart was pounding in your chest, you could feel it in your temples. Sonny’s face light up at your words. His hands got in the small of your back and he put his forehead against yours. Your phone randomly played “Shy” from Sonata Arctica. Both of you kept slow dancing. Sonny never heard this song before, but it feels like he knows it from hearing you singing it a lot.

Obsessed by you, your looks, well, anyway I would any day die for you,

I write on paper & erased away

Still I sit in diner Citylite, drinking coffee and reading lies

Turn my head and I can see you, could that really be you

Sometimes I'm wondering why you look at me and you blink your eye

You can't be acting like my Dana ?

I see your beautiful smile and I would like to run away from

Reflections of me in your eyes, oh please

Talk to me, show some pity

You touch me in many, many ways

But I'm shy can't you see

“Was it a call when you sang this around me?” he smiled. This song appeared to be full of sense right now. You returned his smile and stayed silent. Sonny decided to follow his instincts and bend his head so his lips met yours. It was finally happening. Sonny was kissing you. You can’t remember how many times you thought about it but nothing can compared to the reality. His lips are softer than his skin, his tongue tastes like coffee. You could kiss him for the rest of your life.

The kiss quickly became intense and passionate. Sonny held your body against his as much as it was physically possible. You got lost into his kisses and touches for a while, until you felt nervous about all of this. You obviously wanted to have sex with Sonny but you only have been with one man until then. You and Jeff tried a few stuff in the past but it always stayed pretty simple. Sonny will be disappoint. He had exes. Not a lot from what he told you but more than one. What if sex is miserable between the two of you? He probably will never come back to you.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him. You thought he would be mad or frustrated but he smiled at you and gently hugged you. “How nervous are you?” he whispered in your ear.

“Stop reading me like a open book, I hate it,” you sighed and Sonny laughed.

“It’s all your fault, you’re so real and honest,” he paused, “how about we have a proper date? Tonight? And I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something you don’t want, okay?”

You thought for a second, “Dominick, are you single to ask me out?” you teased.

“That’s going to be my shortest period as a single man,”

After choosing the time and place for your date, Sonny did what he had to in the afternoon and you paid a visit to Rafael. On a saturday afternoon, you surprised the famous ADA in his sweatpants and old harvard shit. His hair was messy and you could tell he hadn’t shave yet. “Rough night?” you laughed when he opened his door. You let yourself in and offered one of the iced coffee and donut you brought. Your good mood disappeared when you saw how sad he seemed. “Rafa, are you okay?” you asked, worried.

A single tear rolled over his cheek but Rafael quickly dried it with the back of his hand. “Mi abuela-” he tried to say but his voice broke and you could tell he was fighting against more tears. You didn’t have to a detective to understand. You closed the gap between the two of you and hugged your friend. “I’m so sorry, Rafa,” you whispered.

“It’s- my fault,” you heard him say and you pulled him away to look at his face.

“Why are you saying this?” you asked, “It’s not,”

“I wanted her to leave her apartment- even though she made it clear she didn’t want to- but I’m a stubborn dumbass,”

Spending weeks with Rafael made you understand who he was inside and what he was trying so hard to hide. You knew trying to convince him otherwise was pointless. “Rafael Barba, if you don’t stop thinking that way, I’m going to tell your mami,” a sad smile crossed his face.

You spent the rest of the day with Rafael. He told you didn’t have to but it was obvious he shouldn’t be alone. You listened to his thoughts, dried his tears and hugged him when he needed too. But you also said dumb things, made jokes and talked about anything to changed his mind from time to time.

Around 6pm, Lucia Barba showed up to her son’s apartment. She explained to him everything about Catalina’s funeral. Lucia seemed to handle this better than her son but you knew the two of you were suffering. It has been just the three of them for years now and one is gone. That leaves just Rafael and his mother. When you offered to make them dinner, you totally forgot about your date with Sonny. Lucia was in the living room, and Rafael was helping you in the kitchen. “Thank you for everything,” he kissed your cheek.

“Not long ago, someone told me, that’s what friends are here for,” you softly smiled.

“By the way, how are things with your partner?” he asked.

“DAMN!” you exclaimed, “Sonny!” panicked, you searched for your phone all round the kitchen.

“Y/N, back pocket,” Rafael reminded you. You were supposed to meet Sonny ten minutes ago. He hadn’t texted or called yet. Maybe he was late too? You were typing a text to him when he called.

“Sonny!” you answered.

“Y/N!” he returned with the same ton.

“Are you already at the restaurant?” you asked.

“Yes, the waitress just brought me my beer. Where are you?”

“At Rafa’s- Something happened, um- I-” you heard him sarcastically laugh over the phone.

“I leave you for an afternoon and you run to him, huh?”

“Sonny, it’s not-”

“Nevermind,” he cut you off, “Have a fun night with Rafa,” he hang up.

You froze where you were, blankly staring at your phone. “Is it my fault? Do I need to interfere again?” Rafael asked, concerned.

“No, no- that’s a stupid jealous reaction. Anyway, your mum is waiting for us,” you took the plates and brought them to the table where Lucia was already sitting.

The beginning of dinner was quiet and actually, no one was hungry. Rafael and Lucia were sad and you felt anxious. You had to tell Sonny why you stayed with Rafa all day long.

[To Sonny] : Rafa’s grandmother passed away. I’m with him and his mother. Can I come over when I’m leaving his place?

Sonny never answered that night, and you stayed at Rafael’s.

#law and order svu #rafael barba #svu fanfiction #sonny carisi #svu fic #svu imagine #amanda rollins #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #sonny carisi fic #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #dominick carisi #law and order special victims unit

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 5 years

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8. Tell me lies a.k.a. the personal assistant, Occam’s razor and one more pool game (Part Two)

“Private McCready at your service!” I salute as she opens the door.

“Thanks Mike, you saved my life!” she exhales nervously and despite her words, she still seems to be in panic.

“And now get out of my way!” I push her aside and lift the guitar over my head like a baseball bat, ready to strike with it. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. You called me in a hysterical voice a few minutes ago ordering me to bring a guitar and not to ask anything. So I thought someone, maybe a rubber had broken into your room and I had to eliminate him using the guitar as a weapon. Or is it a phone stalker who threatens you with killing your family if you don’t sing him Edelweiss from The Sound of Music immediately?”

“Very funny, Mike. I need it because…I just need it.” she grabs the instrument in question out of my hands.

“Ha, you won’t get away with it so easily! I brought Stone’s guitar risking life and limb for you, I deserve more than…”

“What? Stone’s guitar?” she frowns disgusted and tries to tuck it back into my hands.

“What’s your problem? When I opened the case of mine, I noticed that one of the strings had broken. So I asked him to lend his one. Neither is it infected with plague nor with cholera and I didn’t tell him I was going to give it further to you so do you need it or not?” This domestic war of them has started annoying me, they act like pouting children.

“I do but… but what if he finds out I used it? He’s like a deerhound, I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me…” she sighs in a softer voice.

