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tripthelightfandomtastic · 2 years

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Prove it. - J.T.K

Anon Request: "Prompt 88: Kisses in which “I'll kiss you right now to prove I don't feel anything for you,” but the kiss proves the exact opposite. Prompt 95: not being able to unbutton your lover’s shirt, their kisses are everywhere and too distracting."

Authors Note: This story was inspired by an anon I received requesting a few prompts from the smut prompt list I reblogged. I have a couple more of these requests as well and I'm steady rockin' on writing these anons/message requests. I love this trope so much I'm really looking forward to the next ones! I can't wait to see what y'all think!

Synopsis: After a run in on a night out, you find yourself with more than you bargained for. (Ya know, we like to stay cryptic!)

Word Count: 4.1K (look at me pulling back)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI! Language, oral, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap your best friend)

I love you guys so much, thank you all for your amazing requests, I'm working on getting them out in the order I received them in. Y'all give me the best inspiration I adore you. Comment to be added to the tag list to be notified every time I post a new story! Let me know what y'all think! Thank you! Love you!

Prove It- J.T.K

You hate nightclubs. Why the fuck were you at a nightclub? “You having fun?!” A random stranger shouts to you at your position against the wall. He’s tall, not terrible looking, but definitely not the type you were into, plus he was way too underdressed, sweaty and very drunk. “Yeah.” You lied, shouting back over the house music giving him the most unimpressed and uninterested voice possible. Your shoes are killing you, there are way too many people, the drinks are too expensive and far too hard to get from the overcrowded bar, the music is trash and it's too loud to even think let alone have a conversation without losing your voice, and because there are guys like this. “Then smile!” The sweating man yells, a way too confident grin on his face as he takes a swig of his beer.

The comment alone sends a cringed expression across your face, “What’s there to smile about?” Your voice sends over the volume of the music, your eyes scanning around for- “Come on!” The man shouts, taking you suddenly by the wrist, pulling you to the dance floor, you nearly trip over your heels and alcohol in your system as you are pulled forcefully into the sea of people. Your eyes are wide as the man spins you to be in front of him, bodies all around you, moving and swaying to the music.

The guy grabs you by the waist, pulling you to be flushed against his chest, his hips grinding not so subtly against your ass. You're shocked at this guy's utter disregard for manners, you spin around to look at him, a look of disgust on your face apparent to even this drunk douchebag. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Let me turn that frown upside down.” The man smiles, taking another step towards you, hand reaching out to your cheek, but he’s stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. Your eyes search up from the hand, a smile finally appearing on your face. “I don’t think you're exactly what she has in mind.” Jake smirks as the guy turns to face him. “And who the fuck are you?” The sweating man spits, looking over Jake who looks as irritated as can be. “Her boyfriend, dumbass.” Jake snaps back, pushing past the guy and taking you to his side, arm falling firmly around your waist, thumb massaging reassuringly against your clothed hip, he leans down to your ear. “Come on, let’s go.” Jake says softly in your ear, kissing you on the cheek and walking you towards the door, his hand snaking to rest on the small of your back, making sure to shoulder check the guy on the way off of the dance floor, turning his head to send a smirk over his shoulder to the very angry man left standing in the center of the dancefloor.

The minute Jake opens the door to the street the cold breeze hits you, a welcome feeling from the heat of the club and the burning heat in your cheeks where Jake kissed you. The music thumps dully against the building behind you as Jake hails a cab. You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips as you watch how overprotective Jake has become, he opens the door to the cab and helps you inside, you smile at the gesture, still tipsy from your drinks that you would rather not disclose the price of.

The ride home is fast and you can’t suppress the giggle that rolls out of your mouth. You hurry the keys in the lock, swinging open the door and falling onto the couch still smiling and laughing. “What on earth is so funny?” Jake says, closing the door and kicking his boots off, he makes his way over to join you, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it over the back of the couch, you sit up making room for him. “Her boyfriend, dumbass.” You mimic in a low voice, “You seemed uncomfortable and in need of help!” He defends, “I was, that guy was an asshole. I told you I hate clubs.” You complain, Jake runs a hand through his long dark hair, “Well we definitely won’t be back.” “Yeah or my boyfriend over here will beat you up.” you giggle out at the thought. “You have a very funny way of thanking me.” He shoots back at you, you push down your smile to make way for a more serious expression to appease him. “Jake, I appreciate your help and for coming to my rescue, you’re a wonderful fake boyfriend.” You say with false sincerity, the smile coming back to your face. You loved getting under Jake’s skin, he’s your best friend but you can’t help the casual flirtations that leak into your conversations.

