#But it just sounds like something that would pique Ryan’s attention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katehuntington · 5 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part four) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±5500 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part four: Y/N begins to feel more at home, getting the hang of the daily routine at the ranch. But her world is finally complete when her horse arrives. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Sunshine’ by Ryan Bingham, ‘The Stable Song’ by Gregory Alan Isakov. Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @coffee-obsessed-writer and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish for helping me. You girls are awesome betas.

Ride With Me Masterlist

“You haven't mucked many stables in your life, have ya?”

Panting, Y/N stops with what she’s doing, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. After turning out all the animals, Dean and Jo started training the horses, while she was assigned to assist Garth to muck out the twenty stables. The air might have cooled between the head wrangler and herself, he did not lie when he said that he was not going to treat her differently than any other intern. As she anticipated, she landed a dirty job, quite literally. Out of breath, she turns to face Garth in the doorway, who is leaning on a pitchfork. He has his eyebrows raised, but his smile is gentle. With her pitchfork still stuck in the mixture of sawdust and manure, she chuckles nervously. Is it that obvious that she has absolutely no idea what she is doing? The stable boy has got her figured out, but she is not entirely ready to admit it yet. In another attempt to lift the heavy clunk off the concrete, she’s able to pull it up a few inches, but then she has to admit her defeat; it’s just too heavy. “Guilty,” she sighs.

“Here, let me help,” Garth offers. “What you basically do with each stable, is quickly scoop the clean shavings in one corner and only take out what’s dirty. Don't bite off more than you can chew, alright? If you try to clean out the stable in one haul, you’ll ruin your back. Make sure the wheelbarrow is already pointing into the direction of the shitpit, so that you don't have to turn it when it's full.” “The shitpit? Really?” Y/N grins, assuming he meant the muck heap. “It has a nice ring to it,” the guy returns, sniggering over his own choice of words. He demonstrates quickly, moving the clean shavings aside and picking up the darkened wooden fibers with his pitchfork, hurling it into the wheelbarrow swiftly. “Don't be too neat about it, the ponies are gonna drop their chocolate muffins the moment they step back in. Make sure most of it is out,” Garth scoops up the last droppings, then twists the handle and pulls the clean shavings back to the center of the stall, “then even out what's left and if necessary add a little more shavings.”

The tactic helps, and Y/N cleans out the next stable a lot faster than she did the previous one. Yet she can't keep up with Garth, who finishes his row when she has barely reached the fifth box. Already she feels exhausted. Aching shoulders, a sore back, and already blisters start to develop on her hands during the very first hour of hard labor. On top of all that, she is so hungry that she can hear her stomach growl above the sound of Ryan Bingham’s ‘Sunshine’ blasting from the radio. Breakfast sure sounds good by now. Twenty minutes past eight she finishes her final stable while the slender stable boy is sweeping the hallway. He is done by the time she returns with an empty wheelbarrow, which she turns over against the wall next to the other. Jo and Dean return from the arena, cooling the horses down by walking circles around the Joshua tree. For a second, Y/N watches the head wrangler on the beautiful buckskin with black manes and a shiny, golden coat. Her breath is stolen from her for a short second.

Holy mother of God; he looks good on a horse.

Even though the American Quarter is only walking, she can tell he’s a good rider. The way he comfortably adjusts his balance with the movements of the animal under him, the end of the reins loosely between his fingers and his free hand rests on his upper leg as he talks to Jo; riding comes naturally. It is like breathing to him, he doesn't even have to think about it. Jo seems at home in her beautifully hand-crafted saddle as well. “I don't know about y’all, but I could eat.” Benny leans against the large doorway, lifts his hat and wipes the sweat from his brow with his forearm, then puts it back on. He picks a pack of Lucky Strike from his back pocket, as well as his zippo, and lights a smoke. He generously smiles at Y/N after taking a drag, and for a second she senses that Dean isn’t the only one who is interested in the fresh face. Well, fresh? Not so much after mucking out stalls in eighty-seven degrees, but then again, neither is the farrier. His shirt is drenched, dark stains on the center of his chest. A little insecure about his intentions, she smiles back sheepishly, after which Benny thankfully shifts his attention to the riders. “Still comfortable up there, Chief? Get your lazy ass off that horse, us workin’ men gotta still our hunger,” he nags. Dean chuckles, amused by the harmless bantering of his best friend. “Somebody has to do the ridin’ and keep the horse beneath,” he counters, as he swings his right leg over the back of the horse and lowers himself to the ground. "One time, brother,” the Southerling sighs, shaking his head. “One time you saw me fall off that bronc and you still hold that against me? That was six years ago!”

Y/N looks from Benny to Dean, who has tied his buckskin to the pole under the Joshua tree and now loosens the cinch of the saddle. The intern takes her cue and walks over to help, partly trying to make up for the attitude she gave him the night before, but also to impress him with her eagerness. The head wrangler grins at her over the back of his horse as his friend continues to argue over what’s true and what's exaggerated about the event that his friend just brought up. Y/N can’t hide her smile either; she would like to see where this is heading. “Oh, you didn't just fall off that bronc. That was the biggest face plant in the history of the State of Arizona,” Dean corrects, slightly overdoing it to the amusement of the others. “C’mon now, it wasn't like that,” Benny responds. Dean opens the faucet and starts to hose down the Quarter, washing the dirt and sweat out of its golden coat. In the meantime Y/N takes off the bridle and replaces it with a leather halter, trying not to snigger. “Benny, be fair. There's still a dent in the arena footing where you touched down with that brick head of yours,” Jo chips in. Y/N snorts and Dean breaks out in full-body laughter, only fueled by the stunned expression of the farrier, the cigarette still hanging from his parted lips. He doesn't have a counter ready. “I ain’t talkin’ to you folks no more,” he mutters eventually, after which he saunters away, mumbling something unintelligible.

Dean smirks, and eyes the intern again over the arch of the buckskin’s back, running his hand through the horse's wet mane, after which he gives the stallion a pat on the shoulder. He's trying to suppress the trace of victory before the others notice. What was this whole little challenge with his friend about? Truly just his colleague’s legendary fall? Dean saw how his pal smiled at Y/N and felt his gut twist and turn at the sight. He knows Benny, he knows that grin. And although she obviously belongs to nobody and the two men usually don't mind when one gives it a go with the girl who the other is chasing, Dean felt the need to claim her. When the farrier mocked him on making slow time, he instantly took that opportunity to put him back in his place. He wonders if Benny picked up on his reasoning, and what if she did? The cowboy tries to read her as he lifts the heavy saddle off the pole. “Wanna bring him back to his stable?” he asks with a gentle voice. “Led is in the second on the left.” “Sure.” She smiles, glad to get the responsibility of one of his horses. But then she realizes something. Led? Who calls his horse Led? Unless… “Led, as in ‘Led Zeppelin’?” she wonders, as she unties the beautiful stallion. Surprised Dean frowns at her and looks over his shoulder. “You know this horse?” She scoffs. “No, but I know the band.”

Feeling the cowboy's eyes on her, she can tell that he’s impressed, and instantly the heat rushes to her cheeks. Why are you feeling so flushed every time he directs his gaze to you? She wonders. You're that confident girl who gave him a run for his money last night. Where did she go? But something about his ways leaves her a doubtful mess inside. “You know Led Zeppelin?” Dean appeared again, resting his strong forearms on the stable door. Apparently he stored away the saddle in the tack room and made it back in record time. She piqued his interest earlier, but now he just can’t help himself. “I’m familiar with their music, yeah,” she admits, undoing Led from his halter, after which she intends to exit the box. “Prove it,” he challenges, holding the door for her. “First song of the second album.” “Whole Lotta Love,” she recalls without blinking, confidence returning now that he started on a subject she’s an expert on. “Name of the fifth album.” She grins as the two of them start making their way, joined by Jo and Garth, who helped her tack down the grey she was riding. “Houses of the Holy,” she answers. He laughs. “Well, I’ll be damned. Where have you been hiding all my life?”

She can’t stop herself from chuckling as she looks down, catching Jo’s eye roll as she does. It's clear the blonde cowgirl is not impressed with her cousin’s smooth talk and it brings Y/N back to earth. Yes, she gives Dean the benefit of the doubt, but Jo warned her for a reason. This is his usual M.O, he tells this to all the girls, the convincing voice in her mind tells her. There is nothing special about you. “What’s your favorite Led Zep song?” Dean wonders. “Right now at this very moment?” She steals a playful glance at him from under her Milano hat. “It would be a tie between What Is And What Should Never Be and Ramble On.”

Dean opens his mouth to respond as he pushes open the heavy door to the small cafeteria, but then the titles dawn on him. The double meaning behind her peculiar choice of songs doesn't go unnoticed with his colleagues either, because Jo throws him a wide grin, and Garth sniggers. He shakes his head, but can’t hide the ear to ear smile. Before the wrangler can fire back, he enters the lounge area, the smell of bacon, fresh bread, and pancakes filling his nostrils like it does every morning. Aunt Ellen, his dear aunt Ellen. Everyone who works at this ranch should be thanking the man upstairs for this woman who makes the best scrambled eggs in the country.

“Well, come on in, y’all!” She greets the workers, stirring the delicious smelling food in the frying pan, after which she starts scooping the eggs on the plates. “The food ain't sittin’ here to get cold.” With a watering mouth, Y/N settles down on the chair opposite of Bobby, who is already sipping on his coffee while Benny puts a fresh pot on the table. Ash hits the radio, letting Americana music mix with chatter. When everyone is seated, Ellen turns to Y/N. “Now honey, here we pray before our meal. Feel free to join us, but it’s perfectly fine if you don’t,” she informs the intern with a gentleness in her voice that makes her feel comfortable, whatever option she chooses. Ellen takes her husband’s hand and squeezes it sweetly, then turns to one of the wranglers. “Ash? I believe it’s your turn for prayers.” “Great, ‘cause I’m starvin’,” Ash states, apparently keeping things short. “Good food, good meat. Good God, let’s eat!” “Amen!” Benny adds, not wasting a second before starting on his breakfast.

Y/N grins at the sight of the two men, who couldn’t be more different, devouring the food as her neighbor Jo shakes her head disapproving, muttering ‘savages’. Laughing, Garth reaches over the table for a freshly baked bun while Bobby asks for the butter, and passes the ketchup to his daughter before she can ask for it. The blonde squirts the red sauce on her stir-fried eggs, leaving her bacon unattended long enough for Ash to almost steal it from her, had Ellen not smacked him on the hand with a spatula. The intern might have stumbled on a ranch that at the surface seems a little dysfunctional with workers and wranglers that occasionally score high on the crazy scale, but somehow she feels like she fits in. The fear of not being accepted was washed away by the welcoming comfort that reflects from every single one present in this room. She is a part of this already.

As she chews on the delicious bacon while laughing over one of Benny’s funny stories, she glances across the table, catching Dean looking over. It startles her a little, but she doesn’t look away and neither does he. For just a moment, she could swear she caught him off guard when she laid eyes on him, or did she imagine him flinching? The exchange of looks lasts several seconds as the cowboy keeps a hold of her gaze, letting her dwell in his emerald greens, before Bobby breaks the moment unintentionally by elbowing his head wrangler when he tries to pick one of the sausages out of the pan in front of him. Relieved, Y/N breathes and take a swig of her glass of orange juice. How many times does she have to remind herself that the only reason she’s here, is to prove to her dad that she can run her own business? She has to stay focused, remember what Jo told her, and do what she came here to do. Yet the presence of the tall and handsome cowboy with dark blonde hair, gorgeous eyes, and a killer smile is going to make that difficult. She doesn't even have to make it through the first day to figure that much.

Honestly, Y/N has no idea what she was so worried about in the weeks prior to this internship. Working at the ranch proves to be hard labor, but the physical aspect of the job is about the only one she needs to adjust to. The rookie picks up quickly and doesn't have to be told twice, which is noticed by the crew. Garth especially compliments her on occasion, which fuels her confidence and motivates her to a degree that the soreness of her body is forgotten. After breakfast, the trail horses are brought in and tied up at the tack up area, where she and Jo prepare them for the first ride of the day. While handling some of the four-legged workers, she tries to remember the names and characteristics of each. She gets to know Teddy, an easy-going, brown gelding whose full name is Ted Nugent, and Pink Floyd, a small chestnut with a peculiar scar on his shoulder in the shape of a triangle; a visible memory of an old injury he suffered when he ran through a fence as a foal. Then there's Bowie, a red roan with a zigzag marking on his forehead, Joplin, a dark mare, and Dylan, a pinto coming of age but is still going strong. Seems like Dean got a little carried away when naming the animals, it’s hard to miss the rock theme. Jo takes a group of five inexperienced riders for a slow ride, while Garth continues to tack up training horses for the head wrangler, so that he can get off one and on the next. At that pace, eight horses have their workout before lunch. Between sweeping floors and turning out horses, Y/N manages to catch a glimpse of the training, and even though she doesn't want to get caught leaning on a broom, she can't stop her gaze from drifting over to the arena. The skilled rider is a joy to watch, and not just because he looks good doing it. Not once does he use force to control the horse, and the extent of his patience is remarkable, especially when one of the young stallions acts up. Without a shadow of a doubt, Y/N is going to learn a lot from him, she can't wait for her horse to arrive.

After lunch - which again is served by Ellen and tastes absolutely devine - the crew retreats to the bunkhouse for their two-hour siesta. Ash lays across the entire couch, completely out of it and snoring loudly, while Benny watches daytime television. The others went back to their rooms, all but Y/N. Impatiently, she draws marks in the sand with the heel of her boot, as she sits on the lowest step of the porch, gazing at the road that meets the private drive, about a half a mile further up. The heat is close to unbearable, even here in the shade droplets of sweat run down her chest. She understands the necessity of the break after experiencing her first day in extreme conditions, because working in these temperatures would be torture. A fly bugs the young woman; she smacks the insect out of her face while she wonders when the special delivery will finally arrive. The transporter called an hour ago that he had made good time and would probably arrive at the ranch half past noon. Which would be right about now, according to her phone. Y/N sighs and snaps her eyes at the main road again.

“What time are you expecting your horse?" Dean slowly walks up from behind. She can feel the wood creak under her as he steps closer. His voice is enough to make her breath hitch a little, although she’s not sure if that’s because his sudden appearance startles her, or because he simply has that effect on her respiration. Quick to cover her surprise, she answers him without moving from her spot. “Five minutes ago.” Now she does look over her shoulder, watching him come closer with two cans of Coca-Cola in his hands. He offers her one, which she takes gladly and thanks him for, then she straightens herself again. “I hope she’s alright,” she sighs, expressing her concern as she opens the drink. “It’s a long drive from Maine, ain't it?” Dean assumes. “Thirty-five hours on the trailer,” she replies. “They stopped for the night in Tulsa, but still.”

He leans against one of the struts supporting the roof. The wrangler sips on his cool drink, clasping his lips around the opening in the can as he tilts his head back and takes a swig, exposing his neck as he does so. Y/N can't help but notice. Damn, that jawline… She snaps out of it and rips her eyes from him before he catches her swooning. Good call, because he looks down on her a second later. “What’s your horse's name?” “Meadowsweet.” She smiles. “Quarter?” he asks again. Y/N nods. “Sired by Gunner.” Dean raises his brows impressed. Gunner is a leading National Reining Horse Association stallion, one of the few to earn over five million dollars in offspring, and is inducted into the NRHA Hall of Fame. Foals from his descent are known for their talent and eagerness to perform. That stallion has brought some of the best reining horses in the world. “Don't worry about it. The transporter would have called if anything had occurred,” he reassures, comfortingly. “And all the horses that come through those barn doors, settle in just fine. These lands have this… peacefulness over them. It’s a good place for the soul, horse and human. You’ll see.” Calmed by his gentle words, Y/N lets her gaze drift off, the corner of her mouth curling up. Then she glances up at the wrangler, whose eyes haven't left her yet. “Has it been good for you, too?” He scoffs. “Like you wouldn't believe.” It's the way he delivers those words, that tempts Y/N to read the man in her company. How old would he be? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine, maybe? But it's without a doubt that in those years he has been through plenty. The cynical chuckle before he spoke, the way he averted his eyes immediately, those tiny tells just unraveled more than his confident talk and cheery appearance plus Jo’s warnings about the wrangler combined. “How come?” she asks before she can stop herself. A little thrown back by her unexpected question, Dean steals a glance, grinning at her nosiness. Instantly the blood rushes to her face again as she closes her eyes and covers her face with both hands. God! Why can't you simply think through what you are about to say before you blurt it out?! “Sorry, that was inappropriate. Again,” she excuses herself. “No, no. It’s quite alright,” Dean says, putting her mind to rest. Usually, the wrangler isn’t eager on opening up about his past. It's something he keeps to himself and only very few know more about. He closed that book a long time ago, so he keeps it simple. “My mom died when I was young, Dad wasn't around much,” he explains. “I came to live on the ranch when I was fourteen and I never left.” Silenced, Y/N watches him, eyes big and filling with sympathy. “No brothers and sisters?” she wonders. Now she pulls on his heartstrings, even though Dean tries to suppress what he feels within. Yet his jaw flexes, his head tips down as the brightness in his eyes fades. “I have a brother. But - uh... He ran away from home before I left myself,” Dean elaborates. “I haven’t seen him since. I don't know where he's at.”

With empathy heavy on her chest, she tries to think of something to say in order to turn this conversation on a less depressing course than the one it’s sailing now. Y/N breathes out, though. Seems like for the first time since the two met, she’s clueless about what to say, and so she states the obvious. “I'm sorry,” she says, internally kicking herself in the head for bringing out the skeletons in his closet. “Don't be. I landed on my feet,” Dean assures, trying to take away her discomfort with a smile. “These lands, this ranch; this is home. And the people runnin’ it and workin’ here are my family. Life’s good.” He means that: she can tell, because the passion returns in his powerful gaze. Soothed by the sight of his contentment, she smiles down at the empty can in her hand, which she’s torn the cap from.

“And you? Any siblings?” Dean returns, genuinely interested. “Yeah, three brothers actually. All older than me.” She grins at that. “Whoa, that must have been a challenge.” The wrangler chuckles as he takes the last sip of his Coke. “Not so much. They toughened me up and when it came down to it, and were always there to protect me. Plus, I did learn how to build a treehouse and I’m a pretty good wrestler too,” she adds. The cowboy smirks imagining it. “And how does a girl like you know so much about Led Zeppelin?” he wonders. Y/N furrows her brow. “A girl like me ?” “Yeah, I mean… Y’know,” he mutters, a little unsettled by her tone. “From upstate, young, twenty… something.” Shit. He's digging his own grave here. “Twenty-four,” she fills in for him, amused by his stumbling, “and I like to think I have an old soul, but really it was my Grandfather who introduced me to music.” “He did a good job teaching you then,” Dean compliments, looking down at his cowboy boots and still trying to overcome the near-miss. “He did. He was amazing. Meadow was actually a gift from him,” she tells.

Was. He was amazing.

Dean peeks at the intriguing woman from under his lashes. He doesn't need to be a genius to figure out that her Granddad isn't amongst them anymore. A short silence follows as Dean ponders on how to continue the conversation, when a dust cloud on the driveway catches his attention. His focus on the horizon triggers Y/N to get up and look in the same direction.

A bright shimmer of sunlight bounces off the aluminum trailer pulled by a red Dodge, which approaches slowly in the distance. A whirlwind of excitement blows through her as she looks over at Dean. Then she gets down from the porch and heads off to meet them. “Need help unloading?” he checks before following his intern. “Yeah, I can use a hand,” she says, looking over her shoulder. And so he follows. By the time they reach the square in front of the horse barn, the pickup turns onto the parking lot and comes to a stop. A middle-aged man with a black beard turns towards her after getting out of his truck, reaching out to shake her hand. “Y/N L/N?” he checks. She nods. “Yes, that’s me.” A loud neigh sounds from the trailer, followed by stomping. Meadow heard her owner loud and clear and her response puts a smile on the cowgirl’s face. She missed her horse, but it seems like her friend is glad to see her human too. “Was she okay?” Y/N checks with the transporter as she circles the trailer. “A little restless every now and then, but other than that she did fine,” he says, taking the safety pins out of the heavy handle, turning it open.

Dean had done so on the other side as well and the men lower the ramp to the gravel. Inside two pointy small ears are pinned towards the light. Meadowsweet's trademark white face stands out in the shade as she yanks on the chain that prevents her from turning around. It’s for her own good, too much freedom during travel could cause her to lose her balance and fall. But she doesn't understand the restrain, and the mare seems to be insulted by the limitation to her movement. All she wants now is to get out, eat, drink, and stretch her legs. A soft low purr comes Y/N’s way, her nostrils flaring. After days on the road, taken away from home by a man she didn't recognize, a familiar face calms her. Softly hushing her horse, Y/N walks up to her, takes the lead rope, and clasps it to her handcrafted halter. She releases the chain and pushes open the divider, guiding her horse down the ramp while both Dean and the driver stand on each side of it, making sure Meadow doesn't step next to the lit. Alert, the mare looks around, taking in her new environment. The Arizona sun shines on her light brown coat, revealing a beautiful copper shine. A second neigh reverberates under the high roof of the barn when Y/N leads the Quarterhorse to the first stable on the right. Her call is countered by an echo produced by the other horses, who seem to welcome their new neighbor. Dean follows with the luggage, the heavy saddle under one arm and dragging her large tack box on wheels behind him. “What did you pack? Bricks?” he complains, grimacing, moving the equivalent of a woman’s suitcase on holiday; a lot of stuff she’s never going to use or wear, but might need.