“I can take care of myself, trust me, it remains our secret.” I wink as she finally accepts the guitar I handed her again.

“Thanks, bye, Mike…” she moves back into the small hallway and is about to close the door but I prevent it by stopping it with my foot.

“Hey, seriously… you don’t even tell me what you want to do with it, you just kick me out?” I ask insulted.

“I want to play it. Bye…” she makes one more attempt to get rid of me but this time I decide to be relentless and slip in closing the door quickly behind myself.

“I’m a lead guitarist, remember? Maybe I could even help you with whatever you’re going to do…”

“Okay…” she finally agrees and follows me defeated.

“Spill me!”

“Well… I have a few… musical ideas aaaand… I want to work on them but I reached a stage where I can’t make it out without a guitar.”

“Ah, songwriting? What’s the style? Do you write lyrics too? If you need a solo I can…”

“Hey, easy… I have only the melody of the vocal part more or less and I can hear parts of the accompaniment in my head too but I need to try it by actually playing it …”

“Then what are you waiting for? Play it!” I clap my hands impatiently.

“I need my notes…” she starts searching in her notebook until she rests at a page full of letter and number codes.

“That’s unbelievable… I mean, you do it exactly the other way around than us, our songs get written while strumming around and we only write down the chords afterwards… I mean Stone, Jeff and Ed, I’m not really a part of it…”

“Sometimes I do it that way too… it depends on my mood, I practiced harmonizing enough that I can write basic melodies with accompaniment without using any instrument, especially in classical musical styles. But as I’ve said this time…”

“You’re an alien. And I’m super envious. But let’s hear the song!” I cut her off excitedly. “Sorry, I mean… it’s interesting and all but I’m too curious to wait any longer.”

“It… it goes somehow like this…” she starts humming a simple melody, it’s meditative and yet progressive at the same time as the chords she’s playing get added to her voice. She stops playing at dissonant chords and corrects her notes but keeps humming. After the last notes she stares in front of herself lowering her head. Although I can’t see her face of her braids, guessing of her flaming ears I assume she’s reddened.

“I… I like it, it’s cool… really… hey… Earth to Jude!” I lower my head too forcing her to look at me. She finally reciprocates my smile and closes the notebook.

“Please don’t be too critical about my guitar skills, I’m just a lame self-taught player…”

“On one hand, you’re not lame, on the other hand, I can give you some advice if you want to…” “Really? That would be great. My first problem is my left wrist, I can’t find the optimal position…”

“I think you should…” As I lean closer I glance at her wristwatch. “Jesus, Judy, it’s already 6 p.m.!!!” I exclaim.

“And… what?” she furrows her eyebrows.

“Jeff is to show up at 6:30, isn’t he?”

“And…? We have thirty minutes until then so…” she insists with a clueless shrug fidgeting with the strings.

“You should prepare for your date. Try on clothes, do your makeup or do whatever girls usually do before dates…”

“It’s not a date and I…”

“Jude, believe or not it doesn’t depend on how you call it. He bought shaving foam, after shave and deodorant in large quantities and I know this because I was with him.”

Not that Jeff has problems with personal hygiene but buying a whole drug store isn’t typical of him.

“Shaving foam?” she repeats desperately.

“Exactly.” I nod. Okay, she’s finally started realizing what I’m talking about.

“Deodorant?” her face looks all the more miserable, if that’s possible at all.

“Yep. And he was even whistling all morning. So please go and wash your hair at least.”

“Hey, it’s not even grea…”

“Jude.”

“Okay, I’m going.” she drags herself towards the bathroom but suddenly turns back with a threatening expression as she notices me sneaking towards the door.

“Don’t you dare leave!” she orders pointing at me with her index finger.

“Jesus…” I sigh and sit back onto the bed.

And now? What the hell should I do? I’m sitting in someone else’s hotel room like a watchdog and I don’t even know why… I pick up her notebook from the nightstand, lean back carefully not to sink too deep into the pillow and begin to study her notes. Although I can’t understand much of them, I get lost in them for long minutes trying to figure out her concept. I start to the ringing of the phone on the nightstand, it’s set to a low volume so Judy can’t hear it over the sound of running water. Fuck… should I ignore or answer it? I have nothing to do with her private conversations but what if it’s important, what if something happened in her family or… Shit.

“Hello?”

“…”

“Hello? Who’s speaking? I mean, who’s not speaking?”

“Uh, uhm, sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number…” a young, female voice apologizes.

“No, I mean, here’s room number 116.”

“Sure? You’re definitely not Judith Camden or Karrie Keyes…”

“Uh, oh… I’m… I’m the… the personal assistant of Miss Camden, Mr…. Mr…” Shit, why is that I’m not able to improvise in problematic situations? I bend my neck in ninety degrees to be able to read anything from the book she left open on the bed. “Mr. Sforzato?” I utter finally although it rather sounds like I’m questioning since I’m not sure at all I pronounced the word correctly.

“Mr. Sforzato?” the woman on the other end of the phone lets out a short, melodic laughter. “That’s interesting, your voice is very familiar, I would swear I’ve heard it somewhere… would you keep talking, I wanna figure out… how long has my sister had a personal assistant, anyway?” she chats on playfully.

“Being in the showbusiness, she realized she needed someone who helped her with managing time. Staff members are also very busy, I’m responsible for her program schedule.”

“Hahaha, then please ask her if she has a few minutes for her sister?” Effie??? The KISS fanatic little sister? I need a few seconds to rearrange my thoughts although hearing that she’s smiling while she’s speaking doesn’t help much…

“Oh, Miss Camden? It’s a pleasure to meet… hear you but I’m afraid Miss Judy can’t come to the phone right now, she’s preparing her toilet for an evening invitation which may involve romantic elements too…”

“SO SHE’S HAVING A DATE WITH JEFF AMENT, IT’S TRUE THEN!!!” she screams suddenly in the phone. “I have to talk to her, Mike, it’s extremely important! Otherwise she’ll screw up everything!”

Yeah, that’s very likely to happen if she goes on like this…

“As I mentioned, my name is Mr. Sforzato and she’s truly washing her hair so…”

“Okay, then we skip to plan B. Did she leave her glasses in the room?”

“Why is that so important?”

“Did she or not?” the sweet voice has turned definitively into the yelling of a drill instructor.

“Yes, she did, they’re on the nightstand.” I mutter unwillingly.

“Hide them.”

“What? No, why would I…”

“I said hide them! Shesgotcontactlensesbutshestoolazythowearthemandsheshidingherstunningeyesallthetimesoyouhavetohelpplease!” she jabbers with one breath and I can hear that Judy begins to dry her hair in the meantime.