“You are very welcome.” He smiles back, relaxing against the couch, the two of you facing each other in the warm dim lighting of your apartment, the hum of the highway just outside the window facing the lights of the city. “Very nice touch you added there by the way.” You smirk, kicking your heels off, sighing in relief at the feeling of freedom from your heels. “What?” He asks simply, “The kiss, very convincing.” You wink, moving your legs to sit comfortably while still acting like a lady in your tight dress. “It was just a peck on the cheek.” He rolls his eyes, “I know, very sweet, Jakey.” you grin, resting your head on your hand, elbow against the back of the couch. “It wasn’t a big deal, I kiss my mom on the cheek!” “I don’t think you said you were my son?” You snort, “Oh my God, it wasn’t that crazy! It was just a kiss!” Jake argues, tossing his hands up. “Suuuure it was.” You drawl, mind still a little cloudy from the liquor. “You’re my best friend, it wasn’t that out of the ordinary.” “No, just the context was.” You press, you love pushing Jake’s buttons like this, he looks so cute, no, not cute, funny, when he gets riled up like this. “Why are you still on this?” His voice rising, “Why are you so mad?” You laugh out at his irritation. “I’m not! I don’t feel that way for you, that kiss didn’t mean anything!” Jake shrugs, crossing his arms at his admission. It hurts, just for a second his words sting. You decide to deflect your hurt, “Alright. Prove it.” You demand, crossing your arms, mirroring his stubborn pose.

You wish you could take a picture of the look that flashes on Jake’s face, his eyebrows raised, his lips parted with surprise. You remain firm, tilting your head to the side with a confident expression. “W-what?” His voice sounding so small and timid compared to the booming voice he had just a moment ago. “You heard me, Kiszka.” The look on Jake’s face shifts, turning back to that stubborn expression he held earlier. “Fine. I'll kiss you right now to prove I don't feel anything for you.” He states so matter of factly, uncrossing his arms and moving towards you on the couch, you uncross your arms, letting your hands rest on the cushions below you. Jake leans in, cupping his hands on your face to pull you to him rather swiftly, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss surprises you, you inhale a quick breath of shock, but then it just feels… good? His hands soften on your cheeks, the two of your lips only pushed together, both of you seem too nervous to move. His lips feel so soft against your own, but then he pulls away, slowly, too slow that you can feel your stomach flip with anxiety.

Jake looks at your lips, his hands still cradling you in his grasp. Your eyes search his, the world grows so quiet as his eyes finally meet yours, the look of them telling you nothing as you search desperately for the nuances of his expression. The silence feels deafening, you wonder if you can hear the sound of the blood pumping to your heart. You slowly bring a hand to hold the back of his hand, pressing it closer to your cheek. “Nothing, right?” Your voice squeaks as you attempt an answer from Jake. “Nothing.” He whispers, his eyes not leaving yours, in fact, he doesn’t move at all, until suddenly he leans back into you, pulling you in for a second kiss. This time it’s full of passion, longing, on both sides. Your hand flies to his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for his kiss. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, you appease him and grant him access to your mouth, the feeling of his tongue against your own makes your heart flutter.

Jake moves closer to you, resting between your legs that you’ve now parted to get him closer to you. He tastes sweet like the tequila soda from the club he was sipping on, you bite down on his lip, pulling it between your teeth, a groan rumbles in Jake’s throat, sending a warm sensation between your legs. His hands move down to your waist, you take your chance, releasing Jake’s lips and moving him back on the couch, straddling his lap. You both sit in the dark of your apartment, just staring at the others eyes, the only sound is your shared breathing hanging in the haze of the warm air.