Y/N presses her lips together and chuckles a little embarrassed. Yeah, maybe she went a little overboard while packing. She undoes Meadow from her halter and lets her be for a bit, smiling at how the mare curiously sniffs every inch of her new box. When she has decided her stable is safe, she circles around a couple of times, adjusts her bedding by digging through the wood shavings with her front leg, after which she lowers to her knees and falls on her side, taking a long-anticipated roll. She rolls over once, twice, then gets up and shakes off the sawdust, after which she looks at her human friend. "Satisfied?” Y/N asks, amused. Meadow sighs, pushing out a long breath, and starts eating the hay; seems like the Queen approves. Shaking her head with a smirk on her face, her owner closes the box. The driver walks up to her with the paperwork and a pen. “If you could sign this, I’ll be out of your hair,” he requests, handing over the papers and Meadow's FEI passport. Y/N leaves her autograph on the bottom line and hands the paperwork back. After exchanging another handshake, the man returns to his truck and starts the engine. As they watch him drive off, she lets out a sigh, the weight of the world finally falling off her shoulders. “Told ya she would be fine,” Dean reminds her, leaning on the stable door and admiring the beautiful mare in the box. Y/N smiles as she joins him, forking her fingers together while resting her arms on the edge. “Thanks,” she responds, genuinely.

He was right, and for the first time since the young woman arrived, a sense of true calm washes over her. Now that Meadow is here, everything is exactly how it should be. Her horse arrived safely and seems fit and well. Y/N can spend time with her again, more than she ever could when she was still in Uni. Now the adventure can truly begin. “I’m heading back to the bunkhouse. Work starts at two again,” Dean informs, assuming that his intern plans to stay. She watches him walk off down the alley between the stables, and takes a short second to appreciate the view. His hickory colored western hat is tipped forward to protect his face from the sun, the collar of his plaid blouse up, the hem at the bottom tucked into his jeans. Denim covers his O-shaped legs, which are probably a result of spending years of his life in the saddle. A muscular back, broad shoulders, strong arms. It doesn't matter from which angle she admires him, he’s insanely gorgeous. Another result of all that training and hard work is his well-shaped a-- A wet nose slobbers over Y/N’s face, pulling a startled gasp from her. Meadow took the liberty to awaken her owner from her thoughts, right after drinking from the automatic waterer. Oh well, she needed a shower anyway. “It’s good to see you too, sugar,” she laughs, petting the horse. “Talking about sugar…” She digs deep in her pocket. The motion of her hand alone triggers Meadow to extend her neck and ask for the treat with her intense dark eyes. Y/N finds a sugar cube, takes her horse’s favorite candy out and feeds it to the bay mare. Grateful, she crunches the sweet between her molars and begs for more, but her owner holds up her hands innocently. “I'm out,” she says, sorry to disappoint. Not taking her words for granted, the smart animal searches her boss’s pockets, first left, then right, then gives her a look that expresses something along the lines of ‘are you kidding me?’ To make it up to the mare, Y/N rubs her neck, softly scratching near her withers. Clearly enjoying the grooming, the mare nozzles her upper lip and turns her head a little. The cowgirl chuckles at the sight, once again realizing how much she missed her company. She mist her whiskers brushing against her hand as she reaches to touch her, and the gentleness in her eyes when she’s at ease. Y/N’s hand lingers on the flat surface of Meadow’s forehead, between her eyes. It’s a horse’s blind spot, where she can't see her. Touching a horse there requires trust, yet there isn't a single fiber in Meadow’s body that isn't comfortable with her owner, not even her instincts. The mare even lowers her head further, a sign of relaxation and submission. Y/N lets her hand slide down her face and rest on her strong jaw, as she lays her cheek against Meadow’s white blaze, closing her eyes for a moment. Dean talked about home earlier, how the ranch is his. Well, this right here, this moment with her Meadow, is hers.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part five here

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hollenka99 · 4 years

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A Day Long Overdue

Summary: Jack is allowed to spend his birthday with the egos. (Essentially a sequel to A Talk With The Creator).

Hey, guess which AU isn’t dead! It’s been like 3 months since I last posted something for the Creator AU (or anything for that matter) but I’m back. Have some bittersweet fluff with a hint of angst.

Jack wakes up, older than he remembers being. He's in a bed, a medical one at that. It would appear he was in Schneep's medical bay. There is no recollection of being sent here. The grogginess is interfering with that. He should probably find an assistance button to alert the doctor. That's when he notices the cards. Upon further inspection, he can only assume these are for a birthday. His birthday. He is able to read some of them before a commotion is heard in a different part of the building. Henrik stands in the doorway, seemingly incapable of not staring at him. Unsure of how to break the ice, Jack comes out with "I guess I'm not 27 anymore, am I?" "Not really." His doctor remains stationary, smiling until his attention diverts to the collection of footsteps approaching. "Wait! He's not ready yet." "Schneep, what the hell are you doing? We want to see Jack too." That sounded like Chase. "Just one minute." Henrik points to someone Jack can't see. "You see him first." "So it is your birthday today. We got you cards and presents. But there is something I think you will like better than all that." "What is it then?" Jack smiles humourously. Schneep turns his head back to the corridor. "Come now." Dressed in jogging bottoms and a hoodie which swallowed him, a teenager stepped into his view. Eyes brim the longer he takes in the image of Jack sitting up in bed. His face has matured a little since they'd last been in the same room. All those months he'd been petrified at the thought of him being hurt while held captive, where he'd pointlessly jotted down memorable events in the hope the youngest ego was still alive to possibly read them one day. All that fruitless hoping and searching must have finally produced a result. It had caused him to be standing feet away. The kid even had a bit of a quiff going on. Jackie. Fuck, this was Jackie. "Hey." Jack breathes out an incredulous "No way." Jackie takes a seat on the bed. The hero's embrace is stronger than the one he can return. Jack gets so lost in mutterings of 'Oh my god' and 'You're okay' that it accidentally becomes melded together at one point. When they both register the blunder, they dissolve into snickers. "I think I forgot how to English properly." "I think so too." "How long have you been back?" "September 2017." "We missed each other by a month?" Jack stares at the baby of their little family. "Yeah." "That sucks." "You have no idea." Tears are wiped but it proves futile as they are immediately replaced. "We've all missed you so much." "You can say that again." Jack glances past Jackie's shoulder to see a small crowd crammed by the entrance to the room. Before he is allowed to greet anyone else, Henrik insists on detaching him from as many wires as was necessary. Once given the all clear, Jack is left beaming as he is encompassed by three of his friends. Chase has a revelation about someone who shouldn't be missing out on the action. He sprints down the corridor to fetch them. He is perched on the bed, assuring Henrik he felt absolutely fine, when the two return. One near-inaudible 'Crikey!' is all it takes for him to freeze. Surely not. Yet there was one of his oldest friends. Angus didn't appear so run down. Was this for real? First Jackie was home and now Angus was healthier. He hadn't been awake for very long and it is already shaping to be a fantastic day. "You look much better than the last time I saw you." "Speak for yourself, mate." He can't help but sob as he approaches Angus. At least the survival hunter wasn't leaving him to be the only one. He is so grateful for the others allowing the two of them to stay in each other's hold for as long as they needed. It's been so long since his Australian friend has been this present. God, it's been so so very long. Despite Henrik not being sure it was for the best, the five of them lead Jack to the living room. Apparently, they had bought a cake to commemorate the day. He had always been partial to red velvet. Although, thinking about it, that was likely the point of them picking that flavour. Cake was still cake either way. He wasn't going to pass up the opportunity for a slice. He notices a German Shepherd hovering by Jackie. He assures his dog that she doesn't need to work at that moment. Work? Gwen, Jackie clarifies, is a service dog to help with his mental health. She sleeps in his room and keeps him company for most occasions excluding his heroing duties. Oh, okay. Well, that just makes her even more of a good girl, doesn't it? Marvin mentions the expansion of his cat collection. Hardeen and Houdini tended to do their own thing while Trico was up for cuddles most of the time. There was also his rabbit whom he had dubbed Tim the Enchanter. Hang on, hang on, so Marvin was saying that not only did he have the Egyptian goddess of cats but also one of the best known magicians in history and his brother, the best fictional creature in gaming as well as a minor character in Monty Python as pets? The magician's completely straight expression as he challenges Jack to fight him causes him to burst into laughter. Trico turning out to be from a small breed makes it all the better. Chatter explodes between the group over cake slices. Okay, let him get this straight. He has been a coma for the past year and a half. Schneep still isn't sure what exactly the illness that caused this was. Regardless, it's good to have him conscious once more. It is not his 28th birthday as he had initially presumed but his 29th. In that time, a fan game was released which aided in Angus regaining some strength. There were four new egos: a community-conceived zombie called Robbie, Shawn Flynn who was born from a Bendy voice acting gig. Jameson Jackson the pumpkin carving actor that communicated via BSL and an android nicknamed S34Nnor. On top of all that, there was a significant lack of green in anyone's hair. Jack wasn't going to say it out loud but perhaps Chase's beard could use a trim. Not only was Sean doing voice acting gigs, he had travelled across America and Europe with his own comedy show. He was interviewing celebrities too. Sorry, what do they mean, Sean met Ryan Reynolds?! Wow, that was huge. They mention Sean also hanging out with some guy called Bryan Dechart but that name doesn't ring bells. "Okay, Chase, do the line." Jackie encourages. "Alright but that was Sean's series so... keep that in mind." Chase take a breath in preparation then, "Hi, I'm Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife." They all cheer and laugh at that. S34Nnor speaks up. "As a combination of both the character of Connor and Sean, I believe I can improve upon your already good attempt." The line is repeated and everyone becomes excitable once more. "Yes!" The outburst is Chase's as he points to the android with a grin. When the noise has died down again, his expression appears to make his new words honest. "I'm planning on stealing that jacket one day." "You're going to have to fight me for it." Jackie gives a disingenuous glare. "Besides, I'm part machine now sooo go off, I guess." Jack loves the atmosphere. It's been years since it has been this lively here. If this was February 2019 then it must be over two years since their household has been whole. After Halloween 2016, they lost Jackie's playfulness. His absence had been deeply felt throughout the house. It didn't matter now. Who cares if he's so out of the loop that this Cyberlife stuff and any other running jokes don't make sense to him? This house has been missing this sort of energy. He refuses to risk killing it. However, one comment piques his interest. Something tells him to broach this subject carefully. It seemed like it may be sensitive. "Part machine?" "Oh right. Well, I don't technically have any knees anymore." Jackie gestures to his legs. "Prosthetics, both of them." That made sense, given the comment. It doesn't faze him in the slightest that Jackie has had life altering surgery at such a young age. Nope, not at all. "....Prosthetics." "Yeah, it's not that big of a deal. I just hurt my legs when I was getting out." "He has been doing very well with the physical therapy." Henrik smiles. Coming back with a drink in hand and a grin, Jacques pats the superhero's shoulder. "Got a little crush too. What is her name? Aisha?" "Nyesha. And I don't have a crush on her. We're just friends. Not even close ones at that. Tori is aesthetically admirable too." "What a sophisticated way of pronouncing attractive." Marvin teases. "Stop!" The hood was up now with the surrounding strings yanked. "Okay, okay, I think I've got the idea." Jack leans closer. "Promise me you'll let me know if you ask her or anyone else out, alright?" Out of resignation, Jackie mumbles out a "Sure.", only to sit up and divert the attention to the magician. "Marv has a partner though." "Oh, does he?" At this, the new subject of the conversation chuckles, happily telling Jack whatever he wants to know. Jack tries to protest when Jackie is given alcohol. With a soft smile, the youngest member of this family reminded Jack he was 18 now. Of course he is. It was 2019. Jackie has been 18 for some seven months now. July next year, he'll be entering his 20s. Actually, now that Jack thought about it, he and Sean would be 30 next February. Well then. That wasn't crazy to think about. Speaking of Sean, the two of them should really sit down and have a discussion. Although hazy, memories were slowly converging to form recollections of the disastrous dispute. There was a lot to talk about. He's lost eighteen months of his life. There were amendments to be made. If Sean's been on a worldwide tour, he wants to hear about it from the horse's mouth. That must have been an amazing experience. And Signe, he wonders how she's doing. He always regretted the way she kept getting indirectly caught up in his and Sean's dysfunctional friendship. He should wish Sean a happy birthday. That's probably a decent first step to brokering peace. Plus, if his long time friend woke up from a coma on his birthday, that would probably make his day. Jack can only hope Sean would agree. He makes an off-hand comment about this. The idea of reconciling with Sean gets shot down within seconds. Jesus, he doubts he's seen this level of hatred in Marvin towards anyone other than Anti. What the hell did Sean do to warrant this sort of universal repulsion towards him? "Trust me, you do not want to know." Henrik grumbles. Right. In that case, he'd better leave it until tomorrow. Jack is careful when enquiring about Chase and Henrik's families. He's pleasantly surprised when it is generally positive. Chase sees his kids on weekends now which is fantastic. But surely Noah couldn't be little over a week away from turning 5. He was just 3. Willow and Alina were much more confident readers. Jack remembers two little girls who struggled to piece together syllables in simple sentences. They would both be beginning primary school in September. Likewise, Elias was already in his first year of secondary school. Could people stop getting older? He can't keep up. He laughs with them when Chase says "You think they're growing up too fast for you." They order pizza in the evening. Schneep is still against him eating solid food but relents once more. Jack has eaten cake today and there have been no repercussions. As Jacques and Jackie debate with Angus about whether stuffed crust enhanced the experience, Jack took the opportunity to get to know Jameson. With Chase translating, he discovers this is a unique ego. An entire life before coming to exist here. It's such a novel concept to Jack. Even he, as the first ego Sean ever made, can't imagine having proper memories prior to creation. He's used to the others being born with limited memories. Man, he could listen to this guy's anecdotes of the early 20th century all night if he and Chase were willing to carry on that long. They are still hanging around in the living room as midnight is crossed. Some egos have already excused themselves to retire to bed. Once Jack realises it is nearing 1am, he urges everyone else to head to their beds. They shouldn't stay up for him. Besides, he was the one who didn't sleep, remember. He would never wish for them to become sleep deprived for his sake. They refuse and remain. Before long, the man who never slept was experiencing long blinks. Was he tired? Wait, no, this isn't right. The only time he's felt this close to collapse is when... when it's a medical emergency. Like when his throat was bleeding. Or when all he knew was that he didn't feel well. Henrik crouches before him, steadying him in his hold. It's not okay. Stop saying it's going to be okay. Something's wrong, incredibly wrong. Henrik takes his hands, encouraging him to stand. The doctor explains it's likely the sudden regaining of consciousness is catching up with him. Assurances that it was perfectly fine for him to be feeling like this are repeated as they head towards the infirmary. All Henrik wanted to do was monitor him safely. Jack's arm couldn't help slipping from where it was wrapped across his friend's shoulder. Schneep adjusted it without hesitation every time. He defies his eyes any attempt they make to gain an advantage over him. Even when laying on the bed, he refuses the urge to relax. Henrik promises nothing will happen. He is as much of a Good Doctor as he is his friend, right? Please trust he will try to provide the best care he's able. He knows he has failed him before but- "Never!" Jack protests. "You are little bit tired. Is okay for you to sleep. Don't need to fight the sleep, my friend." "Not..." He drifts, only to remember himself a minute later. "Not a failure." "Thank you. Now please rest. We can have a lot of the chit chatting in the morning, yes?" "A'right." A roll of the eyes. A drowsy half smile. A prolonged exhale. And that's all it takes for them to lose him once more. No matter how much Henrik sits, gripping his friend's hand as the monitors revert to the figures they were displaying previously, it won't prove helpful in the slightest to permanently wake Jack up. When Marvin regretfully comes to urge him to get some sleep himself, Henrik waves him off. Just a few more minutes, okay? Then he'll go to bed. As much as they had to fault Sean on, they couldn't say he hadn't done something good today. Henrik can only hope Jack had enjoyed his birthday. Maybe they'd be able to celebrate with him next year too. Maybe. Either way, he couldn't stay here the whole night. With a final check of the equipment, he bids him goodnight. "One of these days, we will get longer. I promise."

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #creator au #my writing #writersofjack #It will be 2am in roughly 20 minutes but I got it done #it hurt me to end it like that but there was no other way

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sweetsmellosuccess · 4 years

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Sundance 2020: Preview

Earlier in the month, as I frantically made my selections for the limited public tickets Sundance generously makes available for the press, I was struck by just how much of a crapshoot the whole process was. That’s the thing about this particular festival, virtually no one outside of the filmmakers and Sundance programmers have seen the films yet. It’s a great unknown (and, yes, Cannes is also similar in this way, but whereas Sundance is selecting primarily indie films, the festival on the French Riviera gets to choose anything they damn well please, from big Hollywood studio fare, to auteur International work), which leads to lots of hunch choices, based on gut feeling as much as anything else.

As you might imagine, one’s hit rate on such matters is volatile. I looked back to previous years’ selections, and found, on rough average, choosing solid (or better) films at about a 45% clip. That is to say, of the films I deemed most worthy of my attention, about half of them were less — or even far less — than I hoped. To be fair, randomly watching regular studio films opening from week to week at home in Philly, I would imagine that percentage would be a good bit lower, so there’s nothing inherently wrong with Sundance’s percentages.

Still, it does speak to the embracing-of-the-unknown ethos that this festival instills in you. We pays our money, we takes our chances, etc. Having said all that — and perhaps having chiseled down the enormous boulder of salt with which to read this piece — here are our best guesses for what looks like (on paper, at least) some of the more interesting films in this year’s fest. We’ll see how it turns out.

Downhill: The U.S. remake of Ruben Östlund’s 2014 Swedish film about a family on a skiing trip in the Alps, who experience serious disruption when a controlled avalanche terrifies the father of the clan to ditch his family in order to save himself. Normally, I would steer far clear of American remakes, but this indie remains intriguing, even if it is directed by a pair of actors (Nat Faxon and Jim Rash). Casting Will Ferrell and Julia Louis Dreyfus together as the parents is also a draw. We can only hope the film retains the razor-sharp acerbity of the original.

Falling: Viggo Mortensen, best known for all time as Aragorn from the Lord of the Rings triad, has many talents — he speaks French fluently, writes poetry, and paints with some apparent aplomb — but we’ll see how he handles writing and directing for the first time with this film, in which he plays a gay man living with his family in L.A., whose arch-conservative farmer father (Lance Hendrickson) comes to live with him. The set up sounds on the definite hokey side, but any film that casts David Cronenberg as a proctologist has got something going for it.

Horse Girl: An awkward loner of a woman (played by Allison Brie), with a predilection for crafts, crime shows, and, yes, horses, endures a series of lucid dreams that infiltrate her day-to-day existence. Sounding just so perfectly Sundanecian, Jeff Baena’s film nevertheless holds some attraction, especially because the director (whose previous film was the well-received The Little Hours) has a solid track record. He co-wrote this effort with Brie, a collaboration that might well lead to something more compelling than its initial description.

Kajillionaire: I guess you could call writer/director/actress Miranda July something of an acquired taste. Her previous films, including Me and You and Everyone We Know, and The Future are filled with a kind of creative whimsy, along with intense character insight. Her new film is about a pair of grifter parents (Debra Winger and Richard Jenkins) who throw together a big heist at the last second, convincing a newcomer (Gina Rodriguez) to join them, only for the newbie to disrupt their relationship with their daughter (Evan Rachel Wood), whom they have been training her entire life.

The Last Thing He Wanted: Working from a novel by the resplendent Joan Didion, Dee Rees follows up her 2017 Sundance rave Mudbound with another literary adaptation. Anne Hathaway plays a journalist obsessed with the Contras in Central America, whose father (Willem DaFoe) unexpectedly bestows her with proof of illegal arms deals in the region. Suddenly, a player in a much more complicated game, she connects with a U.S. official (Ben Affleck), in order to make it out alive. It’s a particularly well-heeled cast, which at Sundance doesn’t necessarily mean a good thing, but Rees has proven herself more than up to the challenge.