“You can’t be serious, I’m not gonna interfere with her…”

“Mike, you’ve probably noticed how awkward my sister can be with guys so I would really appreciate if you would help me prevent a possible disaster, plus, you would help your bandmate too, is that really such a huge ask?” she tries again in a mellower voice. Okay, mellow is a mild expression, I could listen to her reading even the phonebook for days… I try to think coherently and find out more counter arguments but Judy turns the hairdryer off and to my biggest surprise my instant reaction is to grab her glasses and put them under the pillow. I mutter a quiet “done” into the receiver and hang up placing it cautiosly back onto the phone device.

“I gave it up, it’s too late, I can’t dry my hair properly.” Judy storms out of the bathroom; her face is framed by her half-wet strands. This is the first time I’ve seen her wearing her hair down which is much longer than I thought.

“Do you see my glasses somewhere?” she circles neurotically in the room, groping the furniture.

“No, I don’t, didn’t you leave them in the bathroom?” I deadpan pretending to lean against the pillow again. I should work on my abs, I can’t hold myself in this fake position for long…

“No, I’m sure I left them somewhere here… Shit, I can’t go to an exhibition twinkling like a mole…” she keeps panicking.

“But you have contact lenses, don’t you?” I inquire casually or at least I’m trying to sound like that.

“Yes and I hate them but I don’t seem to have any other choice…” she hurries back in the bathroom and begins to rummage in her wash bag.

“I should leave, y’know, it would be awkward if Jeff found me in your room so…” I straighten up and fix the pillow to hide the temples of the glasses. “Just be cool, it’s just a date, Jeff is a great guy, you’ll have fun.” I send her an encouraging smile and wave at her before leaving, which she responds with a blind, mechanic copy of my move.

I have to wait for the elevator in the floor for a while. As it arrives and its door opens, I bump into the freshly shaved, grinning Jeff. Jesus, he’s wearing an ironed shirt.

“Wish me luck.” he reaches his fist towards me and I hit mine automatically against it. As he passes me by I can smell the fragrance chemtrail of male perfume he’s streaking on his way to Judy’s room. I sigh shaking my head but entering the elevator my thoughts wander back to the only thing which has been on my mind for long minutes: what should I do to get to hear that voice again?

***

“So you’re a real renaissance man, aren’t you?” I ask Jeff while we’re walking back to our hotel which isn’t near the gallery at all but feeling the mild, spring weather Jeff suggested not taking a cab. Normally, I would enjoy evening walks but since Beth informed me about Jeff’s possible intentions and Mike prevented me from ignoring them, I’ve been just panicking. Jeff’s friend, Zach is a really nice guy and – thank goodness – a great talker as well so I didn’t experience awkward silence at the exhibition for one single minute. And even when other guests stole him from us, I could use his photos as excuses for talking about anything but private topics. But now we’re all alone and damn, how come I was able to talk to him effortless until this morning and since we left the gallery I’ve felt like someone put a sixteen ton weigh on my chest? I had the feeling that Jeff told Zach why he had chosen me as his partner for this evening. Not that he dropped any hints about us but the way he looked at us… or was it only my usual paranoia? Stop overthinking everything…

“Hey, are you trying to say that my clothes aren’t fashionable anymore?” he snickers nudging me gently on the shoulder with that of his.

“Well, I didn’t mean it exactly that way but once you came up with it…” I grin and feel his fingers clenching my throat playfully and gently from behind. “Okay, okay, your clothes are cool, haute couture, really.” Nope, your hats are ridiculous but who am I to inform you about it?

“Oookay, I’ll spare your life.” his fingers release my neck reluctantly.

And the girl felt butterflies in her stomach… Nope, that’s a different story, the girl doesn’t feel anything except for cold sweat. We walk on silently for a while but I don’t like this silence as the only thing I can think about is asking myself again and again: what the hell I’m doing here with him?

“But seriously, A: you’re an athlete. You play basketball and you’re a skater guy.” I pick up the thread again overtalking the voices in my head. Anyway, he has an athletic body, right? Girls like guys with athletic body, right? But damn, I wish his calves weren’t so thick.

“And that doesn’t mean anything, I’m pretty sure that Leonardo da Vinci wasn’t familiar with either of them.” he keeps joking about my choice of words.

“You can’t be sure, he even tried to invent a tank…”

“… that is almost a skateboard?”

“Haha, I don’t let you distract me, B: you’re an artist. I saw you drawing a few times but when you mentioned art school, somehow my brain didn’t put the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle together…” I go on compulsively. He’s artistic, that means he’s sensitive, right? And sensitive guys are gentle and caring, right? But how can he draw with those sausage fingers?

“I studied graphic design but the program was canceled so I quit college and moved with my hardcore band to Seattle. But I didn’t give up making art stuff, luckily Ed has the same enthusiasm about creative projects as me… You know, before his arrival I felt like a lonely fighter, I couldn’t really share my ideas with Mike or Stone.”

“It’s understandable. Stone doesn’t seem to be a very artistic type.” I snort as I imagine him fighting clumsily with paper scissors while he’s trying to create doilies.

“Believe or not, he’s not a total jerk, he’s got emotions, he only refuses consistently to show them and can’t handle if someone does it either. You should have seen his face when Ed gave him one of the collages he made during his flight from San Diego to Seattle, he was like “Jesus, he’s an alien, we should send him back before it’s too late!”

We both burst out laughing. But his smile is nice, isn’t it? Manly. His nostrils are unrealistically wide, though. There was a picture of a Neanderthal in the history classroom of my former high school. But how did that come to mind? My brain is messing with me.

“But as we began to have more and more gigs, I suggested to Ed starting a newsletter for our friends and fans and he totally liked the idea, I could also count on him when I helped Cameron, you know, the guy who directed the movie in which we played… And if you remember the cover of Ten, in the background you can see the text “Pearl Jam” with huge letters… it was Ed and me who made those letters, we cut them out of planks and painted them… it was a challenge since Mike was chasing a cat around us, our first drummer, Dave was sleeping drunk in the corner and Stone… you know, he supported us spiritually.”

“Ah, so he basically did nothing apart from throwing in witty remarks…”

“Exactly, how did you figure it out?” Jeff laughs pretending astonishment.

“The guy is predictable. Anyway, C: you’re a musician. And not an average musician but also a songwriter.”

“…and…?”

“And? And??? Jesus, Jeff, maybe it’s not a big deal to you since you’re surrounded by talented bands all the time but being able to compose something new is a huge gift! A lot of musicians would kill if they could do it too, having good ears is one thing but songwriting… that’s another league.”

Ears. Gosh, I hate his earrings. Why can’t he be just a plain guy who wears denims with shirts or tees?

“I don’t know, it comes naturally to me, I’ve always written songs with all of my bands… Deranged Diction, Green River, Mother Love Bone…”

“Actually, I was at a Mother Love Bone show a few years ago.”

“Really? When? Where?” his face lights up of surprise.

“I don’t know, I totally forgot about it but Effie reminded me of it when I was pondering if I should call Karrie back. But I can clearly remember that I was pretty pissed off.”

“Hahaha, why? Did we suck that much?”