“This doesn’t mean anything, right?” Jake whispers into the night, sweet brown eyes never leaving yours. “No. This won’t change anything,” You say, matching his quiet tone as you take in the look on his face, full of adoration but a look of worry runs just underneath. “Right?” You ask, bringing a hand up to his cheek, he melts under your touch, pressing his skin to be closer to the palm of your hand. “Right.” His voice sounds heavy with a rasp to it, his hands moving from your waist down to your thighs, bare skin against his warm hands makes a familiar heat flow through your core.

You two continue this silent game for a moment, you begin to move closer to his lips, Jake’s head fully resting against the back of the chair has his face tilting up towards you, his breath fanning over your lips. “Is this still okay?” You ask with an air of sensuality, loving the tension between you two, moving to take Jake’s chin in your hand gently, he gives you a little nod. “Is this?” Jake asks as his hands run underneath the hem of your little black dress, just inching up your thighs, “Y-Yeah.” Your voice betrays you as it falls out in a breathy whine. “Good.” Jake states, taking you to his lips again. You fall into the kiss, your hands resting on Jake’s strong shoulders, his own hands making their way to your ass, his large hands taking in the flesh beneath his palms. Your head falls back as a moan escapes your lips, your hands slip down to his partially exposed chest, you look up to start undoing the buttons on his shirt, not like he ever had many buttoned up anyway. His lips make way to your neck, a small gasp leaving your reddened lips, his lips so soft on your skin, the way his tongue feels just beneath your earlobe is enough to have you dizzy, leaving your hands unable to receive any signals from your brain to undo the buttons on his shirt. “Fucks sake.” You murmur as you try to snap out of the warm fog Jake’s lips have you in, letting your hands pull Jake by the collar as you stand on wobbly knees as you pull him to your bedroom.

You push him against the wall of your bedroom, you fall to your knees, undoing the rest of the stubborn buttons, your hands move to his belt. Jake’s hands make their way to assist yours, his hands hurried to free himself from the belt. You pull his pants down, only to find his already hardened cock outlined in his black briefs. An audible gasp from you catches Jake’s attention, “Holy…” Your voice abandons your thoughts, Jake only slightly chuckles under his breath, your hand moving to palm him through the material.

A sigh emits from his throat, a sound that has you wet from nothing more than the voice of your best friend. You test the waters, leaning in to sweetly give a kiss to his hardened dick under the thin black material. You give several more little kisses, the last one lingers a little longer as you look up at Jake through your lashes. His breathing hitches in his throat at the sight of you, he lets his head fall to rest against the wall, unable to take your teasing anymore. “Please.” Jake hisses through his teeth, barely able to hold himself from falling apart from your taunting kisses. Without another word you pull down the material from his hips and down his legs until he kicks them off. “So fucking big.” You whisper gently, taking him into your hand, the contact of your warm hand giving him slow strokes makes Jake moan lowly from the back of his throat, a sound you have never heard before but want so desperately to hear again, and again. "Aw Jakey, you like that?" You tease, looking up at him with big doe eyes, all he can do is nod quickly, his chest rising with the increase of his breathing, heart slamming in his chest like a kick drum beating against his ribs.

Opening your mouth, you ease his hardened member inside against your warm wet tongue. A moan escaping Jake's lips at the delicate sensation, you pull away for a moment just to kitty lick the underside of his head, knowing it would be the most sensitive spot. Jake rewards you with his hand weaving into your hair, careful not to press you onto him but just to anchor himself to you. His fingertips softly scratching at your scalp as he finds his hold in your hair, you take him into your mouth as far as you can take him. His hips buck upon the feeling of reaching the back of your throat.

"Fuuuck me." He drawls, the sound of his praise makes you quiver, you snake a hand behind his thigh to steady yourself up against him, your other hand stroking what you can't easily fit in your mouth. You feel his leg twitch from your nails gently grazing the back of the sensitive skin of his thigh, bringing a little grin to your lips as you pull away to catch your breath, stroking him with your hand as you look up at the beauty above you. You've never seen Jake so vulnerable before, the whole thing feels almost too stunning to witness.

