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mybrokenveins3000 · 8 months

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Freshers - College!Ross Macdonald

A/N: HII!! This is my first time writing anything on Tumblr, let alone the 1975 related. I hope you guys like it. Ignore how my grammar is all over the place, quotation marks and commas confuse me.

I move to university in about two weeks, I doubt anything like this will happen, but a girl can dream. Anyways, enjoy! Also, this is dedicated to @hypersonic04 <3

word count: 1.6k

♫ My Funny Girl - Harry Teardrop // Eighteen - Pale Waves

It's almost been a month since you moved to the city for university. Tonight, you're at a coursemate's flat for Pres. Trashy guilty-pleasure pop blasts through the speakers and you're busy avoiding people, drinking by the window. You watch the condensation trail behind a departing aeroplane over the cityscape. You're thinking about where you are now, the kind of people you brush shoulders with, and how easy it is to feel so desperately alone out here.

Despite the air of maturity and the swill of liquor in your mouth, it always shocked you how laughably predictable university boys can be - especially those on your Film course. It's been a month and you're already bored by the typical film bro spiel of "why Tarantino is the best director of all time" and how "there's something manic pixie dream girl about you".

Speaking of, you feel a tall, masculine shadow cast over you interrupting your intense thinking. Cue the "what's your favourite film" question, you think to yourself.

"What's your favourite film?"

Right, here we go again.

"Depends. Who's asking?" you laugh to yourself, still watching that blinking plane.

"Um, me." Now that felt more like a question.

"And, who are you?" You whip around and see a tall boy in a black hoodie. Who is this? He's cute... is your immediate response to the stranger.

You playfully prod at him with your empty solo cup, "Youuu are not on my course."

He laughs gently, casting his eyes to the floor. Despite his shy cadence, there's an effortlessness and confidence about him that is rare to find among these overgrown teenagers. "No, I'm not. I do History."

You squint and he senses your confusion about his presence at a Film student function.

"I came with him", he gestures over to the couch. The scantily clad, mop-headed, binge-drinking, serial flirt, Matty Healy, lounges across your girl friends' legs. You scowl. You and Matty have argued in and out of every seminar you've ever shared. It surprised you that someone like the boy in front of you was here with him.

"He actually told me to ask that question"

"Hm?"

"Your favourite film? He said it's a good conversation starter but I'm beginning to think," he makes a note of your comically disappointed expression, "that he is very, very wrong"

He smiles at you. You can't help but smile back at him. The image of him preparing to talk you flashes in your mind. You smile harder.

"Roman Holiday", he leans over to hear you better over the drowning sound of pop, exposing his neck and the chain dangling around it. "My favourite film is Roman Holiday"

"Never heard of it--"

"YOU'VE NEVER HEARD OF ROMAN HOLIDAY?!?!" He certainly didn't need to lean in to hear that. He laughs at the inner film nerd in you coming out.

In that moment, he could see it. You and his best friend having passive-aggressive discussions during seminars. It's stupid to admit the twinge of jealousy he felt at the idea. I mean, you had only just met. Maybe it's the alcohol or Teenage Dream on the speaker, maybe he wants to see that enthusiasm and hear you talk about films forever and ever.

"Maybe we could watch it sometime."

It doesn't help that you blush easily. You can see yourself now, a vision in bright red.

"Does that line work for every girl?"

"I don't know, I haven't used it before," he smiles and rakes a hand through his hair. Fuck.

Wait, let's not get ahead of ourselves. "Who are you again?" you ask before you can glow any brighter.

"I'm Ross."

You reply with your name and extend your free hand to shake his.

The speakers go quiet over this exchange. A drunken voice exclaims "RIGHT, LET'S GO!" followed by peals of laughter and excitement.

You look at each other, hand in hand, knowing that you just started something good. Something good that you don't want to infect with even louder music, sweaty bodies and strobe lights - not now at least. If only Pres could last forever. You let go of his hand.

People flood out of the flat, but a girl friend of yours whose flat this is hangs back when she sees the pair of you not moving.

"Hey, could we stay here actually?" you tell her.

Having hosted so many film parties and Pres, she knows you're usually the first out of the door. She knows that you never do this or feel this, especially not for boys you've only met. But there's something about him and this squeezing in your heart. You don't want him to leave you.