“No, I just didn’t want to go there at all. Effie was to meet her crush there and our parents probably suspected something because they allowed her to go only if I would go with her too. So you can imagine, she wasn’t very enthusiastic about the idea and neither was I since I wanted to stay at home with my scores and practice, maybe feeling sorry for myself for five minutes every hour… Unwillingly, though, but I accompanied her.”

“And did you enjoy the show?”

“Honestly, I can’t remember much of it… Of course as Effie found her crush, she didn’t give a shit about me anymore and they spent the evening with making out so I was surprised it was her of us two who had remembered anything from it…”

“You should have chosen a guy for yourself too and made out with him.” he grins audaciously.

No, no way, Jeff Ament, I’m not going to talk about making out with you… I mean talk with you. About making out. Damn.

“I leaned against the wall and was fuming the whole evening. As for the gig, all I can remember is you singer…”

“Andy?”

“Yeah… and… uh, sorry for saying this but I thought he acted like a clown, I mean, talking to the people on the balcony in a concert venue where there isn’t any balcony?”

Yeah, Judy, you’re doing it great, insulting his dead friend is a perfect change of topic, keep it up…

“Hehe, yeah, a typical andyism, acting as if you were playing in a huge arena even if your only audience are the doormen of the bar…” he smiles in front of himself but a painful feature appears on his face at the same time.

“I was rude, sorry, I know you were friends and…” I gibber awkwardly.

“You don’t have to apologize, the fact he died doesn’t mean we can’t talk honestly about him. Anyway, when Stone came up with idea of playing with him, I was against it, I knew about his problems and his extravagant style was too much for me… But as I got to know him better I realized how warm-hearted and talented he was…”

“He was a real showman, right?”

“Absolutely…” he sinks back into his memories. Great. If you don’t want the guy to flirt with you, make him sad. Date tips for psychos, lesson one. But suddenly a faint fragment of that night flashes through my brain.

“And… and… you know what I can remember apart from Andy? An exceptionally distasteful leopard vest.” Jesus, what if it was him who was wearing it? Please tell me it wasn’t you, please tell me it wasn’t you…

“Oh yeah, it was Stone’s favorite piece of cloth at that time.” Phew. Thank goodness. What? Stone???

“At least you can blackmail him with the photos of him in that vest till the end of time…”

“Unfortunately it’s not that simple… he has pics of me wearing spandex leggings on stage so…” he snickers. “And to tell the truth, we were more familiar with the use of eyeliner than most girls.”

“Ugh.”

“Hey, it was in the eighties, I’m sure you made a few poor style choices too…” Should I tell him I bought this dress when I was fourteen?

“Effie tried makeups and hairstyles on me all the time but luckily I never crawled out of my cave so it is still you who takes the cake by having jumped on stage in leggings… Ah, where were we, C, right? D: Dancing?”

“It depends on what we call dancing. I took dance lessons in Big Sandy but I abandoned dancing to prevent my parents from going bankrupt due to the massive compensation they had to pay to the parents of the unlucky female victims… do you know how expensive a leg amputation is?”

Jesus, poor Mike.

“You can’t be that bad at dancing. You’re a musician, you have sense of rhythm… Singing?”

“I’m trying. I used to sing to my records while listening to them but my dad thought I was hiding a jackal in my room. Luckily my bands have always allowed me to sing the backup vocals…”

“They haven’t.” I smile mysteriously.

“What?” he asks back confused.

“As your future monitor engineer the first thing I had to learn was what the staff calls “the secret setup of Jeff’s mic.”.”

“…which means…?” he stops opposite me since in the meantime we’ve arrived back to the hotel.

“…switching it off and knock out everyone who tries to switch it back.”

“You’re not as innocent as I thought.” he smiles and the way his eyes are resting on my face makes me feel uncomfortable.

“It’s not my fault, the others told me to do so, this is the rule, I don’t want to be fired.” I play on, or at least I try to do it since despite his smile his gaze radiates some kind of confidence.

“But maybe asking out the monitor engineer could help change this rule.” he adds still staring at me. Come on, Jeff, blink finally. Blink!

“Hehe, I don’t know, Eric is the boss you know…” I babble and try to blow a strand out of my mouth since the light spring breeze started ruffling my hair.

“Soooo… we’re back. What’s next?” he asks stroking it gently away. His hands are warm and his touch is surprisingly pleasant, basketball freak bass players shouldn’t have such soft hands…“Do you want to take a walk in the park?”

In the park? But it’s dark… and there are benches there… benches are excellent for…” Alarm! ALARM!

“But we’ve been walking until now… and I’m a little bit tired and… “

Nope, I’m not, at all. Granny used to teach us that lying is a sin. But it’s only a tiny lie. It doesn’t matter.

“Or do you wanna grab some food and join the guys at the bar?” he points at a building on the other side of the street. Joining the guys after a date? What a great idea. Or what if we lay in front of a truck or jumped off a cliff?

“I’m… I’m not really hungry…” Honestly, I could eat a horse… Hey little liar… Joan Jett begins to sing treacherously in my head. Thanks Joan, this helps a lot. “My lips hurt, maybe my herpes is about to recur…” Hey little liar… I would swear I can hear Granny singing in the background, Joan, when did you hire her?

“Oh, that’s pretty inconvenient…”

“Yeah, I’ve struggled with it from time to time…” Actually, I’ve never had herpes… and I have no idea what I’m going to say when he notices tomorrow that nothing happened with my face… Hey little liar… Is this song really echoing in the street or it’s just a trick of my mind? “I can barely keep my eyes open, I think I’d rather hit the hay, tomorrow will be a looong day…”

“Yeah… but… if you don’t mind, I’d have a beer with the others… so… dream something nice.” he flashes a meaningful smile at me, strokes me on the shoulder and turns back to cross the street. I forget to answer as I stay standing in front the hotel. Okay, date checked. It could have been worse, right? And now? Jeff meets the guys and… I hope they won’t discuss it. Me. Guys don’t discuss emotional stuffs, right? Ugh. What’s the next step? Oh yeah, I should enter the building…

I walk across the lobby but before I could reach the elevator, suddenly I perk up. I hear smooth piano music and following the sound I find myself in the bar room of the hotel. Actually, a drink would be nice. God, I definitely need a drink.