You bring him back into your mouth, going further than before, hollowing your cheeks, letting your tongue run against the underside of his cock along the perfect vein that protrudes dreamily on his skin. You catch yourself closing your eyes, savoring the taste and softness of him in your mouth, you'd never been a huge fan of giving blowjobs before but you could do this for hours as long as it was Jake's perfect cock in your mouth. You moan against him at the thought of the pleasure you were giving him, replaying the groans and faces he had made over and over in your mind. The vibrations from your throat pulled a long low moan from Jake, you could feel yourself pooling in your panties. Jake's hand in your hair pulls you off his cock, you whimper at the loss of his closeness and from the roughness in his grip.

"Come here.” Jake says pulling you up off of your knees, spinning you around so now you’re the one pressed up against the wall, your breath being pushed from your lungs from the force and surprise of it all. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to see what you have going on under that dress.” Jake says with his hands sliding down your curves to the hem of your dress. He pulls the dress up and over your head, leaving you standing in your black bra and matching thong, thanking your lucky stars you look somewhat prepared, knowing full well Jake wouldn’t have cared even if you were in your ugliest cotton underwear and sports bra. His eyes wander over your body, drinking in the sight of your soft skin and black lace, you blush at his eagerness as he meets your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” He says softly, never letting his eyes drift from yours, making sure you heard him. He pulls you back into another kiss, hands drifting down to rest on your hips, “Jump.” He mumbles against your lips, and you do, his hands gripping the back of your thighs as you wrap your legs around his hips to keep you tight against him.

He continues to kiss you as he walks you toward the bed, setting you down gently, you sit up on your heels as you pull him closer to you, his hand groping at the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a little help from your own hand. He pulls away to ogle your chest, hands desperately kneading at the flesh of your breasts, you let your head roll back at the feeling of his hands on your tits. Jake brings an arm around the small of your back, laying you gently backward onto the pillows, his lips never ceasing their assault on your chest, making sure to tease you in return.

He dips his head down to your breast, licking softly over your nipple, his other hand busy massaging your other breast. You let out a moan at the feeling of his warm tongue skating over your hardening bud. “Oh Jake.” You mewl, hand snaking into Jake’s hair, pulling him closer to your chest. He envelops your nipple into his mouth, eyes rolling back into his head as you rake your nails against his scalp, fingers pulling delicately at his hair.

He pulls his lips away and meets your eyes, his hand coming to caress your clothed pussy. “You want this?” Jake asks, his eyes no longer speaking with a look of lust, but of concern and sweetness. “I need it.” You whine, hips bucking up at his palm. “I need you.” He returns, kissing you softly. Your eyes close at the sweetness from the kiss, you focus on the warmth of his hand coasting over your panties, his fingers running up your clothed folds. Calloused fingertips slip past the band of your panties, his fingers rolling down through your arousal, “So fucking wet, I’ve hardly touched you?” he whispers over your lips, your eyes open to take in the look of pure cocky confidence pulling at his face.

His cavalier attitude always secretly turned you on, always so fucking sure of himself, he knew the effect he had on women, but he never thought he would have this effect on his best friend, the person who knew all of his faults, imperfections and secrets and that’s what turned him on even more. “All for you, Jakey.” You smile at the smirk against his perfect teeth, that nickname, you were the only one who ever called him that. He tilts his head up at you, watching your reaction carefully as he slides his index finger inside you. “Oh fuck.” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head as his slender finger works into you. He adds a second finger working in a ‘come hither’ motion, making you grind against his hand. You’re a moaning mess from just his fingers alone, the control this man has over you is something you never thought you’d find in Jake. Slowly he pulls his fingers away, pulling down your soaked thong down your legs and tossing them onto the floor. He holds your gaze in his deep, dark brown eyes, bringing his fingers up to his lips, never once breaking away as he sucks off your arousal from his fingers. You sigh a the erotic scene, his lips separating with a slight pop, “Tastes so sweet.” he rasps, your jaw hangs open watching him, trying desperately to calm your fluttering heart.