Lost Girls: At this point, I will literally watch Amy Ryan in anything — her exquisite bitchiness absolutely stole last year’s Late Night — so Liz Garbus’ film would have already been on my radar, but here, with Ryan playing a Long Island mother whose daughter goes missing, my interest is sorely piqued. Based on a true-crime novel by Robert Kolker, Ryan’s character discovers her daughter was part of an online sex ring, and goes through heaven and earth to draw attention to her plight, taking on the local authorities in the process.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always: Eliza Hittman has a way of adding lustre and temporal beauty to the otherwise roughneck scenes of the teens she depicts. Her latest film is about a pair of young women living in rural Pennsylvania, who find the means to escape their repressive town after one of them becomes unexpectedly pregnant, making their way to New York City. With a storyline eerily reminiscent of Cristian Mungiu’s 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days, Hittman, as is her want, has cast two relative unknowns (Talia Ryder and Sidney Flanigan) as the leads.

Palm Springs: Lightening things up a smidge, Max Barbakow’s off-beat comedy stars Cristin Milioti and Andy Samberg as reluctant wedding guests, who somehow find each other at the same time as some kind of surrealistic episode leads them to recognize that nothing really matters in the first place, allowing them to lay havoc upon the proceedings for their own amusement. Barbakow’s debut feature is stockpiled with strong castmembers, including J.K. Simmons and Peter Gallagher, and it’s always a treat to watch the continuing evolution of Samberg from mop-haired SNL performer to certified big-screen actor.

Promising Young Woman: The #metoo movement begets this revenge thriller about a once-victimized woman (Carey Mulligan) who works by day as quiet barista, but spends her nights seducing men in order to punish the living hell out of them for trying to take advantage of her. When she runs into a seemingly sweet old classmate (Bo Burnham), it would appear as if salvation is at hand, but apparently it’s not quite that simple. Filmmaker Emerald Fennell, whose outstanding work on the series “Killing Eve,” earned her a pair of Emmy nominations, makes her feature debut with a film that sounds appropriately searing.

Shirley: There were those critics at the 2018 festival who found Josephine Decker’s Madeline’s Madeline one of the best films of the year. While I wasn’t among them, there was still much to appreciate with the writer/director’s improvisational visions. Her entry into this year’s Sundance promises to be at least somewhat more grounded, if not still effervescent. It concerns famed author Shirley Jackson (Elisabeth Moss), writer of “The Lottery,” whose literary inspiration is stirred after she and her husband (Michael Stuhlbarg) take in a young couple to liven up their household.

#sweet smell of success #ssos #piers marchant #films #movies #sundance 2020 #park city UT #promising young woman #shirley #never rarely sometimes always #palm springs #lost girls #the last thing he wanted #kajillionaire #falling #horse girl #downhill

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aria-writes · 5 years

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Good Morning Westchester

So here’s the first oneshot I ever wrote that I’ was actually proud of.

prompt used: my best friend dragged me to a party some of the senior football players are throwing and it’s really boring and the only interesting thing is the boy playing beer pong on the patio

Words: 1631

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in life and death and existence and all that. Maybe there's meaning somewhere out there, or maybe there's not. Maybe the people out there doing yoga at mountainside resorts seeking enlightenment are just fooling themselves and others, wasting their time and money chasing something unattainable.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in THIS FLIPPING PARTY FULL OF HUMANS. HUMANS, I TELL YE.

"Hi, I'm Bill Hearst, and this is my colleague, Tyler Josef."

I pasted a well-practiced smile on my face and tuned the oh-so familiar voice out.

Presenting, the reason why. That's my best friend, we've known each other since diapers. Comes from money, but is actually pretty down-to-earth. Though the line starts to blur between eccentric and just plain nuts.

A goth chick looked me up and down. My pastel dress and matching earrings... and nails... and shoes... and purse... probably don't exactly scream 'Tyler'.

"Uh. Nice to meet you both."

I did my best to smile, but I really don't want to be here. I'd rather be reading. Maybe I can hide in the bathroom?

I banished the thought. Who knows what kind of germs are in there.

By the time I fully returned to the real world, the goth girl had left.

I poked Bill on the arm and frowned.

"Why do you always do this?"

"Because it's fun." Bill grinned at me. "I'm still waiting for the first person to question if that's your real name. Besides, gender blender names are all the rage with white suburban soccer moms now. Blake, Spencer, Ryan, Jackson, Connor, Alexander..."

I crossed my arms and waited for him to finish, but he kept going. "Why do you KNOW this?"

Bill shrugged. "Because I google random stuff instead of studying. Noah, Mason, Kyle, Levi, Maxwell, Evan, Oliver, Sebastian..."

I put my hand up to stop him. "Okay, well, Sebastian is a horrible name to give your child, no matter what gender they are."

Bill swung around me and leaned against the wall.

"First of all, Michael, that's offensive to Sebastians everywhere. Secondly, who doesn't want to share a name with a crab?" He cocked his head to the side. "Or was it a lobster?"

Some drunk girl came out of nowhere, running into the wall right next to me.

"Ariiiiana Graaande? Isss that yooouu?" She slurred, reaching out at me a little too enthusiastically for my liking.

I could hear Bill snickering on my other side.

I took a step back, eyes wide. "Very much no."

"Oh." She looked disappointed, then wandered off in a haze.

I shook my head and looked around at the few people milling about.

"This place is so dead. Aren't teen parties supposed to be all, all night rages and burning down houses?"

Bill adjusted his vest and gave me a funny look.

"Don't believe everything you hear. Maybe we should get you somewhere less flammable."

I sighed and leaned against the wall, rolling my shoulders back.

"Is it too much to ask—"

Bill shook his head slightly, cutting me off.

"I am an extrovert, Phineas Taylor, and this may be hard for you to understand, but if I don't get human interaction, I can and will die." He stared at me with complete seriousness.

I furrowed my brows. "...Uh huh."

Bill sighed and tugged at the cuff of his sleeve. "They have a patio? But you have to promise you won't throw yourself into the pool or something crazy like that."

I leaned forward and shook his hand with a little too much enthusiasm. "Deal. Besides, you're more likely to do that than I am."

We weaved around two people arguing about something that had to do with the budget of the student government. I don't understand how people get so invested in this stuff, but okay.

I closed my eyes and leaned out over the balcony as we stepped into the fresh air. "Ah, peace and qu—"

"THIS IS NOT LIKE WII POOL AT ALL!" A high-pitched, but still decidedly male voice yelled.

I raised my head and stared out over the balcony like I was looking into a camera on The Office.

Bill laughed at my disgruntled expression. "You're the only who was complaining about it being boring a few minutes ago!"

"Well, I didn't mean... this!" I whisper-shouted and gestured over to a table surrounded by loud teenage boys. Are there any other kind?

Bill elbowed me. "That would be beer pong, my young sheltered friend."

I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind, that's it. Sorry, but I'm jumping in the—" I was about to head down the stairs of the balcony when something caught my eye. Blonde curly hair, greenish eyes (as far as I can tell from here), and a dazzling smile.

Oh no, he's hot.

I was probably staring for ten minutes straight.

"If you're really bored, we can head out." Bill's voice startled me and jolted me out of my thoughts.

"I, uh, wuh?" I stuttered, pulling my eyes away and trying to appear unfazed. "I mean, nah, I can stay."

Bill saw right through that.

"Finally found something that piqued your interest, eh? Or someone?"

He followed my gaze over to where Blondie was receiving instructions from a slightly confused redhead. "Aha." He pushed off the balcony and started walking over to them.

I eyed him suspiciously. "Where are you going, Liam?"

"WOO! AND THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE, SON!" Blondie pumped his fists into his air and danced around in a small circle, whacking his hip against the table in the process. "Ow!"

Bill waved me off. "Don't you trust me?"

Red rolled his eyes. "I'm a year older than—"

Blondie grabbed his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. "Shut up and eat in the moment."

I blinked a few times. "...no? Not really? Willy-Billy, you get back here or I'm going to call you even more embarrassing nicknames for the rest of your life—" I looked to my left and my right, then inched closer.

Red reached up and slowly pushed Blondie's hands off his arms. "It's 'drink in the moment', Race."

Blondie shrugged, seemingly undeterred. "I've heard it both ways."

Red pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "No you haven't."

Bill finally reached the table, grabbing Blondie and Red's attention. I'm too far away to hear what's being said over the general noise. What the heck does he think he's—

Blondie looked over at me and we made eye contact. I felt my face flush as he grinned at me.

Wait just a clock tick, is he moving towards me?

Wait, no, what do I do? What do I say? 'Hi, I want your babies'? Absolutely not. Not that. It's probably too late to run and pretend like I didn't see him, but I'm just standing here frozen. At least I know I won't pass out because you have to have a drop in your blood pressure to faint, and mine has definitely risen. That's not helpful, me! I don't need your useless paramedical facts!

Blondie shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached me.

"So, Halo, right?" Even his voice is drop dead gorgeous, if that makes any sense.

"Guh?" I blinked dumbly.

The only good thing about me currently being rooted to the spot is, I don't think I'm going to fall over at least?

"Your friend said that was your name, Halo, like the angel..." He gestured above his head with a small smile.

...Bill, I am going to murder you.

I scoffed in disbelief and shook my head.

"Yeah, not exactly. He never calls me by my real name, though. I should be glad it wasn't anything embarrassing like 'Princess'." I unconsciously picked at the skin at the edges of my fingernails.

Blondie smiled and leaned forward.

"Eh, I get that. I don't go by my real name, either. Everyone calls me Race. Pleasure to meet you."

You know what? He looks like a male version of Rapunzel. Be still, my heart.

I reminded myself to keep breathing. I tried to lean against the balcony and, I dunno, look cool I guess, but I missed and almost fell over.

I felt my heart leap into my throat as I frantically regained my balance.

"Bwuh— I mean, you too. I mean, me too. I mean, the pleasure is all mine and... Is that short for Eraser?"

Race glanced down and snorted, smirking. "That's a new one. No, it's Racetrack. Racetrack Higgins." He took my hand, lips brushing against my knuckles.

Wow. I'm an idiot. Also, I can feel my whole face going red. Error 404 gateway timeout—

"Oh. Sorry." I clenched and unclenched my free hand in an effort to release tension any way I could.

"You can call me anything you want, doll. Oh, speaking of which," He pressed a slip of paper into my palm and winked. "Call me sometime, hm?"

Have you ever seen someone so beautiful you just started crying? I know it sounds weird, but this one time—

I bit my lip and shifted my weight from one side to the other. "Yeah, um, I will."

"Cool." Blondie– I mean Race– did finger guns at me. "See you around." He headed back in Red's direction.

I smiled, awestruck, then turned and walked away in a bit of a daze. What just happened?

I walked right into Bill.

"Yo, Eminem. What can I say except you're welcome?" He did ridiculous jazz hands, which made me laugh despite everything else.

"Shut up, Billiam. But thanks, I guess." I glanced down at my hand, still smiling. Maybe this whole 'socializing with other human beings' thing wasn't completely awful and pointless after all.

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

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Rick In The Water; Ch1: Second Chance

Summary: You're looking to spend time with Rick and he is seemingly avoiding you. Pretty rude broh. Oh, and shitty husband does shitty things so be warned.

A/N: I’m basically copying all of my summaries and Author’s notes from AO3 because they’re pretty concise and to the point. CW: Domestic abuse Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Words: 4019

My ao3

Masterlist

|Prologue|

Life seemed to calm back down after Rick’s return. Ryan seemed to buy the fact that Rick was no real threat to our lives together and if I’m honest, I was starting to believe it as well. When he first returned, I would dream about him swooping in, saving me from my horrid life but he all but ignored me after I saw him. Regardless, I was constantly trying to find “reasons” to pop by Beth’s house, hoping to get a real chance to talk to him but to no avail.

Today, I was stopping by to ask Beth her opinion on a set of curtains for the family room but I was barely paying any attention to her as I watched the hallway to the garage, hoping Rick would pop out at any minute. Madison had joined me, but she and Summer quickly disappeared up to Summer’s room.

“These would accent your couches nicely,” Beth remarked, pointing to a particular set in the catalog. I glanced down halfheartedly to see a soft white set of curtains that, admittedly would look amazing but all I could do was shrug. “You okay Nova? You’re awfully distracted,” Beth asked, eyeing me carefully.

“I’m all here, I was just thinking about a new rug as well,” I lied casually, grabbing the book to flip to the section with rugs. Beth watched me intently as I hunted for the right section, but as I started voicing my opinions on the different patterns, she seemed to let the thought go. Once I lulled her back into a sense of complacency, I went back to watching the hallway, listening for any kind of movement. To say I was getting borderline obsessed with the thought of seeing him would be a little too on the nose.

Finally, as a brief reprieve, I saw the door swing open and heard Rick’s voice berating Morty. I tried to neutralize my facial expression to one of casual surprise, but judging by the smirk he wore when saw me staring up at him, it was still one of utter awe and happiness.

“Hey there Nova, I’m happy — it’s good to see you,” he said, his gruff voice giving me butterflies. I tried to ignore that it was music to my ears but I couldn’t hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks.

“Hey, Rick. How’ve you been lately?” my voice trembled with nerves as I spoke. I was trying to watch his face carefully while simultaneously trying to mind my own facial expressions. I received a shrug in response as he gestured around the house.

“I’m living the life here with my baby g-uuurrrp-irl,” he smiled at Beth who couldn’t stop herself from beaming at her father. “How’re you doing? Beth told me you’re a beautician or somethin’?” he asked lightly, peeking over his shoulder to look down the hallway to the garage. I started to answer but his eyes went wide and he started shouting for Morty. Beth and I exchanged glances as we watched him disappear down the hallway, both of us climbing out of our chairs to hurry after him. Morty appeared between us, a look of terror plastered over his features as he scurried past us and disappeared into the garage. When Beth’s hand tried to wiggle the doorknob, she looked up in dismay as she realized it was locked. Her dismay turned into irritation as she started banging on the door.

“Dad, what’s going on in there!? Are you okay? Is Morty okay?” she yelled as she rapped her fist against the door.

“Sweetie, I need you to take Nova and go back into the kitchen. It is not a good idea for you to be banging on that door right now,” Rick shouted, his voice laced with irritation and it was then that I realized there was more noise than just Beth’s fists against the door. At her father’s words, she stopped abruptly, looking to me for input. I couldn’t help but mimic her father’s shrug at her as we both returned to stare at the wooden door.

“Is Morty okay?” I squeaked, surprised at the sound. I heard a groan from the other side of the door.

“Nova, you and Beth go look at curtains some more,” he urged angrily. “This is a rather delicate procedure and I’ll be honest sweetie, you’re distracting me.” I couldn’t help but take it to a personal place as my heartbeat thudded with pride that I could even be a distraction to the great Rick Sanchez. If I was honest with myself, I was just desperate for his attention. I looked to Beth, extending my hand to her to lead her back into the kitchen.

She hesitated a moment, looking the door over once more. “Morty, can you just tell me you’re okay?” she asked, a maternal pleading in her voice.

“I’m okay Mom, Rick and I will be done soon,” he assured her, a confidence in his voice that didn’t reflect his earlier disposition in the slightest. Beth finally relented and allowed me to lead her back out into the kitchen. The catalog of home furnishings laid on the counter completely ignored as we watched the hallway, waiting.

A sharp knock on the front door broke us from our reverie. The noise from the garage had ceased but Rick and Morty hadn’t emerged yet. Beth quickly got up to answer the door, calling me with a groan when she pulled the door opened. It was her not so subtle way to try to prepare me for the fact that my husband had come looking for me. I sighed deeply, resigning myself to slapping a big smile over my face as I went to greet him.

“Hi, honey,” I said with a broad smile, kissing him quickly on the cheek. In the back of my mind, I could only think of how I’d hoped Rick wouldn’t see us right now. I shook my head at the thought, scoffing at how ridiculous it sounded. Like Rick would give a shit. Ryan gave a strained smile as he looked at me, his disapproval soaking in my skin.

“I got home and my wife and daughter had disappeared. What’s going on?” he asked, looking around curiously, daring me to reveal whatever transgression I was committing that would inconvenience him like this.

“I brought Maddy over to hang out with Summer while Beth helped me pick out curtains for the family room,” I told him truthfully, hoping it would keep me on his good side, at least for a little while.

“I just got home, and I was expecting dinner. I’m famished,” he said with a forced smile. Rick and Morty reappeared from the garage and I could only imagine the sight they found. Superficially, Ryan was the husband of the year. I was always provided for and taken care of. My job to him was more along the lines of a paid hobby that barely registered on his radar. That meant when I wasn’t working, it was expected for me have dinner waiting for him when he pulled up in the driveway. The seldom few times it wasn’t prepared, there had been hell to pay and I knew I was in trouble. Rick was watching Ryan and me closely, immediate distrust building on his face.

“Nova was going to make dinner, but I suggested we go out as a family for dinner,” he said, throwing me the life preserver I so desperately needed. “We were just waiting for you to get home. We haven’t gotten the chance to catch up much since I’ve been back.”

“Rick I thought-” Morty started before Rick subtly stepped on his foot, effectively silencing the boy with a whimper. Ryan’s eyes narrowed, obviously not buying it for a second before breaking out into a huge smile.

“That sounds great Rick,” he said, his agreeable tone only known to me to be as fake as they come. “I’ll run home and get changed, where did you have in mind?” He asked innocently, piquing an eyebrow at the blue-haired man. I don’t know who he thought he was trying to trick into playing his hand, but it was gonna take a lot more than that to catch Rick in a lie.

“Shoney’s,” Rick replied with a casual shrug. Ryan smiled again and nodded, chuckling softly before disappearing out of the front door to go change out of his suit. As the door closed behind him, I felt a huge sigh of relief and returned to my cold cup of coffee in the kitchen. Rick followed me, surprisingly silent in his observation. He seemed to be surveying my features carefully, trying to find a crack in my facade of a happy housewife.

“Need something, Rick?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the man across the counter from me. “I have to go get Madison and tell her we’re going to Shoney’s for dinner.” I sighed, “Shoney’s by the way? I didn’t even think they still had those around here.”

“Beth, can you get the girls real quick?” Rick asked his daughter gruffly. She nodded obediently and disappeared up the stairs to Summer’s room. He continued to look me over intently, so much so that I was starting to get uncomfortable until he finally spoke. “Nova, are you okay?” He asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

“I’m fine, Rick,” I sighed, too tired to put in any of the effort required for such a heavy conversation. It was always the same questions. ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Does he hurt you?’ ‘Do you need help?’ It was always the same questions, with almost always the same answers. My eyes pleaded with him to drop the subject for the time being. It had the intended effect as his gaze broke from mine and he stalked off to the garage without another word.

*+*

Dinner was uneventful for the most part. Rick regaled us with tales of his adventures with his portal gun through time and space. I caught him up on my life, how I’d be ‘happily’ married for over ten years and worked part-time at a salon. Had my overly jealous husband not been standing there watching over me at every second, I would’ve told Rick it had been watching over him mixing chemicals that had inspired me to do so, but a story for another time. The evening was unceremoniously ended when Jerry started talking about his advertising campaign at work and Rick cut him off to tell everyone how late it had gotten.

Rick had continued to watch Ryan for the whole night, and the growing look of disgust on his face told me very simply that he didn’t approve in the slightest. By the end of the night, he just looked irritated and when offering goodbyes, planted a gentle kiss on my forehead, my cheeks flushing. I’d never been so thankful for the inky darkness of the night. Madison begged for us to let her stay the night with Summer, and with a glance to Beth, I nodded and the girls squealed in excitement. In the parking lot, we finally separated, Beth, Jerry and the kids piling in the station wagon and Rick climbing into what looked like a pile of garbage made to look like a stereotypical UFO. I raised my eyebrow in disbelief at him.

“What in the hell is that?” I asked incredulously. He turned the key and I was surprised to hear an engine turn over from within.

“It’s my spaceship,” Rick shrugged. “I made it out of crap from the garage.” He observed my gaping expression. I couldn’t stop staring at the headlights made from two flashlights. I was torn between how innovative that truly was and wondering how in the hell he made it work,

“That’s incredible Rick,” I said breathlessly. I looked up at him mouth still agape, he looked down at me, prideful.

“Glad you like it, kiddo. I’ll have to take you for a spin in it some time,” he suggested as a smile formed on his face. I had to ignore the images that floated through my brain at the thought, each one more vulgar than the last. I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible once I saw Ryan beginning to grow irritated with the conversation.

“Sweetheart,” he started, his anger leaking into his tone, “we have to get home. It’s already 8:45pm and some of us have very important meetings tomorrow morning.” He smiled shortly at Rick before grabbing me by the arm. I resisted the urge to yelp in pain, as he forced me over to the car. He released me by the passenger side door, leaving me to open the door and climb in. I smiled sadly at Rick and waved goodbye as he watched me, his face completely neutral. The ride home was silent despite a seething rage that was building in the driver's seat. I just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and avoid him, but when the car pulled into the garage and he didn’t immediately climb out, I knew this fight would start in the car.

“Are you trying to embarrass me?” he asked tone icy and calm. No matter how many times he used that tone on me, it always terrified me. “I don’t want you hanging around that Rick, (Y/N),” he scolded me.

“I haven’t been hanging around him, he’s Beth’s dad. He lives in her house,” I assured him.