#pearljam #pearl jam fanfiction #fanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #mike mccready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese

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icantcountthereasonsishouldstay · 7 years

Note

HI RACHEL IF YOU WANT TO DO MORE HEADCANONS I JUST THOUGHT ABOUT THE GREENDALE 7 + MEMES OR THE GREENDALE 7 + MUSICALS AND I THINK THAT WOULD BE AMAZING

UMMMM MUSICALS AND MEMES ARE MY SHIT LET’S DO THIS

MUSICALS

Annie’s favorite musical is Wicked. Someone introduced her to it while she was in rehab, and she relates to Elphie a lot, which helped her cope

Shirley also loves Wicked, but her favorite is Glinda. She and Annie sing their duets together

Troy and Abed are into comedy musicals along the lines of Avenue Q, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, and the Book of Mormon

Shirley was on the fence with Putnam until My Unfortunate Erection. She still doesn’t know about the Jesus part. No one’s brave (or stupid) enough to mention it in front of her

Britta hates most musicals because they send bad messages to the audience, usually about a woman choosing a man who’s bad for her. She particularly hates Phantom of the Opera because of this (or so she claims, several members of the group have seen her dramatically pretending to play the organ while listening to the overture)

Annie and Shirley do manage to get her onboard with Wicked because “it’s more about two women and their powerful friendship than romance”

Britta loves Spring Awakening. There’s literally a song called “The Bitch of Living” and if that’s not the most Britta thing, then idk what is

She also unironically loves Cats

Troy and Abed ironically love Cats

Everyone else hates Cats

Jeff didn’t really like musicals, but Annie got him into them. His favorite is Guys and Dolls (which has nothing to do with the fact that Annie reminds him of Sarah and he relates to Sky, Shirley!). He hated Phantom of the Opera for a while for the same reason. He saw himself as the Phantom and Annie as Christine (because the Phantom was a creepy older man who preyed on an innocent girl) before he dealt with his feelings about their age difference. Now, he’s not super in love with it, but he’ll still watch it with her

Pierce loves Carousel. Britta goes on a rant for an hour about why it sucks, and for once people actually agree with her because “Carousel blows, unless you’re watching it to make fun of it”

The Dean loves every musical ever made that he can base a costume or pun on

Jeff surprises Annie by learning the male parts to her favorite duets and sings them with her. He also hums the more romantic ones to her while they’re lying down together

Jeff finds out that despite loving Wicked, Annie has never actually seen it live. He surprises her with a trip to New York to see it for an anniversary

Chang loves Sweeney Todd. He just wishes there was less singing and more murder. “Chang, you know that’s the basic premise of a musical right?” “Shut up, Frankie. More murder makes everything better.” “You need professional help.”

Frankie doesn’t get or care about musicals at all

One time, Troy and Abed were listening to Hasa Diga Eebowai from the Book of Mormon, and Shirley came in and had a conniption

Britta hates Hamilton, Annie really only cares about the Schuyler Sisters, Jeff and Pierce hate it, and Troy, the Dean, and Abed are the ones who become known as “the Hamilton dudes”

Troy and Abed introduced everyone to Starkid. Everyone loves them (even Pierce who doesn’t understand most of the jokes and references) Annie’s favorite is Twisted, Troy and Abed love Holy Musical B@man, Britta likes Firebringer, Jeff and Pierce like Me and My Dick, and Shirley likes A Very Potter Musical

MEMES

Troy and Abed are the meme kings. They make Greendale specific memes, and everyone loves them

They try to keep Pierce from finding out memes for as long as possible. Whenever a new one shows up, they try to avoid mentioning it in front of Pierce because he overuses them and runs them into the ground. To this day, if someone even mentions Pepe the Frog, they’ll get at least five dirty looks and possibly something thrown at them

The human being is a meme all on its own, but there are so many other Greendale specific memes about it too

Britta refuses to use memes because “they’re just a way to distract ourselves from the horrors of the real world. We need to pay attention to people in need, not memes!”

No one ever needs to know about the giant folder of cat memes Britta has on her phone

Whenever Britta gets on an anti-meme tirade, Troy and Abed only reply with either “You mad, bro?” or “oh, shit waddup?”

Britta thinks those are both legit questions, and Troy and Abed say that if anyone tells her that they’re responding with memes, they’ll give Pierce every meme they have

Jeff has a select few he likes, but he’d never admit it because it would make him seem “uncool”

Annie likes a lot of the ones Troy and Abed show her, but she doesn’t go look for them herself. Sometimes, if she comes across one, she’ll send it to Troy and Abed

Shirley doesn’t get them. Except the minion memes. She loves those. No one has the heart (or the courage) to tell her that those are associated with uncool, white, suburban moms

Frankie hates every single meme. She thinks they’re stupid. Britta’s finally happy someone agrees with her until Frankie tells her that her that her reason for not liking them makes no sense

#thanks for this ask #i love both of these prompts #alsoi really fucking hate carousel guys #community #headcanons #musicals #memes #greetings from greendale #loosey-goosey

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13rwbabes · 7 years

Text

Montgomery de la Cruz x Reader Imagine (Part 3/?)

Hi guys, thanks you like two previous parts. This part is a little mess I feel, but everyone interrupted me like a million times so I don’t know.

Quick reminder that English is not my first language, s I’m sorry for any mistakes. And for any mistakes at baseball terms, cause I don’t know a shit about baseball.

One more question: Do you prefer parts to be shorter and be published more often or longer but not posted as often?

Part 1

Part 2

***

At first he was a little shocked, then he put his hands on my hips and slightly pushed me away.

“What happened to you today?”

“You always do that?”, I asked. “I mean, girl basically jumps on you and you push her away? Do you even get laid or just talk about it?”

Monty chuckled.

“Alright, so I treated you the way you did treat me week before and now you wanna fuck?”

“I’m just done with this teasing”, I this point I almost shouted. “We’re gonna hook up, get over it and move on with our lives”, I said with demanding tone.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at me.

“And we’re not leaving this bathroom until you fuck me”, I crossed my arms and wanted to go and sit on the egde of bath.

But Monty’s hands, still on my hips, suddenly tightened, he pulled me closer and kissed me roughly. I tangled my fingers into his hair, when he squizzed my butt.

“Oh, and I’m done with your stupid rules”, he said between kisses, then his lips went down my neck and sucked my collarbone.

“Do you have some collarbone kink, or what?”, I hit his arm.

He grabbed my wirst a little too strong, but suprisingly I didn’t mind.

“Can you just shut the fuck up?”, he asked, looking into my eyes.

“Make me”, I dared him and didn’t have to wait long until he basically punched my lips with his.

The kisses got more and more sloppy, our breaths got heavier, Monty’s hands went all over my body. I unbottoned his shirt, took it of him and threw somewhere behind, it didn’t take long until he took of my dress.

He pulled me up and pinched me to the wall, I wrapped my legs around his hips. My hands went down on him, to unzip his pants, and that’s all it took for him to hardened. He reached to his pocket and took condom out of his wallet. He tried to open it, but his moves were so sloppy I thought I was gonna go crazy.

“Oh for fuck’s sake”, I snatched it from his hand, opened with my teeth and put it on him, all of this while looking straight into Monty’s eyes.

“Go on, Monty”, I nodded my head letting him get inside me.

He pulled my panties down, slowly slided in, I bit my lips trying not to make any noices.

“God, you’re so tight”, he whispered putting his forehead on mine.

My legs wrapped stronger around him as he started thrusting in and out. I was about to start moaning, when someone knocked the door.

“Y/N? Are you there?”, we heard Jessica asking. Monty put his hand on my lips before anything came out of my mouth.

I looked at him with eyes wide open. He took a deep breath and said, “She’s throwing up”, trying to sounds normal.