He places himself between your legs, his hands gently spreading your thighs for him, he takes himself in his hand, pumping his hardened cock a few times before pressing himself into you. You both collectively moan into the hot air at the new feeling. Jake waits a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, his cock stretching your walls out in the most divine ways. “Please.” Is the only word you’re even capable of forming in your mind and bringing to fruition, Jake rolls his hips slowly up against you, a deep groan coming up from his throat has your head swimming with lust.

He repeats his movements, slow at first then picking up the pace once he feels the way you're clawing onto his arms. His movements are merciless, his hips snapping against yours, he moans out your name and you moan just from the sound of your own name drenched in Jake’s pleasure. If you could only ever bottle up one sound to hold on to for the rest of your life, it would be Jake’s voice at this very moment. All of the times your mind had wandered what Jake was like in bed, this had exceeded whatever expectation you had concocted, you would have never thought he’d feel this perfect, sounded this beautiful or held you this tightly, never in all of your dizziest daydreams.

His hands never leave your body, as though this were all a dream and he would wake up if he didn’t touch you. You meet his eyes, his necklace and hair swinging in time with his thrusts, a slight sheen of sweat on his warm skin, cheeks rosy, his eyes look full of bliss as he drives into you. “You feel so tight, so fucking good.” He moans, his brows knit in ecstasy. “Gah, you’re huge.” You whine, clamping your eyes shut, your legs squeezing tighter around his hips, the change in position allowing Jake to thrust even further into you, brushing perfectly against your sweet spot. You bite down on your lip to keep the moans from flying out, Jake brings a hand to your chin, “I wanna hear how good you feel, baby.” Jake says, his voice sweet on the nickname, a name you had never been called by him, brings a smirk to your lips, a groan immediately leaving your mouth as he continues his movements, your orgasm fast approaching.

You grip on to Jake’s arm with white knuckles, another arm grasping onto his back, your nails clawing sweetly against his rippling muscles as he thrusts into you, deeper and harder. You both are falling apart at the seams as the pressure increases. Your walls flutter around Jake, he throws his head back, his eyes closing at the feeling of your approaching climax. “Come on baby, let go.” His raspy voice says sending you over the edge and barreling into the waves of your orgasm. You can’t stop the string of curses or the way you pull Jake closer to you, wanting to feel him as close as you can as you let the relief of pure ecstasy pull you under. The feeling of your own climax takes Jake over, spilling into you as he thrusts out of rhythm from the pace he had previously set, his voice carrying out your name in the most erotic way possible as he buries his head into your neck, letting himself lay on you as the two of you search desperately for breath.

You're finally sober to the situation, you and your best friend just had sex. Jake rolls over to rest next to you, both of you staring up intently at the ceiling fan, watching it spin as you both take in what just happened. Replaying what you had both said and done, the thoughts tumbling around in your brain like watching a washing machine cycle and spin. “So… nothing, huh?” you ask, your tone playful with a chaser of fear fully on display painted on your face. Jake only chuckles, “I think it may definitely be something.” He smiles to the ceiling, you let your head laze to the side, taking in Jake in all of his afterglow glory, braving to ask. “Something good?” “Something really fuckin’ good.”

Taglist:

@tripthelight-fanfic

@emsgvf @ageofstardust @dakotadovato @screechesincoherently @gretavankleep37 @strangeh0rizons @capturethechaos @kiszkathecook @jakeslovehandles @depressingdarlin @gretavanfleas

(I adore my taglist, y'all are my favorite 💕)

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thequeenofsastiel · 2 years

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Bad Buddy Episode 12 Review-In which thequeenofsastiel affirms that she absolutely, 100% did not fall for the break up fake out and didn't weep uncontrollably during the song

Okay maybe there was a little weeping.

I was more optimistic about this episode than a lot of people, but I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't nervous. I definitely was. But I should have trusted Aof. Because this finale was marvelous, and an excellent capper on this show.

The beginning was not fun, I'll be honest. My heart sank when I saw that we were immediately doing a time skip. And the fact that it seemed like Pat and Pran had broken up was crushing. By the time the reunion rolled around I had already prepared myself for an ending in which they tentatively decided to start things up again.