“Then I guess you won’t be hanging around Beth’s anymore,” he shrugged coldly, opening the car door, seemingly happy with the outcome of our talk.

“Beth is my best friend!” I cried out, begging him to see reason.

“Look, I’ve tolerated Beth for this long because she’s our neighbor but she has always been rude to me and you just let her. You’re letting her ruin our marriage,” he spat.

“I’m sorry, please don’t take Beth from me,” I sobbed, completely falling apart. “W-what about Madi? She and Summer are close,” I pleaded. He paused for a moment, considering.

“Madi is free to see Summer. I’ll be fielding all interactions. You’re not to go over there without me,” he conceded. “You’ve done this to yourself. You will respect me and you will respect our marriage.” My sniffles subsided, happy to at least be able to still see my best friend even with his restrictions. I climbed out of the car to follow him inside, wiping my tears away and trying to steady my breathing.

“Psst.”

I whipped my head around, looking for the source of the sound, seeing nothing but stopping to listen for it again. Ryan paid no attention to me, going inside.

“Psssst.” The noise came again, seemingly from the small bush from the corner of the house. I walked over to investigate only to find Morty hiding in the bushes.

“What are you doing Morty?” I whispered, smiling through the dried tears on my cheeks.

“Aw, jeez, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admitted sheepishly. “I heard Mr. Dawes yelling at you. You shouldn’t put up with that you know.” He said sadly. “Did he say you’re not allowed at our house anymore?”

“It’s complicated Morty.” I sighed. “It’s something adults have to deal with sometimes, buddy. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“I understand it well enough right now,” he asserted stubbornly, “My grandpa explained it to me.”

“What?” I hissed as confusion and embarrassing distorted my face. “What did he tell you?”

“He basically said he’s got you trapped in your marriage and he treats you like shit because he knows you won’t go anywhere because you have low self-esteem after what happened with your parents,” he said plainly. A look of horror crossed my face as he spoke, I wanted to be angry for being called out but instead, tears start falling down my cheeks, as Morty rested his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay Aunt Nova. Rick said-”

“Look FUCK what Rick said,” I growled, anger finally seeping into my tone. “Rick left, he doesn’t know shit about me anymore. You tell him to keep his mouth shut about me and my marriage.”

“(Y/N), what the fuck are you doing? Get in here!” Ryan called from the front door, freezing me in my place.

“Look, Morty, go home. I’m fine,” I told him coldly, my heartbreaking as I watched his face fall as he remains rooted to the spot. “Morty, go the fuck home,” I hissed, trying to keep my tone as venomous as possible to not betray how much yelling at him was killing me. He narrowed his eyes but finally slipped from behind the bush, running to his backyard. I steadied myself, trying to prepare myself for my “loving husband’s” wrath.

“Seriously (Y/N), get your stupid ass in here,” he called from the porch again, almost looking angrier when he finally spotted me. He eyed the area I emerged from suspiciously as I walked up to the porch. “What the fuck were you doing?”

“I thought I heard an animal in the bushes,” I lied easily. “I didn’t want them to eat the roses we planted.” The appearance of the house was something he took very seriously, so it was no surprise when his suspicious look softened.

“Just get in the house,” he said coldly, pushing me through the threshold and flat on my face. I pick myself gingerly off the floor, opting not to look up at him as I did so. “You’re acting strange (Y/N). I don’t like it and I want it to stop,” he ordered. “Get upstairs and get ready for bed. I’ll be up in a minute.” I quickly made my way up the stairs, listening closely to hear the glass from his liquor cabinet clinking around. Great, he’ll be drunk by the time he comes up.

I took a deep breath, going into our bedroom to gather clothes for a shower, hoping he’d be asleep by the time I was done. I let the water fall around me, finally letting myself cry under the cascade. I knew Morty was right, but what good could that information do me? Just because Rick “understood” all the nuances of my marriage from one outing, doesn’t mean he knew how to fix it. I couldn’t leave, Ryan would find me and kill me. He had assured me of it.

Climbing out of the warm shower, the cool air of the rest of the bathroom swirled around me. I wiped the mirror clear, taking a moment to look at the bruise forming on my chin from where it came in contact with the floor. I sighed, moving to dry my hair completely before putting on my pajamas. I went back to the bedroom, finding my husband sitting facing away from me on the bed, holding a crystal glass in his hands, studying the brown liquid within intently. I approached him carefully, trying to gauge his level of intoxication.

“You know what I would do to you if you ever tried to leave right?” he asked coldly, keeping his gaze on the glass. “You’re mine, (Y/N). This house, this family, it’s all mine. You will never take that away from me.” I stood in silent terror as he spoke, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. “You think that Beth or Jerry or hell even Rick could protect you from me?” he asked, finally looking up at me. “You’re. Mine.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I assured him, voice microscopic. “I love you-” A sharp blow to my cheek took my breath away and threw me to the ground.

“Don’t give me that shit. You married me for my money. That’s why you’re making eyes at that geriatric fuck. Do you think he would even want you? Fuck, I barely want you,” he spat at me from above. “I took vows though so I guess I’m stuck with you but I will be damned if you disrespect me the way you did tonight ever again.”

“I wasn’t disrespecting you-” I cried out as he picks me up off the floor and roughly threw me on the bed.

“The fuck you weren’t. Talking about how incredible his piece of shit ‘spaceship’ is.” Accusation dripped in every syllable. “Don’t think I saw the look of awe you had when he was telling us those stupid stories from his adventures. You realize it’s all a big ruse right? Or are you too stupid?”

“I don’t think so-” I countered, anger building despite myself earning me a shove into the dresser.

“Are you fucking kidding me? He left. Just like your parents did because you’re so hard to love. You told me all the stories about when you were kids, you really think it’s a coincidence that you moved into their house and suddenly he was gone?” he hissed at me as I picked myself up off the dresser, holding my arm against me and trying to fight the tears building.

“That had nothing to do with it,” I shot back at him. “He’d discovered his portal technology and started going on adventures.”

“Are you this fucking stupid (Y/N)?” he bellowed, looking at me incredulously. “You’re parents didn’t love you enough to even notice you moved out of your fucking house. You drive everyone around you away,” he screamed. “You are the worst kind of person. You act like this innocent little fucking victim and everyone should feel sorry for you but everything you get, you bring onto yourself.” He towered over me, shouting mere inches from my face. The floodgates broke and I slunk down against the wall, sobbing into my hands. He was angry, but he was right. My parents didn’t love me enough to notice I’d even left. Even his points about Rick stung after thinking about them long enough. There had truly only been one constant in my life, no matter what.

“Beth,” I croaked, “Beth has always loved me, no matter what.” An ugly snarl forms on his face, disgusted to even hear her name.

“Beth loves you because you’re constantly at her beck and call, no matter what. She needs something? You’re there like a damn puppy to take whatever you can off of her plate. It’s fucking pathetic,” he growled, squatting down next to me and grabbing my injured arm tightly causing me to wince in pain. “Now get off the fucking floor and get into bed. I don’t have time for this shit (Y/N). I have a meeting in the morning. I expect you to have breakfast ready before I leave so you need to go to sleep now,” he demanded, throwing me onto my side of the bed.

I laid there in terror as he moved around the bed and climbed under his blankets. I laid completely still, waiting until he started snoring to slip into the bathroom and clean myself up. Flicking on the light, I was greeted with a grisly sight, dried blood caked under my nose and a shiner developing under my eye. I wanted to cry at the sight of myself, but I couldn’t find any more tears to shed. Methodically I started gently wiping the blood off of my face and adjusting my arm to see if it was legitimately damaged or just sore. For now, it seemed like the latter, but I knew I would have to go easy on it if I wanted it to return to normal soon. I started applying makeup, anything to delay myself having to go back out there and lay in that bed next to him, convincing myself that if I start with the concealer now, it will be easy to just touch it up in the morning. When I had finally run out of things to distract myself, I sighed deeply to myself, preparing myself to reenter the bedroom. I gingerly climbed into the bed we shared, holding my breath so as not to disturb him and face his wrath again.

+Ch2: Snap Out Of It+

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez/reader

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hqsofia · 5 years

Text

are you ready for it?

TAGGING: Jordan @jordnconnor , Sofia.

LOCATION: New Orleans, LA.

TIMEFRAME: April 6th, 2019.

NOTES: Sofia comes to visit Jordan in NOLA and an altercation in a bar leads to something more.

Jordan If there was one downfall about shooting in a place as awesome as New Orleans, it was that you were pretty limited on people to hang out with unless you wanted to spend every waking moment with your cast mates. Luckily for Jordan, he had people dedicated enough to their friendship that they would make the trip down to see him - Sofia being one of them. If he had wrapped on set earlier, he would've driven to the airport to pick her up, but she had already landed by the time he was barely on his second scene of the day. Still, he supposed that allowed her time to get settled and ready before the plans that they had for the evening. It was already nearing 10pm as Jordan sat on a bar stool of their arranged meeting place, which meant they had a lot of drinking and a lot of excited chatting to do before the bar kicked the last stragglers out at closing time. Lifting a bottle of beer to his lips, Jordan kept a keen eye out for the dark-haired actress, breaking out into an instant grin as he spotted the gloss of her hair from a mile away. Weaving his way through the crowd, the male hurriedly swept his friend off the floor from behind, his arms hugged around her waist as he gave her a little spin. "Carson! You made it!".

Sofia was thankful for the chance to put a busy week behind her and travel somewhere for fun instead of work. She loved her job and was so grateful for the opportunities it had given her, but she was tired and needed the weekend to treat herself. Her week had started in New York, a day full of press and then she had spent the rest of the week in the studio. Music was her passion and she was thankful for the time in the studio because it helped her to relax, but when Jordan had invited her to spend the weekend in New Orleans she couldn't pass up the opportunity. Her flight landed in the afternoon while Jordan was on set so she had settled into her hotel, Facetimed her sister and then did some exploring of her own before heading back to her hotel to get ready for the night. It had rained most of the day but she wasn't going to let that affect her mood. She thanked her driver as he pulled over to let her out at the bar Jordan had picked for them to meet up at and hurried inside to avoid the rain. Sofia gasped as she felt Jordan's strong arms around her waist, snorting as she laughed in classic Sofia fashion. "Jordy!" she greeted him with a smile when he finally set her down, turning to face him so that she could give him a hug.

Jordan As nice as his current castmates were, there was something even more exciting about having a friend you’d known from before joining you for a night - a fact that was shown clearly by how tightly Jordan held Sofia as he hugged her back. “How was your flight?” He spoke over her shoulder, finally releasing her and taking in her appearance. Suddenly he wished he had dressed in something a little different than his denim jacket, baseball cap, and boots, but he never was one to put thought into an outfit for the evening rather than just plans themselves. “C’mere, let me get you a drink. I can’t believe you actually came here for me, as nice as the hotel I’m staying at is, I was starting to go a little stir crazy”. Leading her over to the bar, Jordan angled himself into a space and awaited one of the bartenders to be done seeing one of the many drinkers. He had begun to love the nightlife in New Orleans. There was never a shortage of live music or people around, no matter how early it reached in the morning. “Can I get a uh, double Jack and coke, and...what’re you thirsty for, Sof?”.

Sofia "It was good," she answered with a smile, ridding herself of her leather jacket and slinging it across her arm. "Well, I can't say no to a drink," she replied with a smirk. "Of course I came! I've been so busy with work, it's nice to finally have a little break," she added, joining him at the bar. "I'll take a margarita," she answered with a smile. She looked around at the establishment and rolled her eyes at some guys who stood in a corner looking wasted already. She also noticed a dance floor that piqued her interest, but for now, she was content to just sit and have a drink with her friend.

Jordan Turning back to the bartender, Jordan ordered Sofia’s drink as well as his own and tapped his card against the contactless reader. Then, his undivided attention was back on Sofia (despite being admittedly curious about how the hell a margarita was made - he was a man of simple drinks, himself). “What have they been working you hard doing? You seem to have a million things going on at once, I can’t keep up with you”. Okay, so that was an exaggeration, but he remembered when they first met she gave him the low-down on Descendants and The Perfectionists, and he had since learned that she had a killer voice, too. So there was no knowing which direction her career was taking. When the drinks were ready, Jordan grabbed both of them and handed Sofia hers, scouting out a table they could sit at. “Wanna go over there?”

Sofia smiled as he ordered their drinks and then turned his attention back to her, "Well, I was in New York on Monday for PLL press, I actually met Mark when I was on LIVE with Kelly and Ryan because he was filling in with Kelly for Ryan," she started, "He was going on and on about how proud he is of all of you, it was very sweet," she added with a grin. "Then I spent the rest of the week in the studio as much as possible, which has actually been really fun," she continued. "Recording my music is actually kind of relaxing for me, but I'm thankful to actually be able to relax now with no work at all," she finished, tucking her hair behind her ear just as the bartender arrived with their drinks. She thanked him and then nodded at Jordan as she took a quick sip. "Sure," she said, "I want to hear all about what you've been up to down here."

Jordan “Shit, make sure they don’t pull you from too many angles, eh? They need to save some of you for the rest of us.” Jordan was yet to experience a workload that hectic - he wasn’t exactly successful enough to be booking talk shows or press days yet, for which he was sort of thankful for. He had always been a pretty private person, but of course, he would jump at the chance to be interviewed by Mark. “Really? He’s such a cool guy, I feel like I’d feel too comfortable being interviewed by him and start talking utter shit to him like we usually do. I’m gonna have to catch a replay of that or something”. Moving towards the table in the corner, Jordan shimmied himself into the cushioned chairs and shrugged off his jacket before taking a few too many refreshing gulps from his glass. “Me? Just the same old really, I’ve tried to cram in as much touristy stuff as possible when I’ve not been filming, and I’ve been having a lot of seafood barbecues with the cast on our off-days because...apparently that’s big around here? How long are you planning on staying, anyway? I could see if anyone would be down for it tomorrow?”

Sofia “I didn’t know I was in such high demand,” she teased with a chuckle. “Yeah, it was super fun, meeting him and Kelly together was great, they’re a very sweet couple,” she replied with a smile. “That would be fun to see,” she answered with a cheeky grin. “I pranked them because it was April Fools Day and it was really funny, you’ll have to watch it on YouTube,” she added. Sofia slid into the chairs as well and set her jacket beside her. She sipped at her drink slowly as he answered her. “Sounds fun, I was thinking of staying all weekend so I’m totally down,” she answered with a smile. Meeting his cast mates would be cool and partaking in some classic New Orleans traditions sounded fun.

Jordan “Well, you said you wanted to be a bro, right? That means you’ve got to be available at 3am sometimes so you can join me and Drew in sitting around in our underwear, headsets on, playing online video games against each other. It’s just the law.” He teased, though it certainly wasn’t a lie. Even though he and Drew lived together now, they had definitely still played in different rooms on shooting games to keep each others location a mystery. He wanted to ask how she managed to prank Mark and Kelly but figured it’d be best kept as a surprise as he had every intention on watching the interview, so he sipped on his drink to help combat the curiosity. “Awesome. Remind me to not get too wasted then, because of the sight of crayfish still alive in a cooler before they get barbecued is something, not even I could stomach on a hangover”. Luckily the barbecues usually took place in a crew member’s back yard, which meant a large expanse of an open airfield, complete with wooded areas surrounding it and the odd barn or two. Vastly different to Vancouver living, and something he only ever thought he’d see in zombie apocalypse movies. “What do you usually like doing in your downtime, anyway?”

Sofia "Yes, I want to be a bro," she confirmed with another laugh. "I'm not very good at video games, but I'll try if it will help with my bro status," she answered. "I'll keep an eye on your alcohol intake," she assured him with a smile. "I usually spend as much of my downtime with my sister as possible, but I also like to travel," she answered, taking another sip of her drink. One of the guys in the opposite corner that she had noticed before was now looking her way and gesturing to his friend. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Jordan to avoid a glance her way. She was not interested in interacting with drunk frat boys. Sofia finished up her drink with a few more sips and nodded towards the bar, "Do you need a refill?" she asked, standing up with her empty glass in hand.

Jordan “It’s cool, we can train you up real good. You’ll be a pro at shooting animated things within no time.” Jordan assured her with a smile. Sometimes Vanessa would join them in their video game quests but that always made the teams uneven, so bringing in Sofia as his teammate sounded like a damn good idea now their third musketeer was happily shacked up with his best friend and therefore biased. “Well, I’m glad you’ve got another state to tick off the travel list now - if you’ve never been here before, that is. I’m a big traveler, too. Before I signed on to Riverdale I spent a year backpacking around Asia, and I can’t remember ever feeling happier.” He admitted, unsure why his brain had allowed him to tap into those memories considering they all contained his now ex-fiancé. He really needed to get back out there again on his own this time to rewrite all the good times. Nodding his head to her question, Jordan gave her a “yeah, please”, without noticing the attention she was gaining. If he wasn’t a male himself he probably would’ve picked up on that sort of thing easier and went in her place so they couldn’t ogle at her anymore, but alas - he wasn’t, so he didn’t.

Sofia "Sounds like a plan," Sofia responded with a grin. She hardly knew anything about video games, but she was always up for trying new things, especially to help a friend. "I'm glad too," she said with a smile, listening intently as he spoke about his year backpacking around Asia. "That sounds amazing," she replied, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Sofia grabbed his empty glass and made her way back over to the bar, paying no attention to the boys in the corner. Setting the empty glasses down, she politely asked for refills and pulled out her phone to keep herself busy while she waited. She was scrolling through Instagram when she felt someone come up behind her and she did her best to ignore him as he tried to get her attention. His breath reeked of alcohol and she could smell it over her shoulder. Sofia was trying to tune him out, hoping that by ignoring him he would just go away, but then she felt his hand on her ass and she whipped around instantly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she said in a sharp no-nonsense tone.

Jordan: Relaxing back into the seat, Jordan tried to divert his attention onto other things but found his gaze kept falling back onto Sofia’s back, grateful that she had come and he got to hang out with someone else for once. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the guy approach her almost instantly, though he assumed he was just another drunken bar-goer with a lack of respect for personal space, so he watched some people dancing on the dance floor until he heard Sofia’s voice in a tone that he wasn’t used to hearing her use. Furrowing his brow, Jordan wasted no time in heading over, putting two and two together as he noticed the look on the unapologetic guy's face. Grabbing him rather harshly by the shoulder, Jordan pulled the male back so he could get to Sofia, paying him no mind. “What’s going on here, Sof? Are you alright?”

Sofia was thankful to have gotten Jordan's attention so quickly with her tone. She caught her breath as he came to her rescue and she noticed her heart was pounding in her chest. "Y-yeah, I'm okay," she assured him although her tone was a bit shaky. "He's been eyeing me all night, but I tried to just ignore it and then he came up here and when I didn't pay him any attention he grabbed my ass," she whispered, biting down on her lower lip and reaching out to grab Jordan's arm to keep her steady. She had no idea what Jordan was going to do now that he knew what had actually happened. Sofia sat down on the empty barstool behind her and reached for the drink refill the bartender had just set down for her. She took a few sips and enjoyed the cool taste of the alcohol.

Jordan He could’ve guessed that the guy was being a creep. He always heard the complaint from women about men in bars not showing them the respect they deserved, but that didn’t prepare him for the shake in Sofia’s voice and the way that it made him feel. His grip on the man's shoulder tightened like a vice so that he could feel the inner part of his collar bone. If there was one thing that he wasn’t going to stand for - it was for creeps like this thinking they could get away with pulling stunts like this. “Alright asshole, you have two options. Either you apologize to my friend here right now, go grab your coat, and hit the road. Or I’m gonna drag you out of here by the skin of your neck, and you’re not gonna like it”. He could tell the man was contemplating being cocky by glancing over at his friends in the corner to see if he’d have back up, so Jordan curled his fingers round that much deeper, hitting a pressure point and causing the male to grimace and squirm under his grip. “You have four seconds”.

Sofia couldn't help the slight smile that crossed her face as Jordan confronted the creep in front of her. He was a total sweetheart, but now she was seeing a whole different side of him and it was doing something to her. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol coursing through her veins or just the fact that he was standing up for her, but suddenly she wasn't feeling so much like a bro. Sofia continued to sip her drink as Jordan got more serious. She watched as he hit a pressure point in the other guy's shoulder and watched as the creep squirmed under his grip. Before she knew it her glass was empty and she was asking for just one more because she was already starting to feel a bit tipsy.

Jordan Before Jordan could speak again, the creep finally broke his silence, a peeved look on his face. “Look, I was just trying my luck, alright? You would too wouldn’t you or is your job here just to be the worlds biggest cockblock? I mean if it’s your girlfriend, my bad, sorry to tell you this but I’ve been making eye contact with her ever since she got here”. He preferred when the shithead wasn’t talking. The urge to sling a right hook around his face was overwhelming, to say the least - Jordan felt his free hand bundle into a fist and he had to suck in a long breath to prevent it from flying. It wasn’t as if he was worried how he’d fare - the actor usually doubled most people in size, and he had taken up boxing as a hobby a long time ago, but he had never had to use it, rogue, before. At times he could be pretty hot-headed, and at other times completely soft, but the only thing stopping him in this instance was the fear of it getting out to the world. He could already imagine the articles about it. ‘Riverdale star kicked out of the bar for starting a brawl. Descendants star, Sofia Carson pictured here leaving after him’. Instead of letting it get that far, Jordan did exactly as promised and started hurling him towards the door, doing the bouncers work for them. “Alright, second option it is.”