“Oh my God, Y/N, are you okay?”, she asked really concerned.

I nodded my head, letting Monty take his hand off my lips.

“Yeah, I’m good, I just need a minute”, I said.

“Why… Why is Montgomery in there?”

God, just fuck off, Jess, I thought.

“He’s holding my hair away from my face”, I quickly made up a response.

“Don’t worry, Jess, I’ll take care of her”, he said with cocky grin on his face, as his hand was rubbing my thigh.

“Okay, Y/N, listen, there should be spare toothbrush in the shelf above the sink, you can brush your teeth, when you’ll be done”, I rolled my eyes, waiting for her to go away.

Suddenly, Monty thrusted in me, I had to bite his arm trying not to moan.

“Montgomery, don’t”, I whispered into his ear.

“I brought you water”, Jessica continued,”I will leave it here for you.”

“Thanks, I love you”, I said, hoping she would finally go.

“Be quiet, or everybody will find out”, Monty rubbed his nose on my neck.

He started thrusting in me again, I scratched his back trying to keep him as close to me as possible. Heavy breaths were all we could go away with, but it was harder and harder to stay quiet.

“Mont…”, I moaned as quietly as I could.

“Fuck”, his hands tightened on my body. He started pumping faster. “You feel so good”, he whispered. One of his hand started rubbing my clit.

“Oh my…”, my body shook. “Monty, I’m gonna…”

“I know, come on, babe”, he started kissing my neck as if he knew it was my weak spot.

I clawed onto his arms, he scratched my hip, and when final wave of pleasure came for both of us he kissed me and I bit his lips so hard I could almost taste his blood.

My muscles loosened up, Monty stopped thrusting into me, and laid his forehead on my shoulder. I played with his hair, trying to calm my breath.

“You can put me down now, you know?”, I giggled.

He gave me one last rough kiss and put me on the floor. I dressed up again, Monty threw used condom and wrapping to the bin.

“Your hair looks like shit, you know”, I said, looking at him. Well it definitely wasn’t his perfect hairstyle anymore.

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”, he asked. “You basically have ‘I just had sex’ written on your face”.

I came up to the mirror.

“Fuck”, I groaned.

My hair were tangled, my cheeks were blushed and I had weird, definitely not post thowing up, glow on my face. I opened a shelf a took spare toothbrush Jessica told me about, found toothpaste and started brushing my teeth. Montgomery looked at me confused.

“What? I’m brushing my teeth after throwing up”, I mumbled with mouth full of foam.

I took last quick glance at his abs, when he starting bottoning his shirt. Not quick enough though, cause he noticed it.

“You like some good abs, huh?”, he smirked.

“Not gonna lie, girls like some good abs and jawline”, I shrugged my arms.

“You know, you can call me some time and I can some you some abs, you can show me some other things”, he came closer behind me and put his hands on my hips.

“Monty”, I turned around to face him, “it was one time action, alright? I teased you, you teased me, we finished it in Jessica’s bathroom.”

“Don’t you say”, he looked down at our hips touching.

“Let’s go”, I said, moved away from him and went to the door. As I was unlocking, he quickly grabbed my ass. “Stop doing this”, I patted his hand.

“I didn’t hear you complaining few minutes ago.”

“You’re a dick”, I opened the door, stormed out of the bathroom, grabbed bottled up water Jessica left for me and went downstairs…

***

On Monday during lunch break I was sitting with few people when suddenly Jessica came up i basically threw her phone on the table.

“Look at this!”, she shouted to all of us pointing at the picture on her phone.

“What are we looking at?”, I asked.

“This is the corner of the condom wrapping”.

“Aaaand?”, Jeff encouraged her to keep talking.

“Somebody had sex in my bathroom!”, she shouted again.

“Jess!”, I tried to keep her quiet while looking around to check how many people had turned around.

Oh God,I’m screwed, I thought.

“What’s up boys and girls?”, Justin and Monty came to the table.

“Somebody…” Jess started shouting again.

“Somebody have some fun in Jessica’s bathroom during the party and left something”, Sheri interrupted her with quieter tone and showed guys the picture.

“Jess, it was a party, things like this just happen, don’t make drama”, Montgomery rolled his eyes.

“Okay, cool, but can people at least clean after they’re done?”, she crossed her arms. “ I’d be dead if my dad found it”.

“But he didn’t, another happy ending in your bathroom”, I put my thumb up and stuffed my mouth with food, which was typical for me - stress eating.

For the whole time I didn’t even looked at Monty, being paranoid someone would somehow found out. I ignored him to the point, when he said he’s gotta go for a chemistry, I waved at him while scrolling through my instagram feed.

“Hey, Y/N”, Justin kicked me under the table.

“Ouch, what?”, I started rubbing place on my leg he kicked, knowing the bruise would show up before the end of the day.

“Don’t you two have Chemistry together?”, he asked.

“Right. Yes. We have”, I patted my head and giggled nervously. “See you later guys”, I grabbed my bag and went with Monty, who was cracking up trying not to laugh.

“To be honest, I don’t have to do anything, you gonna give us out with your weird actions” he said when we had left the cafeteria.

“Shut up, I’ll start acting normal, it’s just that piece of wrapping…“

“There were probably more people in that bathroom that night, some of them probably had sex…”

Some freshman kid accidentaly walked in Monty, and him being, well, him, grabbed kid by shirt and pushed to the wall.

“Watch where you’re walking”, he said.

“I’m… I’m… I’m sorry”, kid picked up his books from the floor and quickly walked away.

“I’m embarassed just by standing next to you”, I said. “What was that for?”

“He walked in me”, Monty clearly didn’t see anything wrong about his hehaviour.

“That’s not what you do, when someone walks in just by accident!”

I spotted girl walking down the hall, looking down at the phone, I started walking towards her, pretending I’m looking for something in my bag and soon we walked into each other. After few ‘sorry’s’, ‘no, no, it’s okay”, she walked away. I turned to Monty.

“See? That’s what you should do.”

“I have reputation, I can’t loose my face”

“Reputation of a bully. You know more people would like you if actually stopped bulling everyone”.

He didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes.

***

When lessons had finished Jessica, Sheri and I went for cheer practice.

“Okay girls, we have busy next week”, coach told when we were stretching before practice. “We have an assembly on Tuesday, basketball game on Wednesday and baseball game on Friday and we’re doing all of them.“

“Since when we do cheerleading on baseball games?”, Sheri asked.

“It’s still just an idea, we’ll do it once and see if it works. There is one more thing”, Mrs. Montez chuckled. “I spoke to the teams’ coaches and you know, it’ll be firsts games of the seasons, and the opponents are hard, um, that’s what they said, so they asked if you could, you know distract them a little bit?”, she was clearly uncomfortable asking for that.

Oh, somebody thought cheerleading is all about supporting your team and spreading good energy or something? Bullshit. It was mostly about distracting the other team with short skirts and splits.

“I guess we can shake ass a little”, Jessica snorted.