She smiles, turning the speakers back on, the volume set to low. It's Boom Clap by Charli XCX. You wouldn't know this 'til much later, but she thinks you two make a good couple. "You don't need a key to leave and the door locks by itself, so feel free to stay."

Before she disappears out the door, Ross exclaims "Take care of Matty!!"

"No promises!!" she shouts back.

---

Saturday bleeds into Sunday. You're sitting on the floor with a boy you just met. He does History, you do Film. The Bluetooth speaker died in the middle of Colors by Halsey, but you both were too engrossed in conversation to realise it.

The October wind picked up, tossing the plastic cups across the room, but he was too busy looking at you, how the air danced and played with your hair. Neither of you could figure out how to close the window, you were both guests here after all. When he noticed you shivering, his black hoodie immediately came off. He blushed as you put it on, how the sleeves extended past your hands. It was hard for you not to hug yourself and take in his smell of petrichor and aftershave in its entirety. It was hard for him not to hug you.

By this point, you could name all his favourite teachers from secondary school and why the 1900s was his favourite century. He could list your top 10 films in order and the details about your hometown that you love. He recounts what it was like growing up in Wilmslow with Matty. You never knew Wilmslow ever existed, you never knew anyone's words could soften you to Matty.

As he speaks, you notice the distant whir of passing cars, the wind, the hum of the light bulb, and how this is all so tragically and desperately transient.

"What's wrong?" he asks as if he has known you a long time. He has made a note of how expressive you are, how whatever you're thinking or feeling is easy to detect just by looking at your face. You wouldn't know it, but he decides right then and there that he wants to recognise every micro-expression your face could make.

"I like talking to you," you admit, almost sadly.

"I like talking to you, too."

You glance out the window. "But you do know what they say about the people you meet in the first semester," they don't stay.

"Yeah, yeah, I do know, but" he delicately places his hand on your knee, "you're someone people want to keep."

Silence. There's an unspoken force about the two of you. It encourages you to submit to the endearing teenage stupidity and rash decision-making.

"You're someone I want to keep," he says finally. Whilst your eyes, tipsy and excited, have been jumping from surface to surface, his has been fixed on you the entire night.

A thump from the front door interrupts the moment followed by crashing and inelegant, drunken moaning.

"Ohmygod you guys are STILL HERE?!?!" screams that coursemate of yours, popping her head through the door. "MATTY, THEY'RE STILL HERE!"

A tiny "ᶠᵁᶜᴷ" can be heard from another room. You and Ross laugh to yourselves, not surprised by the scene unraveling before you two.

"You know I love you guys but do you mind fucking off?"

Ross is already stood up and helps you onto your feet. You could get used to this. You plant a chaste kiss on her sweaty forehead followed by "You know I love you. Use protection."

"Have fun, mate!" Ross yells down the corridor as you make your way to the door.

"ᶠᵁᶜᴷ ʸᴼᵁ"

---

You strike yourself as more tipsy than you realise as you wiggle the door handle and cry, "OHMYGOD, IT DOES LOCK ON ITS OWN!!"

And he's looking at you, smiling that same warm smile, as you get excited over a door. You're still wearing his hoodie.

You notice him staring, "what?"

"Nothing"

"You look like you want to say something?" He takes in a breath and shrugs. "If you wanna say something, just say it," you laugh.

To that, he lifts up your chin with his finger and kisses you.

As soon as he backs away, you toss your arms around his neck and inelegantly smash your face onto his. You can feel him smiling as you kiss. His arms pull you closer at the waist, hands underneath his hoodie.

"I've been waiting to do that all night," he whispers as you pull away. The streetlights and skyscrapers blink through the windows of the dimly lit corridor. Only this time in the face of the city, you don't feel alone anymore.

"Are you busy today?" he asks, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. You're still slung around his neck. It's all stupidly endearingly familiar, but also so new. You kiss through the conversation.

"No, no, not busy... do need to do my laundry though."

"Good, so do I." You silently agree to do it together.

You take his hand in yours and walk down the stairs.

"I'm someone you wanna keep, huh?"

"You're someone I wanna keep."