Sofia rolled her eyes as the creep broke his silence. She could tell his words were really getting to Jordan when she saw his free handle bunch up into a fist, "Jordan... don't..." she whispered, not wanting a fight to break out because of her that would result in pissing off the Looking For Alaska crew. Sofia was fine to just ignore the douchebag, gather her things and go but she also didn't want to have to leave just because this asshole couldn't mind his own business and be a decent human. She gasped slightly as Jordan began to hurl the creep towards the door and watched as his friends followed suit, grumbling and complaining as they went. Once Jordan came back to her, she was sipping her third drink and smiling right at him. "My hero," she whispered sweetly, placing her hand on her heart with a cheesy grin.

Jordan As Jordan passed the one doorman, all he had to do was quickly share what the guy had done for the staff member to agree he had to go, and Jordan shoved the man out through the door, confident that he wouldn’t be allowed back in, along with his other potentially creepy friends. Then, he made his way back over to Sofia, shoulders still hunched as it would take another drink to allow him to fully unwind from the guy's audacity. Her smile worked wonders with cheering him up somewhat though, and he waved a hand at her in an ‘it’s nothing’ gesture. “Just doing my part for Gotham city” he quipped, letting the inner nerd speak for him rather than coming up with a cooler response. “I don’t know about you, but I could really do with some shots now...” catching the eye of the bartender, Jordan acted upon his cravings and ordered a round of one tequila and one sambuca for each of them.

Sofia snorted at his comment about 'doing his part for Gotham city' and nodded her head in response to his request for shots. "I'm down for shots, honestly anything to help me forget the feeling of his hand on my ass," she shuddered, reaching over for the first tequila shot that the bartender set down in front of her. She counted down and swallowed it, wincing as it slightly burned the back of her throat. "Jesus, I haven't done a shot in a while," she replied with a laugh. Sofia took the sambuca shot next and it burned a little less, but she still made a face. She was definitely starting to feel it now, "Jordy..." she giggled, trying to keep it together. "I really appreciate you taking care of me."

Jordan Quickly paying for the shots once more, Jordan aligned them both in front of them, reaching for the same one Sofia was going for first. He had always preferred Sambuca over Tequila, so it only made sense to use it as a chaser. Of course, it was a little harsher than your normal chaser, so he grimaced once they were both down the hatch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before smiling back at Sofia as she called him by her nickname. "I told you I would, didn't I? I'm just sorry it had to happen so soon" he reached out and rest his hand just above the wrist, on her arm that currently rest upon the bartop, and his expression turned serious for a moment. "If it's really got to you, we can leave, if you want. Or, we can go dance and forget about that prick. Either way, I'll drop you back at your hotel later and walk you to your room. There's no way I want you to feel uncomfortable here or anything".

Sofia nodded, "Yes, you did," she smiled. "It's okay," she said, resting her free hand over his above her wrist. "I'm not going to let some prick ruin our night," she added. "Let's dance a little bit and then we can head back to my hotel," she decided, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the dance floor. Sofia whispered to the worker who was running the music and requested 'Pop' by N Sync as a surprise for Jordan. She smiled as it started over the speakers and started dancing in Jordan's direction, shaking her hips and singing along at the top of her lungs as she dragged him into the center of the dance floor with her. "Show me whatcha got Jordy," she said above the music, continuing to move her hips to the beat.

Jordan Nodding along in agreement, Jordan allowed himself to be led onto the dancefloor, only for her to leave him moments later. It became pretty evident why though when the recognizable intro of 'Pop' came on, and the tall actor had to shake his head in disbelief that she had gone there. "You didn't" he grinned as she made her way back to him by cutting shapes. The vast music change didn't deter anyone else on the dancefloor though, so he figured there was no harm in showing Sofia just as weird as his dancing could get. "You're going to regret this." He stated before throwing out some of his best 'break dancing moves' - they were all pretty terrible, obviously, with the exception of maybe the end part where he threw himself onto the ground to do the worm. He was always pretty proud of his ability to nail that one. Then, once he'd got back to his feet, he instantly grabbed for her and pulled her into him as a way of hiding his embarrassment in a tight hug. "I hate you".

Sofia "I did," she answered with a smirk. "I don't think I'll regret it," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. Sofia watched as he started to break dance and she couldn't help the snort that escaped her. Honestly, she wasn't sure why she was laughing and she hoped she hadn't embarrassed him. He just looked so cute with his break dancing moves and all she could do was laugh. She clapped her hands and cheered when he did the worm though, that was impressive. Sofia squealed as he got back up and grabbed for her, pulling her into him for the second time that night. She managed to turn around in his grip and their faces were mere inches from each other, "You don't really mean that" she whispered, looking into his eyes. If she wasn't dead set on being a bro this would've been a moment where she kissed him and she blamed the alcohol coursing through her veins for even giving her that thought.

Jordan "No, I definitely think I do" he started out strong, his laughter fading out into more of a chuckle as he met her gaze and his act faltered. "Okay so no, I don't at all. But I'm going to get you back for that. I come to your rescue and this is how you reward me? You know I can't resist the N'Sync". Taking a few glances around the room, Jordan noticed a few people smiling directly at him, and once he glanced back down at Sofia he only then realized he had kept hold of her the entire time. "Come on, now I really gotta get out of here before too many people try and recruit me into their dance squads". Reluctantly, Jordan released her from his arms and collected their jackets, eager for a change of scenery.

Sofia smiled, "I know, that's why I had to do it, you were great!" she responded excitedly. "Dance squads?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. She couldn't help but laugh. Sofia accepted her jacket from him and slid it on before linking her arm in his, desperate to keep some sort of contact between them. As they stepped outside, she rested her head against his arm, suddenly feeling sleepy. She didn't want to sleep though, she would much rather prefer staying up talking with him. As they got into the car he had got for them, she slid into the backseat and gave the driver the name of the hotel where she was staying.

Jordan “Yeah, yeah. You know you’d wanna sign me if you were a talent agent.” Jordan remarked as they left the bar. A quick unlock of his phone had him ordering an Uber with a few taps, and with the amount that was lingering around New Orleans, one came within no time. He wasn’t oblivious to the way Sofia had been cuddling up to him, in fact, he had been trying to ignore how nice it felt to be that close, so as they slid into the car he sat in the seat next to her rather than the two by the windows. The warmth of the car and the street lights passing by worked their calming effect on Jordan, and he too fell into a rather sleepy state with the mixture of alcohol, but there was no way he was going to give in when this was the first night they would actually spend hanging out together. Within what seemed like no time at all, the car pulled up outside the hotel, and Jordan thanked the driver before assisting Sofia in getting out of the car and making his way inside the hotel lobby. “Whew,” he let out a long whistle. “This is MUCH nicer than where they’ve put me up”.

Sofia “Keep dreaming,” she teased with a coy smile. Sofia noticed how he had slid right up beside her in the car but didn’t pay it any thought. It was nice to have someone so close. She hadn’t had that in a really long time. As the car pulled up outside of her hotel she graciously accepted his assistance in getting out of the car and smiled. “Such a gentleman you are Jordy,” she whispered before thanking the driver and then heading inside the hotel. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” she teased with a roll of her eyes. It wasn’t true at all, Sofia liked nice things but she didn’t care about spending excessive amounts of money on silly things like hotels. She lead him towards the elevator and pressed the button for her floor as the doors closed. Within just a few seconds they were stepping out onto the floor her room was located on and she was heading towards her door while fishing the key out of her wallet. Sliding the key into the spot on the door, she opened it, “Welcome to my crib,” she exclaimed with a laugh, welcoming him inside.

Jordan With his eyes bouncing around the interior of the hotel, Jordan followed Sofia up to her room. He understood that she was here short term whereas he was being paid to stay in one on the French Quarter for a longer period, so he wasn’t about to be a diva and get jealous that the place was nicer, but it sure would be nice to relax somewhere with a comfy place to sit and room service. They hadn’t exactly discussed him going back for drinks or anything, but the way she had welcomed him inside sounding like as good of an invitation as any, so he slid past her inside, immediately noting the large windows at the far side with a nice view of all the city lights. “Damn, I need to get that Disney channel paycheck”. He joked, moving over to the window and resting a forearm up against it.

Sofia knew they hadn't talked about him coming into her room to hang out but she wasn't ready for the night to end. She laughed at his Disney Channel comment and rolled her eyes again, "You could totally play a prince in one of the new live-action films," she replied with a smile. She took off her jacket and joined him by the window, looking out over the city. "It all looks so peaceful but at the same time full of life," she said. Sofia wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that he had really saved her back there from that creep but she felt herself being drawn closer to him. She tugged at the sleeve of his jacket, "Take off your coat, stay awhile," she said with a smile and a sparkle in her eye.

Jordan gave a chuckle at her comment, his eyes narrowing as he tried to imagine himself in such a role. “You think? We should’ve auditioned for the Aladdin remake, we would have been shoo-ins”. Allowing his mind to wander for a while, the actor was brought back down to earth as he felt the female next to him tugging at his jacket, and he’d be lying if a little excitement didn’t spark inside him. He had been waiting for her to say it out loud that she wanted him to stay a little longer, so he obliged in taking the jacket off. “You sure? I don’t wanna be a pain in the ass if you just want to get to bed. Then again, I’m also /totally/ down with getting in the hotel robes, ordering room service and watching something shitty on TV until you fall asleep”.

Sofia "You would've been the perfect Aladdin to my Jasmine," she said with a smile. Sofia nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure - if I didn't want you to stay I would be politely asking you to leave," she confirmed. "The robes are very comfy," she said, making her way over to the closet to fish out two of them. She tossed one his way and then reached into her suitcase for her pajamas, which were just a pair of short shorts and a tank top. "I'll be right back," she said, disappearing into the bathroom to change into her pajamas and put the robe on. She grabbed a makeup wipe from her makeup bag and rid her face of the products she had been wearing. Sofia emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, fresh-faced and as comfy as ever.

Jordan As Sofia disappeared into the bathroom to make herself comfy, Jordan silently wished that he had brought his sweat pants, but wearing a shirt and jeans underneath the robe would have to do for him - it still had that luxurious feel of being at a spa or something, so he slipped the thing on and made himself comfy on the bed, over the comforter. It didn’t take long for Sofia to be finished, but by the time she had emerged, he had flicked on one of the music channels on her TV. It was a strange turn of events, ending up back in her hotel room already, and Jordan had to fish around in his mind for something to talk about to prevent his mind from wandering other places. That failed, however, as she re-emerged looking as naturally good as she ever did, and Jordan found his eyes lingering a little too long on her, so he merely offered a sheepish smile when she caught his eye.

Sofia caught Jordan's gaze lingering on her but said nothing about it, just offering him a smile in return. She giggled at the sight of his jeans peeking out of the robe. "Did you find something to watch?" she asked, joining him on the bed. Something about this felt different from nights she would spend with BooBoo and Cameron on the set of Descendants. With them, she felt like a bro but right now sitting here so close to Jordan she felt the least bit like a bro. She knew she shouldn't let her mind wander, but she couldn't stop herself. Sofia could admit that Jordan was attractive, but she had never thought of him in this way. Something had changed tonight when he had thrown that creep out of the bar and every time she looked at him her mind traveled back to that moment. He had gotten so heated and she would have been lying if she said she hadn't been thinking about how hot he had looked. She was usually bold, but all of a sudden she was shy and she didn't want to make any moves because she didn't want to make anything weird. If anything was going to happen tonight, it would be on his terms.

Jordan: had been in this situation before. Girl invites you round to her place, doesn’t exactly suggest anything, but you’re still left wondering ‘what if I leaned across and kissed her right now?’ but this was different. He had already built a solid foundation with Sofia as ‘friends’, and a little more hung in the balance, so it was going to take a lot more caution and a lot more work with her. Work that he was willing to put in if he would just admit it to himself. Because god, every fiber in his being wanted to kiss her right now, just to see what it would be like. Deciding to play along with her conversation, Jordan’s eyes stayed firmly glued to the TV screen. “Yeah, yeah...I went for the music channel, because...real quality entertainment...” he trailed off, knowing he wasn’t making any sense. Oh fuck it, if he didn’t find out now, when would he ever? “I’m sorry, I can’t concentrate. I’m just gonna try something...feel free to slap me, if you want” He disclaimed, feeling like he needed to seeing as they had banged on so much about her being ‘his bro’. Maybe he’d read all of the signs completely wrong, but it was worth a shot, wasn’t it? Then, without another word, Jordan ever so slowly edged into her, giving her every opportunity to pull away if she wanted. He laced his hand under her hair, and pulled her into him the rest of the way until their lips met, but only barely.

Sofia wished at that moment that she could read Jordan’s mind because he looked like he was pretty deep in thought about something. “Hey, music is always a great option. Most times I prefer it over shows unless it’s PLL or Riverdale of course,” she replied with a smile. What happened next slightly caught her off guard but she didn’t mind. She watched him with a curious look in her eyes as he told her he wanted to try something. Sofia was already certain she knew where this was going and she wasn’t going to have to slap him if she was right. His face came closer to her and she kept her eyes focused on him. She arched her back slightly as he pulled her into him, gasping quietly as his lips came in contact with hers. She steadied herself against the mattress with her right hand and let her left hand travel through his hair, pressing her lips more firmly into his and letting out a soft moan. It had been a while since she had kissed anyone and it felt amazing.

Jordan: Until now, kissing Sofia was something that had never crossed Jordan’s mind. But damn, he should’ve thought about it sooner. If he had then he wouldn’t have wasted what little time they had while she was here. Intending on fully making up for that now, Jordan let out a soft hum of pleasure as she arched her body into his. He assisted it gladly by letting the hand that was curled around her neck reach to her hips instead, and he held her close to him, lips moving slowly against hers as he relished the feeling of being intimate with someone again. He pulled away briefly, eyes scanning out her own while his hand held her exactly where she was. “I should’ve done that sooner,” he thought aloud, eyes darting from her own, down to her lips, then back up to her again before he moved in to continue kissing her, his lips gently easing hers open so he could deepen the kiss with his tongue.

Sofia couldn't believe this was actually happening but she had no regrets at all. She felt warmth in the pit of her stomach and she couldn't help but smile into the kiss as his hand moved from her neck to her hip. When his lips left hers, she licked her lips as his eyes traveled from her eyes to her lips and then back up to her eyes. Her hands moved up to hold his face as he continued to kiss her, pulling his face closer to her as she opened her mouth to give him access to her tongue. Not wanting to interrupt the kiss, but wanting to change her position, Sofia kept a hold of his face while she moved to sit on his lap, straddling him with her legs as best she could while he was propped up by the headboard.

Jordan If he was honest with himself, the last time he had been this intimate with someone was when Jinjara had pushed for ‘breakup sex’ which was nothing more than sad and awkward, a memory that he was more than happy to overwrite with the girl in front of him. He almost couldn’t believe that his next ‘experience’ had come in the package that looked like Sofia, and he couldn’t help licking his lips as she straddled him; a vision as she towered above him a little. He found himself taking short breaks from their kissing so he could glance back up at her and take it all in. Then, his hands moved to the tie on her robe, and he blindly began to untie it as he trailed his lips off of her lips, down over her chin, and into the crook of her necks. She smelt like some fruity strain of perfume, and as his tongue grazed out just above her collarbone, he could just about taste it. His lips encountered the robe though, so he pushed it back as far as he could, hoping she would shed off the rest.

Sofia could hardly remember the last time she had kissed someone /not/ for work so she was really drawing a blank on the last time things had gone this far. She watched as Jordan licked his lips as she straddled him and she couldn't help but smile about it. When his hands moved to the tie on her robe she could feel that familiar sense of warmth return to her stomach. Her head tilted back as he trailed his lips over her chin and into the crook of her neck, letting out another soft moan at the feeling of his tongue just above her collarbone. She brought her hands to the robe, shedding it from her arms and letting it fall around her waist. All that lay between them now was her thin spaghetti strap tank top and short shorts. After shedding her own robe, she moved to untie his and peeled it from his arms as well.

Jordan What a waste of time those robes had been. But he was glad they were gone, and that now as he rests his hands upon her thighs, there was nothing but skin beneath his fingertips. Raising his back off the pillows, Jordan captured her lips in his again, enjoying everything just that /little/ bit too much, and he was sure she'd be able to feel it. Making out was one thing, but getting undressed suggested something else entirely, and he didn't want to be too presumptuous, but the tightness of his jeans was more than a little annoying, which he expressed with a frustrated "fuck" before wrapping an arm around her waist and flipping Sofia onto her back in one swift motion. Getting to his knees, Jordan unbuckled his belt and undid his zipper, already feeling ten times better for it. His thick black hair was already beginning to look pretty disheveled from where she had had her hands in it, and yet she still looked immaculately inviting, so his hands work didn't last long before he had dipped back down to continue exploring her body with his lips, his pants left hanging open and ignored momentarily. There were far too many things he wanted to do all at once.

Sofia wanted to laugh at the fact that they had put the robes on maybe 10 minutes ago and they were already off. She ground her hips into his as they continued to make out. As Jordan cursed under his breath she gasped when he flipped her onto her back in one swift motion. He was really good at this, not that she had expected any less. She watched as he unbuckled his belt and undid his zipper, biting her lip. Her head rolled back as he came back down to explore her body with his lips. She wanted to help him out, so while he was kissing down her body she did her best to peel his pants down at least past his ass. She could feel a slight trace of wetness in her panties and she bit her lip again as he continued to work his magic.

Jordan Grateful for her assistance with his pants, Jordan used his legs to kick them completely off, leaving him in just his boxer-briefs and t-shirt, both of which were black, as if he ever really wore any other color. Bunching up her tank top, Jordan exposed Sofia's stomach and continued trailing kisses over every inch of her body that he could reach. He didn't need to see it all to know that she had an amazing one, and his arousal strained against the fabric of his underwear. Then, he reached her shorts, and instead of following the trail with his lips, his eyes met hers once again as the palm of his hand brushed along her inner thigh, snaking it's way under the shorts until his fingertips met with the delicate fabric of her underwear. "Say something, Sof". He spoke softly, hoping to gain some sort of approval to continue what he was doing.

Sofia let out a soft moan as he bunched up her tank top and continued his trail of kisses. She could see the slight bulge in his pants and she couldn’t help but feel good that she had that effect on him. As his fingertips met with the delicate fabric of her underwear she gasped. “Don’t stop,” she mumbled at his request. She was pretty much breathless so it was all she could get out before he got to work.

Jordan couldn't help but smile at her request. Though it was different from any other smile he had given her before - it was coy and devious, and he couldn't help the next words that fell from his mouth. "Well okay then, princess". He knew that in a normal circumstance she would probably inform him that she wasn't a 'Disney princess', but before she could say anything, Jordan's fingers bug beneath the fabric and ran one long stroke up her folds. She was already wet, which only gave him another reason to smile, and instead of wasting any more time beneath her shorts, Jordan retrieved his hands so he could tug them down, her panties coming with them. How many times tonight had he licked his lips already? Putting them to better use, the Canadian repeated his fingers prior motion with his tongue - giving her one, antagonizing long stroke up her center, his fingers digging into the skin on her lower-thighs.

Sofia blushed at the smile he flashed her at her request and the blush stayed on her cheeks as he called her princess. She whimpered as he ran his fingers along her folds. Sofia gasped slightly as he tugged her shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. As he bent down to replace his fingers motion with his tongue she grasped at the sheets with one hand and ran the fingers of her other hand through his hair, tilting her head back in pleasure she let out a much louder moan than before. "Jordan.... yes..." she whimpered, bucking her hips in pleasure.

Jordan If he could resist her moans, Jordan would've probably made her wait a little longer before delving back in, but the more encouragement that fell from her lips, the more the actor lapped at her, his tongue creating circles around her bundle of nerves before taking it between his lips and sucking on it. He let out a groan as her fingers entwined in his hair, and wished she'd pull on it harder. That might've just been his main weakness, paired with biting. Eager to hear more out of her, the actor hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, stiffening his tongue and pushing it inside of her. If anybody had told him that by the end of the night, he'd be tasting Sofia Carson, he would've laughed it off, but a quick glance up at her from his vantage point had him so fucking glad that they would've been right.

Sofia continued to moan as Jordan kept working with his tongue. When he started to suck on her bundle of nerves, she began to lose even more control. "F-fuck..." she stuttered, with a groan. She pulled harder on his hair and gasped as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. With his tongue inside of her, she gripped even harder at his hair. When he looked up at her, she bit her lip and whispered, "I want to feel you inside of me," with a devious smirk on his face. Her hands went for his boxers, starting to remove them from his lower half which was harder to do with one of her legs hooked over his shoulder.