We performed on basketball game during halftime. We danced to Selena Gomez’s Me & My Girls* and let’s just say that me winking and mouthing lyrics, and I always lip sync during performance, like “I know we’re making you thirsty” or “You can look but don’t touch, I’m not here to hook up, I’m just here to turn on” did not help the other team stay concentrated on the game.

Monty was watching everything from the bleachers, I glanced at him few times just to see him basically eye-fucking me. Liberty Tigers won, with Zach being MVP of the game, as usual, after few celebrating jumps and handsprings I started picking up my stuff.

“I have a question, but promise you won’t slap me”, Monty suddenly showed up next to me.

“Just hearing this makes me wanna slap you”, I said without looking at him.

“Whatever, I’ll take the risk. You wanna hook up sometime?”, he asked.

“Subtle”, I sighed and turned to face him. “Thank you, but no. See you around”,

I took my bag, passed him and went to my car.

“Oh come on, you liked it last time”, he cought me up.

“Monty, half of the girls in this school wish they could make out with a devil, it’s you, go molest someone else”, I rolled my eyes.

“Then why did you teased me with that winking and cocky smiles during dancing?”

I bit my lower lip. Fine, maybe I was teasing him a little bit again, but this little fucker deserved it.

“You’re sucker for this cheerleader suit, huh?”, I laughed throwing my bag at the backseat. “Fine, maybe there is some sexual tension between us”, I finally admitted, “but it doesn’t mean we have to do something about it.”

“It’s unhealty, you know?”

Suddenly I came up with something. He played baseball and damn, he was good, but not THAT good. Plus home run wasn’t easy to score.

“Okay, we’ll make a bet”, I said finally.

“I’m listening” he smiled and leaned on my car.

“It will be baseball metaphor, and I’m not too good at it, so focus”, I cleared my throat. “You do home run on Friday’s game, you get third base with me”, I said looking him straight in the eyes.

He squinted his eyes, took a deep breath, and answered, “Deal”.

***

He fucking did it. Not only that he got home run. He got two. We did the same performance we had done at basketball game, I lipsynced, winked, when he was going to batter’s field I accidentally droppen one pompom and bent down to reach it, knowing he was looking at me, everything just to distract him at least a little bit, but no, the second he hit the ball, everyone new it was gonna be a home run.

“Fuck”, I mumbled at it took me good few seconds before I realised I should cheer.

Before his second home run, he literally pointed at me.

“What was that about?”, Justin was seating at the bleacher above the place where cheerleaders were standing and he could talk to us.

“We made a bet”, I said. “About, umm, chemistry project”.

Before he could answer something Montgomery Fucking de la Cruz got his second home run.

“Well, looks like he’s not gonna do much about that project”, Foley said after everyone stopped cheering.

“Yeah, looks like whole work’s gonna be on me...”, I sighed as I spotted Monty winking at me.

***

*This song is dirty as fuck, just like this whole fandom, trust me

Let me know what you think, hope you like it even though it’s a mess lol

#13 reasons why #montgomery de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz imagine #monty de la cruz #13rw #13rw imagine #13rw smut #montgomery de la cruz smut

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treehugginglibrarian · 6 years

Text

Now is the Time for #NOTALLMEN

Under ordinary circumstances, I would probably be reacting to our current news cycle by screaming my detestation for men everywhere from every rooftop I could find to climb upon. It occurs to me, though, that in this instance that would fall on deaf ears and would probably be counterproductive. In light of this fact, I’m going to take a different approach and I’m going to say:

#NOTALLMEN

#NOTALLMEN do the things that Brett Kavanaugh is accused of doing. Not all men assault a girl in high school. Not all men attempt to rape anyone, ever. Not all men will, at some point in the course of their lives, physically hurt and permanently scar the psyche of a woman in their lives. Not all men are completely awful, and those men that aren’t awful should be wildly fucking offended by the implication that Brett Kavanaugh’s guilt or innocence doesn’t matter, because even if he did do it he’s not doing anything that every other man before him hasn’t already done. Because, #NOTALLMEN are incapable of treating women like they are whole, sentient, beings worthy of respect.

As evidence of this fact, I give you the multitude of times in my own life that a man could have harmed me, could have done serious damage, possibly could have killed me, and didn’t. Though I claim a general dislike for the male species, I know a LOT of men. I am friends with a LOT of men. And the overwhelming majority of them are pretty fucking amazing. The ones I keep close to me are all really fucking amazing. To start, let’s take it back. WAAAAAAAAY back. To an age at which Brett Kavanaugh may, or may not, have been assaulting people, an age at which we are being led to believe “boys will be boys” and we should just shrug this shit off.

I spent high school hanging out with a pretty mixed bag of people. I was super bad at falling into any one clique, though my sophomore year I attached myself to a crew of gents that were two years older than me and sort of just latched on leech style. Zach, Randy, Bubba, and Jeff were staples of my sophomore year of high school. I spent literal hours with them after school for stage crew shit (I was a band geek and a musical geek), after marching band gigs, and just hanging out. Weirdly, despite spending hours upon hours together, sometimes on darkened school buses, none of them ever assaulted me. #NOTALLMEN

The summer after they graduated, Jeff and I started dating. This brought me up to his college campus pretty frequently where I met his friend and roomie Abe. At no point while we were together, despite us often spending the night alone in his dorm room, did Jeff ever assault me. At no point in our time together did Abe ever assault me. In fact, Abe and I have gotten together since then just to catch up on old times and you know what we did? We ate dinner. And talked about our lives. He didn’t assault me. #NOTALLMEN

Through all four years of high school, there were three constants within my own graduating class with whom I seemed to spend a fair bit of time and of whom I have consistently fond memories. Two of these people were boys. Despite spending lots of time together in the hallways before school or between classes, despite going to parties together, despite the fact that one of them was even on the football team *gasp*, neither Lee nor Dean ever assaulted me. We helped each other with school work, talked about politics and religion, reminded one another that high school is only temporary, and generally just did what we could to make one another smile. We had history class together almost every year and, courtesy of our teacher and our friendship, we laughed a lot during that class. #NOTALLMEN

Either the summer before I went away to school or the summer after my freshman year, I had the first of what would be multiple (though not nearly as many as some of my other Army buddies) pretty fucking drunk experiences. I had gotten reasonably drunk on a couple of occasions in high school, but this was my first fall-down, black-out, what-the-fuck-was-I-thinking, experience. I was out with my friend Rob and some of his buddies, at a barn party in the middle of nowhere. I was completely blitzed. The type of drunk where Rob wasn’t comfortable taking me back to my house (he didn’t know at the time that my dad would have laughed), so he instead took us to our friend James’ house, since James’ parents were well-versed in the art of coping with teens being stupid. Rob did not sexually assault me. None of his friends or the other party goers sexually assaulted me. I also managed to spend the night on the couch at a house that wasn’t my own, without being sexually assaulted. #NOTALLMEN