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cubfan-montblanc · 4 months

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Is there a chance we can get more tangdubs? Pretty please?

oh anon there is /always/ a chance for more tangdubs. just for you ^_^ here are a couple tangdubs epic bitch moments from early secret life. they are such haters to each other <3

#trafficshipping #tangotek #bdoubleo100 #tangdubs #slsmp #secret life smp #life series #traffic smp #life smp #art tag #my art #secret life spoilers #tango tek #bdubs #it’s all ‘hey snookums bdoublesoulmate <3’ until he stabs you in the back and takes two lives from you in the span of an hour #side note a dl soulmate swap au with these two would be so fun. the betrayal is even fresher~#they’d have annoying petnames fs

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socksandbuttons · 2 years

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Im not gonna explain, this explains enough!!!! Mutuals keep reblogging Fnaf and i kept seeing these two so- Sun and Moon Papyrus !! They exist!!! i gave them a BOW (A BOWWWW) therefore i love them Anyway add them to the list i have not stopped making of Papyrus AU’s

#i gotta fill the VOID #with... many papyrus'#how many am i at now??? like mabe 20??? around there #undertale au #papyrus au #idk how to tag sun and moon so im not doing that #sun papyrus #moon papyrus #could i reuse the concept for fresher designs???? yes but maybe later #myart #undertale art #i feel like i should make the moon on his face either darker or his face darker but HMNNN nah

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discordiansamba · 5 months

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I definitely have also not been rotating another AU lately (in addition to all of the other unwritten AUs that I am still very much rotating).

Ideally I'd like to get a few more updates out, but we'll just have to see how that goes. I am making zero promises! Safest bet! I really want to concentrate on either anomalous point, flicker, who you are in the dark, or abyss of memory given where those fics left off but again. no promises!!!

I'd also love to kick this blog into some more activity, so if y'all want to send me some asks, that would be great! my fic tag list should also now be completely working bc I found some time to update the links after tumblr broke them all awhile back.

(if it's not working on mobile, I'm sorry. I'm desktop only)

#it's a chronic condition. the AUs #only vld for now i haven't rewatchted atla in awhile. I need it fresher in my mind

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transfem-edward · 1 year

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shes angry

#emily the stirling engine #ttte emily #ttte donald #ttte douglas #ttte donald and douglas #ttte humans #ttte humanization #ttte human #ttte humanized #ttte human au #gone dutch au #ttte gone dutch au #ttte gone dutch #emily in the middle #donald and douglas #if you look closely #douglas' scars are fresher cuz love me tender #was quite recent at the time

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moonlightsmasquerade · 10 months

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WAIT adam’s mom is/was alive?!?? in the mim au ?!?!???

Yep!

Lynn doesn't die when Adam was a baby, he and her lived happily until Adam was 15, when one day he came home to her gone, no note, no nothing, she vanished.

She n Jude still split, and when looking for her the police wanted Adam to stay with his dad, but turns out he was gone too!

Adam ended up running away and living with Sarah.

#they got got #i thought it would be interesting because the “missing mom” nerve hurts more #wounds fresher #bps was still a club beforehand but now adams got more motivation than his curiousity about the paranormal #tmc mim au #i like twisting ideas into new things yknow?

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cult-of-dollbabies · 7 months

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is this anything

#abomination #giving this au a fresher start soon.. i hope #forgot andys scar cause of course i did #rusty

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fanficmaniatic · 10 months

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the tension between me wanting to draw vs me wanting to write, and then me wanting to write vs the seven 7 ninjago aus that are consuming my brain rn

#ninjago #is like.... do I work on my old au for olds times sake #do i work on my souldmates au?#my old morro is alive au??#My NEW morro is alive au??#or my EVEN fresher Morro is alive au... dragons rising edition??#OR #in a completle new turn of events... my ninjago rewrite #morro is alive there too btw #or I can just work on my “cannon didnt expand on this so i might as well”#cole and nya fic because I need them as platonic soulmantes #or that one jay fic that wont let me sleep ... I hate it here #and thats just ninjago