Jordan didn't know it was possible to get any harder than he already was until her soft voice was making her demands, and she'd soon find out just how much it was doing it for him as she tugged at his boxers, and his erection sprung free. Again, kicking them off of himself, Jordan dipped back down between her legs, his breath hot on her core. Sliding two fingers in at once, Jordan curled them both just to tease her, knowing full well that wasn't what she was asking for. "I /am/ inside you, babe" - the nickname had a habit of tumbling out of his mouth in this sort of situation, and it never felt foreign to believe that the recipient was his, if only for the night. With his other hand, Jordan grabbed at his own length, just to show he understood. "Or is this not quite what you had in mind?"

Sofia bit down on her lip, harder this time as his hard member sprung free from his boxers. She shivered at the feeling of his breath hot on her core and let out another moan as he slid two fingers it at once and curled them both inside of her. F-fuck... Jordan... don't tease me," she whimpered. Hearing him call her babe just made her want him more. After this was all over she wasn't sure what was going to happen, but for now, she was loving every minute of this. Sofia wasn't sure how easy it would be to go back to bro's but she didn't care, because this was well worth it. "Definitely not what I had in mind, though it is enjoyable," she whispered breathlessly. She was a dancer so she was flexible which came in handy as she removed her leg from his shoulder and spread herself out in front of him to give him easy access.

Jordan How could he hold out any longer when she was whimpering his name out like that? Maybe another time, he would've persevered with the teasing and really made her beg for it, but it was getting silly now how long it had been since he had any form of release that wasn't brought on by himself, and once she spread herself out in front of him, he couldn't take it any longer. Moving up a little on the bed, Jordan reunited himself with her lips as he angled his erection right where it should be, enjoying sliding it around to coat himself in her wetness a little too much. Then, he slowly began to guide himself inside, letting out a guttural moan as it felt impossibly tight at first. He was barely two inches in when he suddenly remembered they may have gotten a little too carried away, and birth control was the last thing on his mind. "Wait, is this all good? I mean, are you covered?". It was some form of torture having only his tip enveloped and pulsating, but there was no way he'd carry on further unless she gave him the heads up.

Sofia kissed him hungrily as his lips attached themselves to hers once more. She whimpered a bit when he pulled back, his tip barely breaking the surface of her folds. Sofia smiled and nodded her head, thankful that he hadn't gotten too caught up in the moment and had remembered to check in on protection. "Yeah, I'm on the pill," she whispered. Sofia attached her lips to his once more and kissed him feverishly as he completely entered inside of her. She moaned against his mouth and fisted at the sheet with one hand that she had dropped from his face, bucking her hips as she felt him inside of her. "Feels so good," she whispered against his lips with a grin.

Jordan Thank fuck that she had come prepared, or Jordan would've regretted every moment leading up to this where he didn't just grab a condom. Of course, he never imagined that this is where they'd be at the end of the night, so he was just grateful that Sofia had their backs. Wasting no more time, Jordan thrust himself inside her, burying his face into her neck momentarily as he relished how good it felt. She voiced his very thoughts, and he let out a single exhale of laughter at the understatement of the century. "Fuck, Sof. You can say that again". And it only got better as the male began to repeatedly thrust inside of her, his hand wandering underneath her tank top that he wished he'd have taken off sooner to tweak at her nipples and enjoy the feeling of her breast filling up the entirety of his large hand. "You are literally...so fucking gorgeous" he realized out loud, unable to keep the thought to himself though he probably should've.

Sofia “Feels so good,” she repeated in a whisper as he expressed that she could say that again. She felt his hand travel underneath her tank top and she gasped as his hand came in contact with her breast. “Just take it off,” she whispered, gesturing towards her tank top as she felt his hand massaging into her breast. Another loud moan escaped her lips as she whimpered, “Fuck... Jordy...” Her cheeks blushed as he spoke about how gorgeous she was, looking him in the eyes to see the look on his face as his eyes traveled across her body. She wanted to switch positions so she could pleasure him for a bit but she didn’t want to interrupt the magic he was currently working with his hands.

Jordan Not needing to be told twice, Jordan quickly pulled Sofia’s tank top over her head and resumed his hands work with his mouth, encasing her nipple between his lips and thrusting into her harder with every go now that she was getting more used to him. Hearing her say the cute nickname that she always called him in such a way now pleased him to no end, all he wanted was more and more to fall from her mouth, so he hooked her back over his shoulder once more, able to fill her completely from this angle. “Let me know if this hurts” he got out in a rushed breath, plunging into her fully, his hands lifting her hips off the bed ever so slightly.

Sofia A shiver went down her spine as he pulled her tank top off and took her nipple in his mouth. “Yes... oh, fuck... yes...” she moaned as he lifted her leg and continued his plunge. It had been so long since she had last felt like this and on top of that, she felt so safe in his arms. As his hands lifted her hips off the bed she arched her back up into him and tilted her neck back again. She was starting to feel close and she knew it would only be a few minutes longer before she completely came undone.

Jordan From her reaction, Jordan could tell he was doing something right, so he didn't stray from it for a while, eager to get her falling apart underneath him. He attempted to lean down and kiss her, but as his thrusts became harsher, he found it was too difficult keeping up with both. Instead, he placed a flat palm against the back wall and drove deeper and deeper, her moans only spurring him on. "Jesus, Sof. You feel amazing". He practically groaned, letting his head fall to rest against his outstretched arm, eyes closed as that familiar stirring sensation began in the pit of his stomach.

Sofia kissed him back feverishly again as he attempted to kiss her while still thrusting into her, but that clearly wasn't working and they could get back to that later after she had completely come undone. As he drove himself deeper and deeper inside of her she got louder and louder. She was Columbian, it was in her blood to make her voice heard and she knew it was turning him on. "You feel so good too," she mumbled, breathing heavily as his head rested against his outstretched arm. "I'm... so close..." she whimpered, bucking her hips upward against him as the pit of her stomach stirred.

Jordan paid no mind to the volume that they were creating within the hotel - the last thing on his mind right now was the comfort of whoever was in the room next to them. Hell, they should be honored to hear her moans anyway, Jordan certainly felt like it. Smiling down at her words, lust in his eyes as he caught her gaze, the male egged her on, reaching down to press on her clit and take her over the edge. "So let go. Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you trembling".

Sofia looked up at him, returning the same lust-filled gaze as he began to egg her on. When she felt him reach down to press on her clit she came completely undone, spilling out around him. Her legs trembled as she panted, her breathing was heavy as she looked up at him. "Your turn," she whispered breathlessly, unhooking her leg from his shoulder and flipping their positions with his help so that she was now on top of him. She gripped at his waist and began to ride him, leaning forward to leave a trail of kisses down from his chest to his bellybutton.

Jordan was sure he was about to spill out inside her thanks to the way her walls clenched around him tightly, and how she kept his gaze while she enjoyed the ends of her climax. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the fact he wanted to see her ride, and once they flipped themselves over, Jordan let out a low groan as his back hit the mattress and she towered above him. Not even two minutes later, Jordan was sure he couldn't hold it anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit down onto his bottom lip harshly, suddenly filling her in waves with every time she brought herself down upon him. By the end of it, he was breathless, but he still dragged her down to him to kiss her hungrily again, wanting to show how grateful he was at that moment.

Sofia could tell that he was going to come undone in just a couple of minutes, so she took her time riding him to give him something in return for all that he had done for her. She bit down on her lip as she felt him fall apart inside of her. She continued to ride him as he finished his own climax, keeping her eyes trained on him. When he had finished she let him pull her to his chest, kissing him feverishly again and moaning slightly against his lips. She pulled away just slightly, hovering over his lips as she whispered to him about how amazing he had felt and how good she was still feeling right now.

Jordan had forgotten all about the music channel in the background until there was nothing but their heavy breathing and that going off in the background. Either they had managed to drown the music out, or his attention really had honed in on only her. Keeping his arms wrapped lazily around the female's body, Jordan couldn’t help but smile and agree with her words. He had no idea how she was feeling about the situation now they had both come back to reality, and he didn’t want to put her in the awkward position of having to ask him to leave, so he brought up the topic before she could. “So are you the type of girl to kick a guy out of bed or are you down for me staying the night?” Obviously, he would prefer the latter. The time was getting on, and it would look more than suspicious for him to be creeping out of her hotel room, looking all disheveled in the middle of the night, but he also didn’t want her to feel obliged to house him for the evening. “It’s cool if you wanna get some good rest, we can still hang tomorrow if you want?”

Sofia rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him. She loved the way their arms were lazily tangled around each other's bodies. "I'm down for you staying the night," she replied with a smile, reaching her head up to press a quick kiss to his lips. "I definitely wouldn't mind falling asleep in your arms and waking up next to you," she mumbled with a coy smile, reaching over to grab his black t-shirt that had been thrown off in the midst of their makeout session and slipped it over her naked torso. The actress stood to put her panties back on, giving Jordan time to get his boxers back on and then slipped into the bathroom to splash some water on her face and get herself ready for bed. She couldn't believe their night was ending this way, but she had zero regrets about it. As she returned to the bed, she quickly found herself back in his strong arms, resting her head on his chest where she would soon fall asleep to the rise and fall of his chest with a smile plastered on her face.

#p001: are you ready for it?#it's a long one lol

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canyousevmyheavydirtysoul · 6 years

Text

Northern Downpour. (Ryan Ross x Reader)

Note: :)

Listen to- oh, who am I kidding? You all know what to do. ;)

‘Hey moon,

Found this little bistro a few blocks down from my apartment block. It’s really cute and homey – kinda like what you would be like, if you were a bistro.

That sounded weird, didn’t it?

I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this, as I’m sure you can tell. I hope my ineptness doesn’t scare you away – especially not before I’m able to take you out on a date. A real date. Not these Skype ones we’ve been having.

Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing your face in a freeze-frame during our crappily-connected video calls, but I’m certain that nothing will compare to seeing your beauty in person.

Did I mention that the bistro is Italian? I checked, and they have all of your favorites: lasagne, double-pepperoni pizza, triple-chocolate gelato… You’ll love it.

I know that I’ve said this perhaps a thousand times before, but lately, I’ve found myself thinking of this more and more – in fact, it's been all that has captured my thoughts for a long while now – I want to see you. In person, not through an insufferably small screen.

I want nothing more than to see you standing right in front of me. I know that it’s not the biggest of possibilities at the moment, but I have to keep reminding you of it.

Don’t think that all of these inconsequential barriers keeping us from being together will stop me from seeing you, because I assure you, moon, there is no force in the universe strong enough to keep us apart forever.

I will come for you.

If all our life is but a dream

Fantastic posing greed

Then we should feed our jewellery to the sea

For diamonds do appear to be

Just like broken glass to me

My heart, my soul, my life is yours,

Northern Downpour’

Ryan picked up the dried-out, pressed peony that was lying in wait on the desk next to the paper, and carefully slid it into the folds of the letter before placing the page into a faded yellow envelope.

He placed the piece of stationery safely inside the front pocket of his messenger bag before heading out the door; it reached you the next day, on the first of the month – just like all of his letters would.

The hasty manner in which you ripped open the envelope caused a laceration on the tip of your finger, but you paid no notice to the sharp sting as you swiftly removed the letter from the confines of the envelope.

Your heart fluttered as you unfolded the paper and saw the peony flurry out, your hand instinctively reaching out to catch it just like it had tens of times before.

Your eyes devoured his written words at lightning speed and before you knew it, you were sitting on the floor next to your wooden, paint-chipped coffee table, authoring your response.

‘Dearest Northern Downpour,

You should know by now that there’s no need to apologise for your adorably awkward mannerisms; I adore all of them. And I can only imagine that I would enjoy them even more if I were able to experience them in person.

The thought of seeing you has consumed my mind too. I want it more than anything in the world. Sadly, you know that it’s not possible, as heart-breaking as that is. A freelance writing job doesn’t exactly pay for the bills and an airplane ticket.

I’ve made lovely progress with my novel, though. So much so, that I’ve piqued the interest of an actual publisher, and I’m meeting with them next week. I’m counting on this to be my big break; I could use whatever they pay me to come and see you, and we can go on that date you were talking about.

You along with Italian food sounds like my perfect night.

How is your music coming along? Have you gotten any gigs yet? I miss hearing you sing to me; it was always the part of our video calls that I looked forward to the most. Try and get that laptop of yours fixed, won’t you? I miss seeing your beautiful face.

And those lyrics! Oh, they’re wonderful! I know that you’ve only sent me a few lines, but I have a strong sense that this is going to be my favourite song you’ve written so far.

I have no doubt in my mind that we will be together. Whether it be tomorrow, next month, next year, ten years from now… I know that we will eventually find one another.

And that thought is all that’s keeping me going.

Yours. Forever and always,

Moon’

‘Hey moon,

The sound of your beautiful voice – breathless and bursting with elation as you relayed the wonderful news to me – made me so dizzy with happiness that I had to sit down for a moment. I’d forgotten how much of a high hearing you speak gave me; nothing in the world could ever compare.

I’m tremendously proud of you, darling. You deserve this more than anyone. I know how many sleepless nights this book has given you, so to hear that it’s all going to be worth it is absolutely wonderful.

Things are looking up on my side too. Brendon said that he knows a guy (I think his name is Pete) that might be able to get us a gig, so that’s good. Granted, it won’t be at the most exalted of places, but it’s a start. We’re actually crafting the setlist at present; I took a bit of a time-out to write this letter.

And because it was a tad overwhelming.

I’m aware that us getting a gig is a huge deal – especially if there’s a chance we could get noticed – but I can’t help but feel anxious about it. What if I mess up? Forget the lyrics or play the wrong chords? I know that this is something I’ve been waiting for my whole life, but now that it’s actually going to happen, I feel…

To be completely honest, I don’t know how I feel. Nervous, concerned, sick, useless, all of the above…

But whatever it is, I need it to stop. I don’t want to screw up and let the guys down.

I don’t want to let you down.

And then she said she can’t believe

Genius only comes along

In storms of fabled foreign tongues

Tripping eyes, and flooded lungs

Northern Downpour sends its love

Hey moon, please forget to fall down

Hey moon, don’t you go down

Sugarcane in the easy morning

Weather-vanes my one and lonely

My heart, my soul, my life is yours,

Northern Downpour’

Whatever interest you had developed in your friends’ conversation vanished instantaneously when you spotted the mailman walking the front path of your faded-brick duplex.

Your nearly empty coffee mug clanged as it was dropped onto the counter-top, catching both of the other girls’ attention. (Y/B/F) was about to question your sudden lack of grip on the piece of crockery, but once she saw you sprinting out the front door and to the mailbox, a knowing smile played on her lips.

Your other friend was not as enlightened, and she furrowed her brows. “What was that about?”

“Today’s the first,” (Y/B/F) smirked, taking a sip from her mug and pulling a smug face as you re-entered the room, “which means that she got a letter from loverboy. What’s he say?” she jerked her head at you.

Ignoring her comment, you practically ripped the pale envelope open, eager to get to the piece of Ryan’s thoughts that was inside. Per ritual, you stuck your hand out and caught the peony, clutching it to your chest as you began to read the letter.

Barely two minutes later, you were penning your response.

‘Dearest Northern Downpour,

Don’t you ever, ever, in a million years think that you could disappoint me – it’s just not possible. My love, I am so terrifically proud of you and everything that you do – everything that you create – because it’s all unconditionally magical. You have a gift, and an extraordinary one at that, to craft masterpieces that are able to evoke emotions in people that they didn’t even know they had. You’re a true genius, and I don’t want you to ever doubt yourself the way that you are right now.

As for the guys… I know that they feel the same way. They respect what you do. They adore what you do. And I know that they are exceptionally grateful to have you.

As am I.

You’ve made my world so much brighter and wonderful just by allowing me to know you, and the fact that I’m privileged enough to be able to call you mine makes me wake up with a huge smile on my face every morning.

To hear you degrade yourself like that breaks my heart. Honestly. I wish that you were with me right now so that I could smack some sense into you.

You’re utterly remarkable, Ryan. Don’t ever think otherwise.

So you’re going to go to that gig, you’re going to get up on that stage, and you’re going to make everyone fall in love with you through your music.

I believe in you, my love. Stay strong.

Yours. Forever and always,

Moon’

You’d been so immersed in your writing that you had momentarily forgotten about the presence of your two friends, reminded of it only when one of them spoke up.

“How long have you been together for, again?”

“Almost a year,” you sighed with a small smile, gently folding the paper up.

“And you haven’t seen each other in person yet?”

“Nope.”

She grimaced. “Have you said ‘I love you’?”

“No,” you said softly, retrieving a travel bottle of your perfume from the desk drawer, “No, we haven’t.”

Everything around him melted into a noisy haze as he stood backstage, guitar slung around his neck as his eyes scanned the page he held in his hand, re-reading the words for what must have been the thousandth time.

Once his pupils had swiped over your signature, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath – both to calm himself down and to inhale the faint scent of your perfume. The fragrance would’ve usually been more potent, but his constant handling of the fragile paper watered it down.

“Two minutes, Ry,” Brendon announced, nudging his friend in the shoulder.

After one last glance over the words on the paper, Ryan folded it up and placed it in the breast pocket of his jacket – right over his heart.

‘Hey moon,

I played that gig today. God, I was so nervous; I almost didn’t go through with it. The only thing that got me up on that stage was your words from the last letter. If it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve chickened out.

That being said – I need you to be at the next show. The image of your words on paper was enough to keep me going for tonight, but I’m not sure if that will be the case next time. I need you to be here with me. I need to be able to hold you before I go on stage, I need to hear you whisper that it’s all going to be okay, I need to feel your lips on mine as a silent reassurance…

I just need you.

Kinda weird, isn’t it? The fact that I need someone so badly, but I haven’t even met them yet. I have no idea how that works; all I know is that if I don’t see you soon, I’m going to go insane.

The ink is running towards the page

It’s chasing off the days

Look back at both feet

And that winding knee

I missed your skin when you were east

You clicked your heels and wished for me

Through playful lips made of yarn

That fragile Capricorn

Unravelled words like moths upon old scarves

I know the worlds a broken bone

But melt your headaches, call it home

My heart, my soul, my life is yours,

Northern Downpour’

‘Dearest Northern Downpour,

I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am. You did it. I knew you could do it.

Just goes to show that I’m always right.

You know how much I love listening to you sing, and you know that if I could be there for you at every show, every gig that you play, no matter how big or small, I would. But I can’t right now. Believe me, it’s tearing me apart to not be able to be with you in the way that we both so desperately want. Ache for.

They say that money can’t buy happiness, but you are the thing that makes me most happy, and yet money is the only thing keeping me from you.

Cruel, isn’t it? That a couple hundred dollars is all that’s separating us.

I cried today. It wasn’t intentional; I didn’t mean to. I just thought of what it would be like to actually, physically be with you and I got a little bit too emotional.

There’s not much going on with me, otherwise. My book is still being edited – they said it could take up to another five months to finish. But I’m working on another story in the meantime, about long-distance relationships. Bet you’ll never guess where I got the inspiration for that.

Until next time, my love.

Yours. Forever and always,

Moon’

Ryan had just about finished reading your letter when the rest of the band barged into his room, panting and out of breath from running but wearing the biggest smiles on their faces. Ryan leaned backwards out of fear.

“What-“

“DUDE, WE WON!”

“Uh, what?” Ryan shook his head, utterly perplexed. “We won? Won what? I don’t remember entering anything.”

“That show we played the other night,” Brendon explained, rushing over to take a seat on the bed as the other two followed him, “Turns out it was actually a competition! They had undercover judges scoring all the bands that played that week in secret, and we came out on top!” Brendon let out a short, triumphant laugh as he threw his hands up in the air.

“Oh wow,” Ryan widened his eyes, looking at each of his bandmates in turn, “that’s awesome. Well done, boys.”

“But wait,” Spencer held up a finger, “there’s more. Tell him, Bren.”

“We made two thousand dollars, baby!” He exclaimed, practically jumping with joy. “That’s five hundred for each of us. Annnnnd, we get to go to the studio with Fall Out Boy and make our own demo!”

Ryan’s jaw dropped to the floor. “You’re kidding,” he chuckled before frowning and turning to the other two, jutting a thumb at Brendon, “He’s kidding, right?”

When no one supported his claim – just stared at him, smiling like idiots – Ryan let out an incredulous laugh before rushing to stand up.

“Did they give the prize money in cash?”

Spencer nodded.

“Good. Cause I’m gonna need my share.”

You stood still as a statue as you stared out the window, boring a hole into the mailbox with the intensity your gaze held. Your eyes flicked over to the clock hanging next to you on the wall, and you continued biting the sides of your fingers raw as you acknowledged the time.