Speaking of James’ house, I spent a fair bit of time there. His parents were firm believers that teens were going to be stupid, so at least if they gave us a place to be stupid they could keep an eye on us. They’d collect car keys, keep us from fornicating in cars, make sure we didn’t accidentally fall in the fire pit, and feed us breakfast the next morning. I didn’t realize at the time how insanely, incredibly, unspeakably lucky I was to have a friend like James who had parents like he had, thus allowing me to have ridiculous amounts of fun with my friends. We’d pass out where ever we fell, on couches, on beds, in piles outside. In all of the years that I spent getting drunk at their farmhouse and waking up to an amazing breakfast the next day, I was never sexually assaulted. Not even once. Not even close. Hugged, cuddled (it was acceptable), fed, and handed bunny rabbits. But never sexually assaulted. #NOTALLMEN

In case you couldn’t tell, I made it through high school without ever being sexually assaulted. Despite spending TONS of time with boys in LOTS of situations in which they absolutely could have done serious harm to me, I came out of high school thinking guys were just like girls but built a little differently. I treated them the same. I talked to them the same. I had just as many guy friends as gal friends. #NOTALLBOYS will sexually assault someone in high school, or my high school years would have been horrific.

I was less lucky in college, but this isn’t about the unlucky spots. This is about the the fact that #NOTALLMEN are raging shit weasels. I joined the ROTC my sophomore year of college. By my junior year, I was tucked into a commissioning crew of a whopping seven people. Six dudes, and me. We did basically everything together. Jason, Jim, John, Nathan, Sean, Elias, and little ol’ me. We spent time in the field together. We spent time in hotels together. We spent time on road trips, in bars, at house parties, and doing our homework together. Had you told me when I was in college that a decade later I would be besties with none of these men and that I would only be in nominal contact with one or two, I would have thought you crazy. These men were my heart and soul. Life is a fickle fuck, though, and we eventually went our separate ways. At no time before this occurred, however, did any one of them ever sexually assault me. #NOTALLMEN

My ex-husband, though a stubborn man who apparently refused to believe he couldn’t turn me into a baby-wanting Catholic, never sexually assaulted me. #NOTALLMEN

During the multiple training rounds the ROTC put me through, I usually found myself spending time with dudes. We’d camp together in the field, dine together, and if there was time, inevitably get shit faced together at some point in time. We’d fall asleep in piles outside the barracks, pick each other up when it was time to get moving, and remind each other that water was necessary. No matter how drunk we got, or how alone we seemed, I was never sexually assaulted. #NOTALLMEN

I moved to Israel where I was sexually assaulted with some regularity by the Palestinian men living there but, again, this isn’t about them. This about the fact that #NOTALLMEN are goddamned fuck nuggets. I spent more time with my friends Bill, Dave, and Matt then I think I could ever properly tabulate. I literally took to calling Dave my older brother because he was older than me and he was exactly as I pictured an older brother of mine would be (interesting factoid, I have since found my actual older brother and I wasn’t too far off. Tim and Dave are VERY, VERY similar creatures). I greeted them with unsolicited hugs, fell asleep on their shoulders during movie nights or on long car trips, and was generally convinced they were my own, personal, human teddy bears. If they were bothered by this overabundance of affection on my part, they didn’t show it. And they definitely didn’t sexually assault me for it. #NOTALLMEN

During deployment, I was one of fewer than ten women in my company of over 100 people. Though I believe they might have beaten up someone from another company who they overheard say inappropriate things about me, and I watched one of my NCOs threaten a Warrant Officer who was making me super uncomfortable (an Officer who was chaptered out for rape and sexual assault as I was coming off of active duty), no one in my company ever harmed me. They picked on me, they teased me, they kept me safe, they trained me, they demanded more of me and demanded better of me, and they put me back together every time the higher ups tried to break me. They never sexually assaulted me. #NOTALLMEN

Later, while going through a particularly rough patch involving a man who wasn’t all that stellar, a Warrant Officer we fondly called “Uncle” Rick basically adopted me. He kept me safe in a completely non-paternalistic way, ensuring that the bad guy stayed at bay and that, if he wasn’t on a completely different universe, he was at least nowhere near me. He once told me that if said bad guy ever showed up trying to hurt me, to call him first. He’d make it there before the cops would. I never doubted for a second that if I needed him, he’d be there. The vast majority of the men I met while in uniform were good humans who never sexually assaulted me. #NOTALLMEN

One of my very best friends I acquired courtesy of my time on the Brigade staff. I have spent quite a bit of time with my friend Scott, running, talking, exploring breakfast spots in Alexandria, and just generally doing the things you do when you’re with one of your favorite people. I have stayed up until 1am with him, sitting on his couch and drinking tea, and you know what happened when we finally went to bed? He hugged me, told me how happy he was I was visiting, and told me to sleep well. He didn’t sexually assault me, because he’s one of my best friends and that’s a shitty fucking thing to do to anyone so it’s a super shitty thing to do to one of your best friends. #NOTALLMEN because some men are fanfuckingtastic.

Speaking of fanfuckingtastic men, my more local bestie Eric has never sexually assaulted me, either. HOURS upon HOURS spent out on the trails, or eating ice cream, or in his bike shop. Many of these hours spent alone. He’s bigger than me. He’s stronger than me. The woods are a scary and lonely place. But, like Scott, he’s never sexually assaulted me. I can’t say for certain, but I think that, like Scott, it’s because he’s too fond of me to hurt me and he knows that sexually assaulting me would hurt me. Also, like Scott, he’s just not inclined to sexually assault anyone. Because #NOTALLMEN. I know this, for a fact, because two of my dearest friends are men who have never, and will never, hurt me. Or anyone.

No worries. We’re almost done. I’m almost out of men in my life to call out for their awesome ability to not rape and/or assault people.

I joined a CrossFit gym a little over two years ago. On day one, I was the only person in the gym with my coach, Adam. Just me. And a dude who’s built like a Greek god and could pick me up and break me. You know what happened? The same thing that’s happened every single time I’ve been the only person in class since then. He taught me how to lift shit and corrected my form. The longer I’ve been there the more we’ve taken to bullshitting about life while I’m lifting, but he’s never hurt me. In fact, none of the men in the gym have ever hurt me. I’ve been in the gym alone with my other coach as well, and though we give Jeff innate amounts of shit for basically being everyone’s disappointed dad at all times, he’d never actively seek to hurt any of his athletes. I have showed up for classes where I was the only woman in a room with a male coach and five or six male athletes. And all we did was work out. No sexual assault took place. #NOTALLMEN Even when they’re absolutely strong enough.

The idea that what Kavanaugh may have done should be brushed aside as an excusable indiscretion because “all men” will do something of that nature at some point in their lives is complete and utter horse shit. Indefensible, wildly offensive, horse shit. The only way men would ever believe this is if they, themselves, are abusers. The only way women would believe it is if they have been abused far too many times. #NOTALLMEN are human shit stains, so why the hell are we inventing a narrative that says they are?

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