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kylo-wrecked · 6 months

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Anonymously tell my muse what the fuck is wrong with them: "Whats wrong with you? A lot, a kriffing lot! But for the sake of beeing short because of course noone listens to the kriffing doctor when they say important kriffery and instead they drown in the ocean of very kriffing important words and only hear what they want to hear- you are not living in an enviorment that allowes you to produce the right amount of Serotonine, so you end up beeing the kriffing grumphy, all black wearing Kriffer that looks like he has not seen a kriffing sun in lightyears. Which, yes, mood, as an albino I can unerstand that, but you have kriffing melatonine, so there are no kriffing excuses: Go and stand in the sun for around two hours a day, get a kriffing plant to grow to sooth your stoneage-instincts to have nature around you instead of kriffing cold wide empty space so that brain would not be in a permanent state of kriffing screaming anxiety, eat something else than random cantina-kriffery,drink something else than caf at best even two litres of kriffing water a day, and occaisonally, you know, if you happen to not be kriffing shot at, take a kriffing nap. Around eight hours a day. Will do kriffing wonders for you, but not that you ask kriffing me, nohohohho, who would ask me." There was a pause: "Also I swear, if you now make a kriffing "short people" joke just because I said I will be short with my words, I will bite off your toes one by one and kriffing eat them infront of you."

@irrfahrer ://

There was a pause. One pause in Ziv's maniacal diagnoses, and in that pause, Ben grinned somewhat and plopped his chin in his hand. (*The pink, puckered hand he'd almost lost to one of the Ren. Who was going to do what with it? Deliver it to Snoke? If one hand was all it took to impress, they must've been in dire straits. Seven knights, one hand—what were the odds? Kriffing incredible.*)

"You know what's wrong with me?" he said sweetly. "You. You're a monster."

But since Ziv offered her velvet ear and paw to his aid, Ben decided he'd ask where he could stand, in broad daylight, for two hours, without getting shot?

#irrfahrer #‘hey you; what the fuck is wrong with you’#sw au | smuggler!ben: the scoundrel #smuggler!verse headcanons #edited: for quality assurance #{he naps at ziv's}#{he eats at ziv's}#{he breathes at ziv's (clean plant oxygen)}#{he's using her fresher}#{what a life}#{i imagine she's yelling and that's why the teXt is BiG}#{gave me a good laugh <333}

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kirkwallguy · 3 months

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idk if there's really much of a market for da fics nowadays but i want to write a multi-chapter one to dig me out of a writing slump...

first option would be haunted house horror-esque and probably pretty nasty. second option would be mostly using sibling ocs to explore the circles + do fun things with mage templar dynamics. third option is exactly what it sounds like with half of it being surviving in the deep roads and the other half being adjusting to living on the surface - deep roads crew would be anders varric and aveline.

#leaning towards the deep roads au atm.#would probably be reddish-blue pro mage hawke idk if theres a standard or more popular one used in fic #i acc haven't read any da fic idk if thats a disadvantage or not . might make things fresher idk

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miabrown007 · 1 year

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one of my favourite things to write is emotional snapshots, if you will--instead of showing a past event play out properly, just describe it in a couple words even though it could have a whole one-shot written about it, and then move on. and I often get the urge to elaborate on these, but I feel like their shortness is what makes these good? like, some stories just feel a certain length and I'd be only doing them a disservice to disregard that.

Not that her degree in fashion design helps any with that — but that is currently beside the point. She’s proud of that degree, regardless. It’s from a very prestigious university in New York, after all. It’s awesome. It helped her to land a great job when she returned to Paris a few months ago, and now her life is amazing. She’s proud that she went and got it. And she’s glad that she didn’t let anyone hold her back. (Really, how was she supposed to know she’d run into Adrien at the airport, both of them clutching the rail of a suitcase that fit their whole life. “You’re going away?” he asked, voice so small and eerily familiar, it crumpled Marinette’s stomach into a tiny paper ball. “You’re coming back,” she said, the only syllables able to make it past her clenched teeth. He shrugged, a motion barely there. “Always.”) But sometimes Marinette still wonders what her life would be like now, if she chose to pretend she’s in a cheesy Hallmark movie back then. If she turned back just before the check-in gates and ran along the corridors of the airport. Would Adrien have met her halfway, picked her up and spun her around, kissing her senseless? She shakes her head. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter anymore.

I don't know, is this anything beside world-building?