The mailman was two hours late, and today was the first, which meant that every second that ticked by was torturous to you. You knew that sometimes things happen, and there could’ve been numerous reasons as to why the mailman was late, but that fact did nothing to ease your anxiety.

You were worried that something was wrong. That Ryan’s letter either didn’t make it to you this time, or that – God forbid – he hadn’t written one at all. It was a totally irrational thought, but it was present nonetheless.

After another thirty minutes or so of waiting, your nerves couldn’t take it anymore and you started out the door and to the mailbox, silently hoping and praying that the mailman had happened to do his deliveries early today.

Your hopes were soon shattered, however, when you opened the hatch and were met by sweet nothingness. The pain resounding in your chest could only be compared to taking a bullet to the heart; it hurt like a bitch.

Slowly and regretfully, you closed the hatch, trying your hardest to contain the emotions coursing through you. Said emotions were so powerful, in fact, that you hadn’t noticed the presence of someone behind you until they spoke.

“Hey moon.”

Your entire body stiffened as a gasp escaped your lips and goosebumps formed all along your skin. You knew that voice. You’d know that voice anywhere. Even when sounding from the deepest, darkest void of the universe, you would recognise that voice.

And you would run to it.

You almost gave yourself whiplash with how fast you turned around, but the sight before you was well worth it. There, standing right in front you, looking as adorably awkward as ever as he held a bouquet of peonies and a faded yellow envelope, was Ryan Ross.

Neither of you could repress the enormous grins on your faces, nor could you stop the tears from spilling over. You wanted to move, or say something, but you couldn’t. Fortunately, Ryan did it for you.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I felt the need to hand-deliver this one,” he explained, holding out the envelope to you; you gripped it with shaky hands, “I think it’s the best one I’ve written so far.”

Tearing the envelope open, you retrieved the piece of paper and unfolded it to reveal three little words.

‘I love you’

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Taglist:

@darknessdancing

@raversam

@username-number-01834

@moosesmoose

@underscoredarcy

#valentine’s day #Ryan ross #Ryan ross x reader #patd #p!atd #panic at the disco #panic! at the disco #emo #music #band #bands #band members #emo trinity #emo quartet #band member imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfic

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nerdy-bits · 3 years

Text

Letting My Mind Drift

My family has always been enamored by cars and motorcycles. For a long time that fascination focused on motorcycles exclusively. My uncle bought a harley, which led my grandparents to buy a Harley and Royal Enfield (grandpa and grandma), which led me to buy a Suzuki V-Strom. This was complemented by friends buying yet another Harley, a Kawaski Vulcan, and a Yamaha F-07. Motorcycling controlled our get-togethers for more than 4 years. Eventually the moto-fever faded, but not before it made a lasting impact in our lives. We watched motorcycle documentaries like Why We Ride, shows like The Long Way Down and The Long Way Round, and fell in love with small market makers like Shinya Kimura and even Keeanu Reeves’ Arch Motorcycle Company. In the height of this fascination we also fell in love with BBC’s Top Gear.

As motorcycles transitioned out of our main means of transportation the love remained, but a growing interest in automotives began to seep into the cracks. Top Gear was always on repeat in the Sawyer household. As comes with watching a show this closely, we began to think and even jokingly speak as hosts Jeremy Clarkson, James May, and Richard Hammond when we saw cars. Now, years after the Top Gear fallout, The Grand Tour is making its way into our sphere of conversation. But it isn’t alone.

I have always dabbled in driving games. I have fond memories of winning a few races in Gran Tourismo well before I was old enough to understand the ins and outs of tuning an automobile for the track. I remember outrunning the cops in Need for Speed Hot Pursuit. Street races in Midnight Club, drag races for pink slips in Blur (I think?), drifting in Need for Speed Underground. I have fond memories of specific moments of car games, but very few of those same games have kept my attention for very long.

I tend to attribute this attention deficit to the same reason I don’t really play fighting games. I tend to play my games for the story, diving headlong into narrative adventure, strategy, or roleplaying games. I can play XCOM, Mass Effect, or God of War for days. I find the simplicity, or lack of implicit depth, a bit of a turn off. That’s not me saying those games don’t have depth. I love watching EVO tournaments and enjoy duking it out with friends on occasion, but the learning curve to skill in those games is often steeper than I have patience for, given the fact those games tend to be just that: learning the core mechanics of the fighting and perfecting that knowledge.

I loved to hop into a few races, trade some paint, slide out a slick drift, and grab some air, but I rarely stuck around to perfect any of those skills.

Fast forward to Forza Motorsport 4 and 5. If there is a better example of dipping your towns into something, I’m not sure I know it. I specifically remember jumping in with Ryan (@sergeantsodium) on one specific occasion and attempting to drift. I failed miserably. Then, as if to rub salt in my wounds, Ryan had me pull my vehicle about twelve feet from the wall and proceeded to drift the entire bend leading to my position, and weave his car neatly between my own car and the wall at a cool 50-60mph. It was a marvel to behold. It was also my signal to log off of the game, not come back for weeks, and trade the game to GameStop a month or so later.

Then three things happened: Forza Horizon 4 came out. I learned that my control scheme wasn’t conducive to what I was wanting to do. 2020 happened.

Let's break that down. Forza Horizon 4 came out in 2018 to great reviews. What’s better, it was on Game Pass, so I had no reason not to at least try it. The opening moments were like an IV drip of endorphins. A shot glass full of joy. The music, the changing of seasons showcasing their weather systems, the production, the cars, the visuals. It was an all out assault on the senses.

About a year after that first experience, after again watching Ryan drift an entire roundabout, weaving in and out of traffic without missing a shift or beat, we joined a session together with the express goal of teaching me to drift. In moments I learned that a) I was doing it all wrong, and that b) my settings were also getting in the way. Traction Control off, ABS off, manual shifting on, in moments I felt like a new person.

Then 2020 happened and all of the outdoors interaction in most people’s lives came to a grinding halt. No more bike nights at Schlafly Bottleworks, no more long road trips, nothing. Sometime around May I found my way back into Forza Horizon 4. Sometime around May I found my niche.

Having learned the tricks to drifting, all that remained was perfecting the use of those skills. So i took to the tarmac with my Ford Focus hatchback, a car I actually owned at the time, and began working out the kinks of letting the rear end slide out, handbrake turns, feathering the gas, up and downshifting, using gravity, and nailing the perfect run of drifts. Strangely, a process that once turned me away, turned out to be exactly what I was looking for. It was simple and complex, bundled into one. It was almost zen like at times. The music in my headphones pulsing, the engine roaring under the hood, the snap-crack of the exhaust, the screech of tires. While grinding out the skill of drifting, I began to let my mind, like my car, drift.

Drifting became an escape and car building became an obsession. I would log into Horizon and skim through the car catalogue looking for cars that piqued my interest. Turns out I have a type. Retro and boxy-body, or modern import tuners. I have an ‘80 Abarth Fiat 131 (typically a rally car), a slick ‘81 Volkswagen Scirocco S, an absolutely sharp ‘69 Nissan Fairlady Z 432, a ‘97 Mazda RX-7, a Hoonigan inspired ‘73 AMC Gemlin X, a rip-roaring ‘69 Chevy Nova Super Sport 396, an 81’ Ford Fiesta XR2, and - to keep this list short, ha - a spritely ‘74 Honda Civic RS. You’ll see I left out my ‘17 Focus RS. Honestly, though it started the craze, it is far from the top of my priority list.

Each of these cars I have learned extensively, though I shy away from saying I’ve learned them inside and out. Each has its little quirk, be it powering through longform extended bends or nimbly sliding through tight switchbacks. But still, each feels like a piece of art I built, and each rev, gear shift, and spinout builds my knowledge, banshee shrieking through the streets of Edinburgh, sliding the rain slick streets of Lakehurst Forest, or ripping up and down the rolling switches in Derwent Valley.

When riding a motorcycle there is a moment where your conscious brain, focused on the road and balance, recedes into unconsciousness, allowing your normally subconscious thoughts to creep to the front. You think of abstracts: color, sound, smell, feel. The taste of the rain, the spidering cracks in the concrete beneath you. Forza Horizon 4 has granted a return to a form of that process for me. As the controller rumbles and vibrates in my hands I feel the tires slip out, the engine scream for air, the exhaust bark in protest. My mind drifts into a less stressful place, focused instead on the power I lend the engine, the grip of my tires, the sound of my tachometer redlining out of a turn. My mind imagines the smells of fall leaves, spring showers, summer concrete, and terpene-hinted snow.

And then there is rally. Like drifting, a whole skill unto itself demanding practice. The brief silence as you catch air, a pensive pause, the slam of the suspension when gravity pulls me back down, the crash of water. Feeling the rocks and gravel tumbling beneath my wheels is a new sensation. My ‘82 Lancia 037 Stradale is bucking for more.

@LubWub ~Caleb

#racing #forza #driving games #sport games #forza horizon 4 #drifting #rally #nerdybits #article #readable

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dnds · 7 years

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skeptics and true believers

The hot new kid that frustrates Ryan on a daily basis may or may not be a werewolf.

Ryan Bergara is in his junior year and president of Buzzfeed High School's supernatural club; Shane Madej is the new kid that's started showing up to meetings only to shit on Ryan's belief in the paranormal. Normally, he would be annoyed with such a skeptical asshole-- except, said asshole is also really fucking attractive, leading to a weird mixture of frustration and attraction Ryan has no idea how to deal with.

Then Ryan notes that there's one subject that Shane doesn't have anything to say about: werewolves. His discomfort at the mention of the subject and consistent absences on full moons is more than enough to pique Ryan's curiosity. Whatever's going on, Ryan is going to get to the bottom of it...even if it kills him.

a/n: hey it’s ya boy, greer, being disgusting garbage trash and writing some shyan fic. it’s my first real attempt at an ongoing story woo.

i would really, really appreciate reblogs if you enjoy the story!

[AO3] [Wattpad]

A typical meeting of the supernatural club consisted of Ryan presenting evidence of ghosts to Brent and Safiya, one of the two of them immediately getting off topic, and the group talking about something unrelated to the paranormal for an hour. As he entered Mr. Peretti's history classroom, Ryan figured that this meeting would be no different.

It began as any other meeting would:

"Okay," Ryan announced to Brent and Saf, who were sitting at the front of the classroom, "Fucking demons, you guys. They scare the shit out of me." Saf laughed, and Ryan hopped up on a desk.

"You guys have seen The Exorcist, right? It was based on a real story of a girl named Anneliese Michel--"

"I'm pretty sure she was mentally ill, not possessed" Ever the anxious guy, Ryan jumped at the door to the classroom clicking open behind him. He turned to see a scruffy skyscraper in tennis shoes coming into the classroom. Skyscraper smiled and waved, "Hey, I'm Shane. Paranormal stuff is BS."

Ryan blinked. Okay, so today will be an unusual meeting. He glanced over at Brent and Saf, who seemed to be less surprised than he was.

Brent tilted his head. "Don't I have algebra with you?"

Ryan almost felt offended. Were neither of them going to defend their honor? This guy can't just walk in here and call everything bullshit; Ryan glared at Brent, before shifting it over to Shane.

"If you think it's bullshit, why are you here?" Ryan crossed his arms and frowned. Shane came over to where the group was sitting-- holy shit, he was really tall. And... kind of attractive. Ryan quickly averted his eyes to the floor; now is not the time to be gay, Ryan, he thought to himself as a blush creeped over his face.

Shane shrugged. "I was bored and figured that someone needed to be rational in your ghostbusters echo chamber." He slid into one of the desks and leaned back with a pen in his hand, "So, gang, we're talking about the Exorcist today?" Ryan wanted to hit him in his smug (and now that he was paying more attention to it, cute) face.

He wheezed angrily. "Wh- You- Ghostbusters echo chamber?!" Who did this guy think he was?!, "You're honestly only coming into this club to say that you don't believe in the tens of thousands of examples of ghosts and demons being real? That's ridiculous. You're ridiculous."

"Not as ridiculous as someone who believes tens of thousands of examples of inconclusive and unprovable evidence," Shane leaned forward on his hand and smiled a small smile Ryan could only describe as mocking.

"Inconclusive?!" Ryan was infuriated, "How can you tell me thousands of different people seeing and documenting their experiences with ghosts is inconclusive?"

"Can you prove any of them even happened in the first place?"

Ryan was going to flip the fucking table. A part of him briefly wondered why he was getting so flustered, but that thought was quickly overshadowed by the part of him that just wanted to prove this pompous asshole wrong.

"You actually think that every single person who has ever seen a ghost has been lying? Or that any supernatural voice recording has been falsified?"

"I think that the people who believe in ghosts will convince themselves of it no matter how much of a stretch the 'evidence'--" He actually did the quotes thing with his hands,what a dick," -- A vague noise is turned into a voice. A shadow is turned into a person. They're not necessarily lying, just reaching."

Ryan's furious sputtering was cut off by the bell, which signaled to the kids still in the building that they were being kicked out. Ryan closed his mouth into a hard line, and pointed at Shane, who was picking his bag up.

"I'm going to prove to you ghosts exist, I swear," Ryan said with a determined gleam in his eyes, grabbing his bag off of the desk. Brent and Saf, who had been watching the bickering in a stunned silence, had taken to chatting amongst themselves as they gathered their belongings. Probably about how serious Ryan was being about this whole thing. He didn't care.

Shane laughed, and Ryan's face, which he was sure was already pretty red due to how nonplussed he had gotten, was probably turning a bright shade of cherry red. Being flustered was one thing, but being flustered by a really hot guy was another. He avoided eye contact as his skin flushed.

Brent and Saf migrated towards the door, but Ryan and Shane stayed behind for a moment.Ryan narrowed his eyes at the other man.

"You really don't believe in anything paranormal?" He asked skeptically.

"Depends on what you define as paranormal." Shane shrugged and Ryan furrowed his brows, wondering what on earth that meant.

"You know, ghosts, demons, vampires, werewolves, witches, etc." Briefly, a note of something Ryan wasn't sure of passed over Shane's face. Uncertainty? Hesitation? ... Fear?

"No, no, no, and, no." Something had shifted about Shane. His posture had gone from loose and carefree, with his long limbs leaning casually on the desk, to more closed off and defensive. "It's all bullshit." His tone was curt.

Ryan was perplexed by the sudden mood change. Had he said something wrong? He opened his mouth to ask, but was cut-off.

"Hey Ry," Brent had walked back over to where he and Shane stood, "I was gonna go back to mine and play some video games or... something..." He trailed off, picking up on the odd tension.

"Sounds good to me," He thought about asking if Shane could join them, but when Ryan glanced back to where the taller man was standing, he saw Shane had grabbed his bag and was heading out the door.

"See you guys later," Shane mumbled before promptly exiting into the hallway. Ryan blinked, trying to understand what had just happened. Shane had been fine until Ryan had mentioned... something. He looked at Brent, to see if he understanded what had just happened any better, but all he got was a half-hearted shrug.

"Maybe he just remembered that he had left his oven on or something," Brent offered jokingly, but Ryan couldn't help but feel saddened. Despite him being frustrating, debating with Shane had been fun (not even mentioning how attractive he was), and Ryan really hoped he hadn't just ruined a potential friendship (or something more).

"Let's bounce," Brent said, walking out the door. With a sigh, Ryan followed, taking a moment to look up and down the hallway before accompanying Brent to the parking lot of the school.

Shane was long gone.

The streets were empty as Ryan walked home from Brent's house, the almost-full moon casting light in his path. The autumn air was crisp and a slight breeze had begun around sunset; he shivered, despite the night being slightly cold at worst.

Ryan couldn't help but feel like he was being watched.

He shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets and tried not to whip his head around like a paranoid maniac. Every part of his body screamed that he was being followed by somebody, something. He abruptly stopped on the sidewalk to take a breath and run his hands down his face in an attempt to calm his nerves.

Something rustled in the patch of woods next to the sidewalk, and Ryan's head snapped towards the sudden noise. He creeped towards the thicket, a group of trees attached to the wide expanse of Pacific Northwest forest. He figured it was just a deer, or a rabbit, but... he had to see. It would calm his anxiety.

Another rustle, and Ryan saw the source. Or at least, he saw the source's unnaturally bright yellow eyes staring him dead in the face.

Ryan yelped and scrambled backwards, before breaking into a run towards his front door. He stopped to heave air in and out of his lungs, before collapsing on his front porch steps. What the-- what the fuck was that?! Before he could even try and guess, the front door creaked open, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. His mother looked out at him with a worried expression.

"Are you okay, Ryan?" She asked, obviously concerned, and Ryan nodded feverishly before standing up.

"Fine. Fantastic," He said, his voice sounding about an octave higher than normal.His mother furrowed her brow in disbelief.

"...Okay, well, come inside soon. It's getting cold." His mother cast him one more doubtful look, before shrugging and receding back inside.

Ryan didn't know what he had just seen in the woods, but... filled with sudden determination, he decided he was going to find out.

#buzzfeed unsolved #shyan #skeptic believer #shane madej #ryan bergara #im! garbage!#my writing

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find-your-rp-partner · 7 years

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apocalypses and heroes and ice skates, oh my!

hello hello my baby hello my honey hello my ragtime gal!

hey how are ya my name is emmy and i’m here to search for a new rp partner. a bit about me, i’m 21, canadian, about to start a summer job before returning to college, and i go by she/her pronouns. i reside in the mountain timezone and i am thrilled to hopefully start writing with you.

why should you write with me? because i promise that if i pick up an rp with you i’m gonna put 100 and 10 percent of my effort into our story. i’m looking for a long term typa gig, someone who i can really weave a plot with, someone who digs the cut of my jib. i want us to be able to sob over our characters together late into the night. i want us to exchange songs, playlists, posts found on the internet, aesthetic boards, whatever reminds us of our characters/our plot. i want us to go through our character’s struggles together as well as be able to cheer together when our characters get ahold of their sitch and come up on top. i want us to inspire one another with our writing. it’s gonna be great. you & me honey.

gee, that sounds nice! i’m inclined to agree with ya! but a few things you should know before you go any further: i write anywhere between full lit to lit + to novella style, so expect posts of at least 4 - 6 paragraphs baseline. sometimes i crank out 10. or 20. depends entirely on what’s going on. i write according to situation, with a great amount of detail spent on what my character is thinking/feeling in response to yours. the replies you get will be fully fleshed out & enthralling. i am a stickler for grammar and spelling, though nobody’s perfect, i do occasionally have my slipups. all lowercase text is strictly kept to ooc communication. i will never pressure you into posting or writing ridiculous amounts just to match my post. i want you to have fun too, ya hear? if i’ve had a bit to drink or am about to hit the hay, i’ll wait to post when i can give my post my full attention. usually i’ll be able to post at least once a day, sometimes multiple times a day if we’re in the same or a similar time zone. i also totally understand life happens and sometimes we just need a breather. ♥ i have bipolar depression, and sometimes my depression kicks my ass, but i’ll let you know when that happens.

oh goodness, what else? i write predominantly m/m pairings but i am open to m/f and f/f as well. i do not write high fantasy settings, sorry doll. my interests mostly align with modern day, slice of life kinda stuff, aside from the fandoms i do have. i don’t have many limits besides excessive gore, scat, mpreg, and writing smut for sake of smut. i love my romance just like anyone else does, but it’s got to have plot. our characters have to have chemistry or else i get bored. i haven’t doubled before but i think i’d be down with the right plot. usually i prefer that we play one character each, or we play multiple characters within a plot, but not usually more than one plot at the same time. but!!! i am totally willing to try new things!! just be patient with me as i learn m'kay? also most of my characters are pretty kinky but like, i prefer that we talk about kinks and limits one on one as opposed to airing out my character’s laundry. also- i wanna be your friend ooc. let’s chat. i find it’s so much easier to have muse and post if i enjoy the virtual company of the people i’m writing with.

ok but what do you write?

what *don’t* i write? kidding. here’s a bit of fandom for ya. if i’ve got plots listed, they’re the ideas i have, but i’m totally open to yours as well. stars denote how much i’m craving them. i’ll list the canon characters i write after i list the fandom:

fallout: new vegas & 4: arcade gannon & elder maxson, paladin danse - also got a ton of ocs for both *plot for fallout 4 a: we explore the cut ending to the brotherhood of steel questline, wherein the sole survivor and paladin danse refuse maxson’s final orders for danse, and fight for danse to become the leader of the brotherhood of steel. would likely require you playing maxon or danse and me playing the other, with one of us playing the sole survivor. *plot for fallout 4 b: your/my oc is a double agent for the railroad, with the mission to infiltrate the brotherhood of steel and send intelligence back to the agents back at home base. your/my oc becomes unexpectedly attached to elder maxson through work and circumstance. eventually, your/my oc must make a choice of where their allegiance lies: within the arms of arthur or with the faction they are fighting for. (potentially, we could double and do plot a & b at the same time.)

mafia 2: vito scaletta ***plot for mafia 2 a: we explore the dynamics of a relationship between vito and your oc. your oc could be in a position of great risk- think outside of the mafia, possibly a police officer, prostitute. some position where power dynamics could be played with. if the pairing is m/m we also deal with the themes of internalized homophobia and coming to terms with one’s identity.

*bioshock 1, 2 & infinite: brigid tenbenbaum, andrew ryan, frank frontaine & eleanor lamb, sofia lamb & booker dewitt

**marvel cinematic universe: tony stark, steve rogers

**greater marvel universe: logan howlett, carol danvers

***the office: pam beesly, angela martin

but honestly where my heart lies is within oc rp. here are a few plots i have of mine, stars denote how much i’m craving them:

**(m/m) power & politics: my oc is a prestigious state senator, who lives a double life. he is currently in the closet with no intent on leaving it anytime soon. however, a certain someone falls into his life, making him question what he thought he knew for certain. your oc breaks down the walls my oc has put up and changes him into a softer, better man. however, with an upcoming presidential campaign on the horizon for my oc, the limits of the secret relationship will be pushed and pulled beyond what both parties have ‘signed up for.'

****(m/m) the guardian: your oc is a newcomer to the nhl but is quickly making waves- think connor mcdavid style. he’s young and impressive, but mostly, impressionable. he starts to get battered around by both his teammates and opposing teams. after a few hard hits and fowl play within the game that have cost your oc bench and recovery time, the team’s coach calls in reinforcements to boost the team’s morale and serve as a protector to your oc. my oc is a winger who hasn’t got the talent part but has got a huge heart. not to mention… huge hands. good for makin’ fists. good for fightin’. my oc protects your oc during the games, coming to your oc’s aid, picking fights for your oc and protecting him on the ice. as such, the two wingers grow attached to one another.. perhaps too attached for the coach to be comfortable with. possibilities for a love triangle and other complications, for sure.

***(m/m or m/f) two worlds: your oc is a figure skater. my oc is a goaltender. both happen to share practice/warm-up ice and, in my oc’s effort to show off and win your oc over, he injures himself. one awkward trip to the er later, while under the influence of a huge amount of morphine, my oc admits his attempted double axel was prompted by the simple thought of how cute your oc is. this plot starts simple but compounds, with the two struggling with their careers and seeing one another, as well as my oc’s battle with alcoholism & painkiller addiction within the nhl.

***(m/m) too good to be true: our ocs start out in the whl, both as promising wingers. their good chemistry is vital to bringing back their team’s success. however, one of our ocs starts to get too attached to the other, and when an nhl draft separates them, one of our ocs is all too eager to cut contact and try to forget. the two excel in their nhl careers without one another, and end up on nhl teams with a history of deep rivalry. occasionally, the gloves hit the ice, fueled by the tension of unresolved feelings and the pressure of the respective teams to keep up the rivalry. the two are reunited when they are both chosen to play nationally for the same team, and are forced to reconcile what they have both buried so deeply within them.

***(m/m) big money: these two ocs play for rival teams in the nhl. while their teams have a history of tension, our two ocs take it to the next level. audiences are more excited to watch these two fight than they are to watch the game itself. there’s a market in the violence between these two, and a reputation to maintain on both ends. if the public found out that these two were secretly seeing one another, their careers would both be over.

i recognize that a lot of these focus on the nhl/the lives of professional hockey players- please don’t be worried about hockey knowledge/nhl jargon/whatever else goes through your head! i’m more interested in sport as a realm for drama than i am for following the rulebook and being 100% accurate to life when it comes to hockey. there’s a lot i don’t know and am still needing to learn, myself! as for general oc ideas, here’s a list:

professor x student

veteran x civillian

cop x criminal

street racing, fast-and-furious-esque setting

rival gangs

nhl/hockey based (lol obviously)

small town canadiana or americana

fun, fluffy romance based modern settings

darker themes such as addiction, abuse, etc

historical setting- preferably, the second world war/1940s-1960s

honestly whatever you can pitch to me that isn’t high fantasy ☺

hell yeah let’s do this pal

if any, and i mean any, of this piqued your fancy, pleaaaase shoot me an email at

↳ [email protected] !

i will respond! but please send me something thoughtful! i’d like to hear what part of my ad that you’re interested in/why you chose to contact me. i am willing to rp over email or over skype. just let me know. i’d like to email back and forth a little bit before we get right into it & before i give out my skype. i am totally down to chat via google hangouts, i prefer it, but i'll use skype too. i want to get to know ya! i sure look forward to hearing from you! ✌ & ♥ emmy

#rp partner search #rp partner ad #rp ad #rp search #fandom #original #marvel #mcu #videogame #email #skype #submission

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zachwinthrop · 7 years

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@alexandraburton-x

profligate syllables poured into diamond – adorned ears, palatial sepals corkscrewing into a mouth – watering simper as he urged her closer. ❝ that sounds tempting, but i’m not entirely sure the world is prepared for your sex tape debut. we’ll save that scandal for another day. ❞ the S C R U M P T I O U S bravura had been made available for his consumption, alexandra credulously overlooking the cloud of inebriated ( s o u l s ) that massed around them. she was drunk, but she couldn’t pin the blame upon any adeptly crafted elixir – she was intoxicated by the spotlight he’d provided her, indulging in her presence like the plump, ivory lines of cocaine he’d ingested as if she was all the H I G H he required. the possibility of her visage decorating the pages of hollywood’s gossip blogs hadn’t been even a glimmer in her thoughts, rather they were enraptured with ( r e s i s t a n c e ), attempting not to sweep him away into a desolate corner for a parisian reduplication. as his tongue rolled against the prurient swells of her neck, alex suspired softly; dark chocolate tresses floating behind her shoulders. his head tipped to her bust, swilling the tequila with repose before completing his performance tempting her lips with his as he removed the wedge of lime. she laughed, smoothing her fingers across the swell of her chest to remove the tacky remnants of the liquor. ryan’s remark resonated within her – it was like 2014, but there was something D I S P A R A T E about it. maybe it was because they were genuinely happy – a lightness devouring the air, but only for a moment before its tonnage amplified and came crashing down on their shoulders like shards of broken glass. ( f a i t h ) emerged from the deluge of bodies and for some particular, perverse reason, alexandra offered her a wicked grin. so this it what it feels like to be on the other side. for once, it wasn’t her that abolished his fun. & if it was a spectacle she desired, the fiendish brunette would happily deliver. ❝ the lounge, ❞ she spoke over top of her, knitting impeccably groomed brows as she glimpsed toward zach. ❝ she was there that night? hm, ❞ she continued with a gentle purse of her lips before diverting her attention to his addled girlfriend. ❝ i must have missed that detail. ❞ ale’s gilded halos piqued, however, when presented with what she presumed was meant to be rhetorical question. she became S T A R L E S S, situating herself comfortably upon the booth before gently clearing her throat. ❝ i would be happy to enlighten you on that very E X A C T moment, ( h o p e ). you see, i was out this afternoon when i stumbled upon this dress, ❞ she insisted, careening her head to appraise her ensemble. alex tucked her fingers beneath her breasts, pleased with their appearance. ❝ and i just had to try it on. it looked absolutely incredible. my ass looked phenomenal & i had legs for days, ❞ she boasted, returning her gaze to faith. ❝ and i thought to myself, oh my god. you know who would appreciate this dress? zach would. and wearing it to his birthday party was too good of an occasion to pass up. the best part is, i was right. he hasn’t been able to keep his hands or his eyes off me this entire time. i had no idea you were here. i’m sorry that i totally forgot about your existence, but it looks like zach owes you an apology as well, because it seems he forgot too. ❞ ale lowered her stygian tinctures, her lips twitching as she concluded, ❝ i get it. it’s got to be difficult being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. and i don’t blame you for being so bitter, but please, take it from someone who knows him better than anyone else – he moves fast. you’ve gotta keep your eye on him. ❞

zachariah had diminished to the bare ( b o n e s ) of himself; liquor and narcotics peeling back layer after layer until all that remained was a debauched, raucous REPROBATE of a creature sprawled upon a lounge seat as though there were no other bodies to accommodate for. a snort urged from his throat, rippling raw sepals. he leered to ryan, nudging him. ❝ did she just call her hope? ❞ a deriding wheeze emitted from his chest. he fell over himself, head approaching his knees, laughing carelessly as though he wasn’t teetering at the hilt of a very dangerous cliff; his career and reputation awaiting to obliterate at the bottom. he listened, ( as best he could ), to alexandra’s comandeering monologue, dripping from her tongue like a poison syrup. ryan whispered to him: ❝ is this like, really bad? or is it really bad? ❞ zach’s palm boisterously walloped ryan’s chest. ❝ noooo. ❞ he shook his head, palms urging into leather to right his spine. faith’s jaw slackened, eyeliner - ringed sapphires glinting helplessly. ❝ who the FUCK do you think you are? ❞ several spectators arced inward, tightening the circle herding the expensive huddle at the centre. ❝ aren’t you embarrassed, being a side - piece? why are you throwing that in my face like it’s something to be proud of? nobody knows who you are. this is - this is pathetic. ❞ she held her hands out either side of her head like a forfeit, a white flag. she looked to zach; desperate, lashed and bleeding. misted eyes focus dizzily upon her. ❝ zach?! ❞ her voice was shrill, pleading with him to say something. to jump to her rescue and save her from the public humiliation she was drowning in. ryan nudged him. ❝ what? ❞ zach droned, erecting his posture. he laughed, eyes flitting between bystanders. ❝ what?! ❞ he laughed again, louder, reaching for a bottle. ❝ i mean, alex was right. she looks really fucking good in that dress. ❞ something tinged the locked corners of his mind. he should stand assuredly on faith’s side to avoid the headlines, but he R E A L L Y didn��t want to sour his relationship with alex by doing so. but picking alex, publicly, could ruin everything. it could ruin him, his reputation, his career, his sanity. so he picked neither. zach stood unsteadily on his feet, arm unfurled, fingers twining through that of an instagram model he was sure he’d allowed to give him head at some point in the past. ❝ but so does she. and it’s my birthday, so if you’ll excuse me... ❞ he grinned sheepishly, leading the girl away with a throng of inebriated friends and groupies alike in tow.

#gif chat

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kadobeclothing · 4 years

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5 Examples of Brands Newsjacking in 2019

Shortly after the announcement that Prince Harry and Meghan Markle were “stepping away” as senior members of the Royal Family, Madame Tussauds Wax Museum also made news by removing Harry and Megan from a wax display of the Royal family.

But, the famous wax museum’s publicity stunt isn’t the only example of a brand that’s leveraged a news event to gain awareness or viral attention. In fact, this tactic has been used by marketers throughout the 2000s. It’s often called “newsjacking.”

Newsjacking is when a brand or firm mentions or creates a campaign centered around a major, well-discussed news item. It’s slightly different from a publicity stunt in that the news item is leveraged in marketing while a stunt might acknowledge news within a public venue or place of business. Why do brands choose to newsjack rather than creating a totally original storyline for their campaigns? It’s simply because this strategy helps them get discovered by adding or piggybacking off of larger conversations happening online. In the early 2010s, we frequently saw newsjacking attempts during big, televised events like the Super Bowl or the Academy Awards. But, as marketers more frequently use social media and online channels, we’re seeing brands identify newsy topics faster and newsjack through a variety of content. If you’re looking to leverage news, trends, or current events to amp up your marketing strategy, you might be wondering, “How do I get started?” or “How can I do this tastefully?” If so, one great way to learn how to newsjack is to watch how other brands have done it. To help you get inspired, here are five examples of brands that successfully took on newsjacking in 2019, and some takeaways that you can keep in mind in 2020. 7 Examples of Newsjacking in 2019 Aviation Gin: The Gift That Gives Back News Item In December 2019, the workout bike company Peloton released a critically panned commercial that begins with a husband giving his wife a Peloton for Christmas. As the commercial continues to the optimistic sounds of the song, “There She Goes,” the wife, coined as “Peloton Wife” on social media, films herself working out every day for a year. At the end of the ad, she shares the video with her husband — seemingly the following Christmas. Here’s the commercial, which is titled “The Gift That Gives Back”:

The commercial was heavily criticized and mocked throughout social media because it enforced dated gender norms and goes against body positivity because many people believe that a husband buying a wife a workout device insinuates that she’s out of shape. The Newsjacking After the Peloton ad — and it’s instant criticisms — circulated the internet, actor and Aviation American Gin owner Ryan Reynolds immediately cast Monica Ruiz, a.k.a. “Peloton Wife,” in a commercial written to feel like a sequel to the Peloton ad. In the commercial, humorously titled “The Gift That Doesn’t Give Back,” Ruiz sits at a bar, staring blankly into the camera. She emotionlessly sips on and complements the smooth taste of Aviation Gin as her supportive friends offer her more gin and make comments like, “You look great, by the way.”

While the ad doesn’t directly mention the workout bike company, Reynolds says Aviation Gin’s commercial was a direct response to Peloton. In fact, Reynolds initially tweeted the ad with the caption, “Exercise bike not included,” and later explained that he hired the Ruiz just a “few hours” after the original ad launched. “I’ve been there as an actor, where you do something that doesn’t quite work . We got ahold of her and within 36 hours, we shot, chopped, and put out this commercial,” Reynolds explained on The Tonight Show. Shortly after its launch, Aviation Gin’s commercial went viral, receiving over 6.2 million YouTube views and 42 thousand retweets on Twitter. It’s also been noted by a number of publications including MarketingLand and AdWeek. This newsjacking was successful for a number of reasons. First, the brand quickly responded to a news item with a creative idea. Additionally, the campaign was subtle, professional, and didn’t directly acknowledge Peloton. With just a few words and visuals, it told a deeper story which was almost more hilarious than if it had directly acknowledged the workout bike company. Burger King’s “Big Mac-ish” Menu News Item After a legal battle with an Irish fast-food chain called Supermac’s, McDonalds lost its exclusive Big Mac trademark. While the fast-food giant could still keep using the Big Mac title for its sandwich in Europe, the ruling noted that any other company could also use the term “Big Mac” on its menus or marketing assets. The Newsjacking Burger King took full advantage of its competitor’s legal slip by launching a handful of marketing content discussing its own Big Mac-like products. For example, Burger King released European menus that promoted its own “Big Mac-ish” sandwiches, as seen below. It also offered a limited-time flame-grilled Big Mac that it claimed was bigger and tastier than the McDonald’s menu item. Below is the Burger King menu which highlights its Big Mac-ish items and the Big Mac copy.

Source: Marketing-Interactive.com This is a great example of how one company can take advantage of news relating to its competitor in a funny, but professional way. AeroMexico: “A World Without Borders” News Item Throughout President Donald Trump’s time in office, the administration has tightened border policies while continuing to construct a metal wall at the U.S. Mexico border. This has continued to fuel debates about whether the United States, a country that was historically founded by immigrants, should have such tight border policies and a wall. This debate reached a major pique when the Trump administration’s request for wall funding resulted in the longest government shutdown ever, running from December 22, 2018, to January 25, 2019. The Newsjacking AeroMexico, an airline that offers routes specifically to Mexico, paid close attention to these debates and took note of the fact that millions of Americans “did not want to travel to Mexico.” Rather than pivoting their strategy or adding routes to other locations, AeroMexico went to a rural United States town, DNA-tested residents who were in favor of the border wall, and offered them flight discounts based on the percentage of Mexican descent that was revealed on their DNA tests. AeroMexico then followed up with a commercial showing each person giving their views on immigration laws, Mexico, and the wall. During the commercial, which showed AeroMexico interviewing the residents, a cameraman asks each of them, “Would you consider going to Mexico?” Their discomfort with the idea of traveling south becomes apparent when they answer with statements like, “No way!” and “Let those folks stay on their side of the border.” It then showed their surpised facial expressions when they all found out about their Mexican heritage. Lastly, the commercial notes how most of them were interested in taking the discounted flight to Mexico once they were offered it.

“Many Americans don’t like Mexico. But … according to the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, Mexican immigration goes as far as the 1800s, settling in on the south — meaning that a big percentage of descendants in the U.S.A. don’t even know it yet,” noted AeroMexico’s Clio award submission. “Without a significant budget, our strategy was to take advantage of the media coverage that President Trump’s government shutdown had. Therefore, we focused all of our PR resources on spreading our video on social media,” the submission added. According to the Clio submission, the campaign went viral, receiving more than 1.6 billion impressions. It also resulted in a 33.7% increase in ticket sales between the U.S. and Mexico. This campaign and commercial is a great example of how a company entered a political debate and made a point in a clever way. It also shows that they are proud of their business and those of the Mexican heritage because they’re willing to offer giant discounts, even to immigration critics, with Mexican descent. The commercial and campaign were so fascinating and thought-provoking that it even won a 2019 Clio Award. Gillette: “The Best Men Can Be” News Item In 2018 and 2019, the #MeToo movement led to a number of high-powered, and sometimes well-trusted, men getting accused or charged for sexual assault and harassment. High-level men who incurred allegations included film executive Harvey Weinstein and ex-Good Morning America co-host Matt Lauer. This movement was marked by the #MeToo social media trend, started by activist and Weinstein accuser Alyssa Milano. The trend encouraged women to spread awareness of how common sexual harassment, misconduct, and assault was by sharing stories along with the #MeToo hashtag. The Newsjacking Gillette, which has always positioned its shaving products as, “The Best a Man Can Get,” wanted to reposition its take on masculinity in light of the #MeToo movement. To do this, they aired an intense Super Bowl commercial that digs into toxic masculinity and the negative stereotypes related to manhood. The commercial begins with visuals of men looking in the mirror, with soundbites of news reports related to bullying, toxic masculinity, and the #MeToo movement. When the ad cuts to an old Gillette commercial showing a strong man, a narrator asks, “Is this really the best a man can get?” as a young boy breaks through a screen showing the old Gillette commercial while running from bigger male bullies.

The commercial goes on to show different aspects of toxic masculinity, such as texts from male bullies saying phrases like “FREAK!”, a male executive touching a woman’s shoulder in a meeting and stating, “What I think she’s trying to say is…”, and young children fighting as their father’s say, “Boys will be boys.” Suddenly, the narration says, “Something finally changed — and there will be no going back,” as the ad cuts to clips of news coverage following the #MeToo movement. The ad culminates by showing clips of men being good influences by stopping boys from fighting, standing up to bullies, and actual footage of a father telling his infant daughter that she is strong. “We believe in the best in men. To say the right thing, to act the right way. Some already are in ways big and small. But ‘some’ is not enough. Because the boys watching today will be the men of tomorrow,” the ad concludes. While the commercial highlighted a controversial item and allowed the company to take a progressive stance on it, it still came with some mixed reviews due to its sensitive nature. Although it has both positive and negative reviews, it’s important to include on this list so that marketers can learn both the positive and impacts of newsjacking strategies. Many who saw the ad felt that Gillette was desperately leaning into a sensitive movement to benefit its own brand. “Part of the Gillette’s motive for running the ad may be that there is recent research suggesting that millennials give more credit to brands using corporate social responsibility appeals,” noted a Forbes post. “In this case, it appears Gillette will learn a lesson about what not to do as pertains to corporate responsibility efforts.” Meanwhile, some still identified how it was a solid step forward in marketing. For example, a Wired post noted that the ad was an “undeniable sign of progress” despite its backlash. “Once again, the country seems divided. This time, it’s not a border wall or a health care proposal driving the animus, but an online ad for a men’s razor, because, of course,” the Wired article states. “But underneath the controversy lies something much more important: signs of real change.” All in all, it’s important to look at both the pros and cons of this example. Although Gillette’s commercial was high quality, made valid points, and stirred emotions from viewers, it’s important to keep in mind that this is a large company still aiming to succeed in a society that is much different than when its company began decades ago. Oreo’s Area 51 Tweet News Item In the fall of 2019, social media users were buzzing about a bizarre plan to raid Area 51, a highly classified government base which conspiracy theorists say is the home of testing extraterrestrials. The Newsjacking Oreo went to Twitter and simply joked, “What flavors do you think they’re hiding in #Area51?” Thousands of users, and even other brands, replied and shared the tweet.

This is a great example of a brand that affordably, and quickly, referenced newsy or trendy topics to gain engagement, likeability, and brand awareness on a social network. Not to mention, Oreo instantly got people to discuss great Oreo flavors on Twitter. While other brands on this list have embraced newsjacking with high-budget campaigns or commercials, Oreo shows that the strategy doesn’t have to get too complex, time-consuming, or costly for marketers. Newsjacking Takeaways for 2020 With fast-paced social media and online news published every second, there are more and more opportunities where marketers can embrace newsjacking. But, before you attempt to newsjack, take time to consider the news item and make sure that your strategy will be tasteful or informative, rather than offensive. For example, if you make a funny reference about a bizarre trend like the Area 51 raids, you might be seen as funny or memorable. However, if you post an insensitive campaign or comment about a controversial topic — such as immigration, you might be seen as out of touch. As you craft a creative newsjacking strategy, be sure to run it by other members of your marketing team and get your feedback to ensure that your content doesn’t flop. To learn more about how to cleverly embrace newsjacking, check out this blog post.

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