#the snippet is from Mistle-Toeing The Line btw #I have much fresher ones from heist AU where it's really a single sentence but those are very spoilery so I can't show them #anyway is this a thing?#or is this literally just me playing with the show/tell balance without knowing that's what I do #and proving to myself that sometimes tell is actually better #particularly if you want to keep your story short. huh. anyway #miaraculous writing #miaing

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mybrokenveins3000 · 8 months

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Hey I just read all of your college Ross pieces and I love them!!

What about one night if reader goes out and ends up too drunk and calls Ross so he comes to pick her up and takes her home. Maybe she's trying to talk about her feelings for him but he doesn't want her saying anything she'll be embarrassed by. Or she asks him to stay the night so he sleeps on her floor

A/N: Oh. My. God.

FIRST AND FOREMOST, thank you for the love and for readingg <3 It really means the world to me. SECOND OF ALL... ANON... YOUR BRAIN IS SO LARGE. I am going to PASS OUT. Thank you for this request, my heart might just burst. I might have gone over board, this is the longest thing I've written thus far. Anyways, here goes nothing... enjoy ;)

Drunk Call - College!Ross Macdonald

word count: 1.5k

♫ Heavenly - Pale Waves

This party is excessive and headache-inducing - the music is bad, the people even worse. You don't even know why you're here. When your flatmates asked "why that party?", you simply replied, "just for something to do".

You're slumped down by the foot of the couch, tangled between legs, empty bottles, empty cups. No matter how much you hammer at the side of your phone, all that blinks back is a fat 0%.

The liquor is not sitting right in your stomach, you're not in the mood, and each thrum of bass reminds you of him.

You haven't seen Ross for what feels like forever. He had gone back to his hometown for the week whilst you stayed in the city. There was something noticeably different about the setting without him, the lights felt dimmer, the air felt colder.

You were conscious not to disrupt his week at home, spending so many nights staring at an untouched keyboard. Oh, the amount of text messages you thought up but never sent.

But you knew he would be back today, which was your main source of hope in this tragic, alcohol-punctuated moment.

Without a second thought, you pull at a semi-familiar friend's trouser leg and ask if you can borrow their phone. After a reluctant "yes", you're punching a familiar number onto the screen, then the bright and inviting call button.

The phone buzzes softly in your hand as you lift it to your ear.

Pick up pick up pick up pick up--

"Hello, this is Ross speaking."

You relax at the sound of his voice. You were beyond the border of missing him.

"Hello!!" you exclaim, loud enough to hear yourself over the music - which is to say deafening from his side of the line.

"Whoa," it's like you can hear him wincing, "is that who I think it is?"

"Mhmmm"

"Where are you? Are you okay?" You selfishly smile at the twinge of panic in his voice as he registers the state you're in.

"My phone... it died... This is the only number I know," you gulp, "off by heart."

He's speechless, already devising a plan to save you. If only you could see him now, a blushing mess, half worried, half desperately in love.

"Are you busy?" you add before he can react to the former statement.

"Uhh no, just finished practice. Where are you?"

"Oh, practice... GUYS, I'M ON THE PHONE WITH A ROCKSTAR!!" you announce with such pride to a room full of strangers and acquaintances, once again almost deafening him on the other side of the line. And yet he's hanging onto every word, even if it hurts him.

"Okay, I'm coming to get you," he laughs, "don't worry, I think I know where you are."

"My hero!" you tease, "but please come soon, the music is so bad and I miss you, Ross, I FUCKING MISS YOU--"

You accidentally hang up.

---

Not two minutes later, you see a familiar, flushed face enter the room. Did he run here?

The scene is hazy and fragmented, but you could recognise the space he takes up in any room, even in this state. Ross towers over the crowd, a vision in black denim, searching over moving heads and smoke. Then he locks eyes with you.

You wave at him, still sitting on the floor by the couch. He seems to sigh in relief, hand on his heart.

You spring up as he approaches, unaware of the bottles and cups you've knocked over. He takes you in - you, slightly unravelled but the same as ever. Still beautiful as ever.

"ROCKSTAR!" you cry as you flop into him, catching his eyes crinkling at the name. And you're back in his arms, so inviting, not so dissimilar to the comfort of home. "How did you know I was here?!" you beam at him.

"Matty mentioned it. He wasn't invited," he laughs.

"Lucky him."

You stand there in the middle of the room holding each other for a while, both revelling in how much you've missed each other. For a second, it's warm and quiet. If it took one long week and a bad party to experience this, you think, then it was all worth it.

Suddenly, the song changes to a particularly insufferable one. You both groan like you're one body, one mind.

"Let's go?" he says.

"Let's go."

---

You dance in and out of streetlights down the path to your accommodation, humming one of his band's songs, one from the night of the gig. Ross's walking right beside you, arms at the ready in case you fall or turn where you're not supposed to. Even as you stumble, he gazes at you with amazement at how beautiful you look without even trying.

"What was that thing?" you blurt out.

"What thing?" he hums in response, his alertness veiled by a sense of calm, eyes still glazed with wonder.

"You know, that thing you said when we first met? I'm someone you want to keep, was it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I never said that." he teases, his playful grin giving away his lies.

You throw your arms out and scream into the night, "I'M SOMEONE YOU WANT TO KEEEEEEP!!"

He laughs awkwardly, eyes widening at your sudden outburst. But he adores you. In this moment, that's his only truth.

"Ah, okay, let's take a break"

He settles you down onto a nearby bench. You take in a deep breath of fresh air which turns into a yawn.

Your head starts to droop, but he quickly rests it on his shoulder as he lowers down to sit next to you. Always ready to take care of you, to save you when you let him.

"So suave, so so nice, so nice" you mumble drowsily, half to him, half to yourself.

"What was that?"

"You're so nice... And so good-looking," you can't stop your mouth from moving, "I really like being around you and I missed you so much, but I don't know if you felt the same!! But you're so nice, sometimes I just want to--"

"Okay, okay, that's enough," he slithers his arm around your waist and hoists you back up onto your feet before you say something you'll regret.

But he's unable to bite back a smile. In another world, he would let you speak, but he knows you and knows better than to let you talk yourself into a hole you can't escape.

Not yet, he thinks, not like this.

"Hey! You could compliment me, you know," you nag as you start walking again.

There's a pause as he really considers his response.

"...you know you're gorgeous, right?" he finally sighs, breath visible in the crisp night air, "besides, everything I'd say, I'd want you to remember."

---

He gently lays you down in your bed, but you can't seem to let go of him.

"I don't want you to go", you whine, "won't you stay?"

"For how long?"

"Stay forever."

His eyes soften as he looks down at you, your arms still clasped around his neck. Only you have the power to render him speechless like this. It's so easy for you to get what you want.

You let go of him, aggressively patting the empty side of the bed.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I don't share beds with drunk girls," he says. He takes a stray pillow and blanket, and plonks them onto the floor beside you so he can monitor you as you sleep. By this point, you've already passed out.

---

Ross can't sleep. He doesn't mind the floor, but stirs at every sound and movement you make, constantly checking if you're okay.

Throughout the night, he finds himself looking at the details of your room, at books, concert tickets, and photos of friends and family - pieces of you that he wants to know more about.

He watches you, so peaceful, in awe how he has someone like you in his life.

My life would be so boring without you, he thinks.

---

You wake up just as he walks into the room with a cup of tea. He sets the cup down by the bedside table with a soft smile. The air of domesticity is something you could live in forever.

"Hi," you mumble through fluttering eyelids, filtering the Sunday morning sun.

"Hi. Are you doing okay?"

You nod as you sit up. He sits on the bed, brushing the stray hairs from your face, the warmth of his hand like a healing force. You can't tell he hadn't slept because of how happy he looks just to be there.

You reach over for the tea with the comfort of knowing he made it just how you like it.

"I didn't say anything weird, did I?" you croak, sipping the tea.

"No, not at all," he replies.

There's a moment of silence. The morning birds fly past the window, the steam of the mugs mists your eyes.

"I missed you too, you know," he finally says, "I missed you so much."

A/N: Didn't proofread this but HOPE YOU ENJOYED. I'll probably edit it a bit when I come back, but I wanted you to have this sooner rather than later, anon. THANKS FOR YOUR REQUEST AGAINNNN

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