Then. Then Pran showed up at Pat's door with a loving, mischievous smile, and I think my brain exploded a little from all the serotonin it released. The flashbacks were very cute, but admittedly bittersweet as well. It's hard to think about all they went through to get to the point where they could be openly in love, only to have to go back to being secret. I'm glad at least that they were able to have friends who knew they were together. It is good that they didn't have to lie to the people closest to them anymore.

Both of them were so funny about pretending to be sad:

It looks like we were all wrong about Wai and Korn getting together, which is a pity, but I wasn't particularly wedded to the idea of them as a couple so I'm not too broken up about it. At least they're friends. And own a bar together. At 23. A year after graduating college. Somehow.

Inkpa! My ship! I'm so happy that they're still together. I'm sad we didn't get a kiss, but we still got them. And while I would love one, I know there's not a chance we'll actually get a spin off about them. I don't think GL shows are a money maker or there would be more of them. But I'm hoping this starts a trend of GL side couples. Inkpa seemed to be popular, at least on here. Whatever else is true, they're definitely my favorite side couple so far.

I'm sad that the best we got out of their parents was grudging tolerance. At least on the part of Ming. Dissaya seemed capable of starting to be happy that her son was happy. And I think the other two parents(who don't have names as far as I can tell) would happily bury the hatchet for the sake of their children.

I really look forward to rewatching this episode. It's sweet to know that the forlorn looks on their faces during the reunion were because they missed each other due to Pran spending the last year in Singapore. The whole time it was like they were two magnets who couldn't stop looking at each other or going near each other.

The ending was precious. Both the first one, in which we got to see them as kids talking through cans(and I'd really like to know whose idea that was), and the after credits scene, with the adorable drinking game and the wrestling foreplay. Oh, and I was a little shocked that earlier in the episode Pran openly gave Pat shit for coming too soon during sex. GMMTV is getting racier. I'm here for it.

A definite 10/10 on this episode, despite the pain it subjected me to in the first 20 minutes. Honestly, I think the pain worked, actually, because the payoff was excellent.

I think I have to give the whole series a 10/10. The acting was brilliant, the chemistry was fantastic, and, I can't lie, I love that I got to experience a gay version of Romeo and Juliet, with a happy ending. Also, you know, better in every way. This is definitely the BL show that I'm going to recommend people unfamiliar with the genre start with.

I had a great time getting to discuss this show with all of y'all, especially @heretherebedork and @absolutebl. Thanks to everyone who has read and reblogged my posts; it means a lot. I hope we continue to get content this excellent.

Also it'd be nice if we got a special episode in which Pat and Pran get to actually live together and be openly accepted by their parents and get married and stuff, but I'll try to not be greedy.

#bad buddy #bad buddy spoilers #bad buddy episode 12 #patpran #pranpat #inkpa #inkpha #bad buddy reviews #my reviews

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princeanxious · 4 years

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Yo, are y'all americans okay? I've been seeing a lot of post like "reblog if you think saying i love you is okay!" Going around the accounts i follow and,, u okay?? U don't do that there??? Its not normal to say that in a non-romantic way??

hahaha nope! we aren’t okay. Long ramble about Why underneath the cut!

I’d say its semi-well known(and this is me making an experience-based guess here) by at least those of us americans who are seeking help with a variety of mental health issues and by those who study sociology and obviously those who do research on it here, that americans(while not the only country to be like this of course) live in a culture that for the longest time overwhelmingly prioritized family and (i’m completely guessing here) Older religious values which are at least where I live, focused on things like church, family, and marriage, and strict (usually expected to be life-long) monogamy.

So like.. When ya grow up surrounded by adults influenced by that way of life, who expect you to fit their values and reflect them and spend your whole childhood either teasing you about the ‘cute boy’ you talk to all the time or the ‘pretty girl’ that hugged you the other day; or they get real high up, expectational, and vigilant about your best friend of the (at least what /they/ assume is)opposite gender who gives you hugs or even lays next to you when you hang out because they Expect your friend and you to ‘make a move’ on eachother when the parents aren’t looking. Its only in Very recent years that that has shifted a little, and only really in the current younger generations.

Let me tell you, this shit is INGRAINED into our culture, so much so that no one really questions it because the adults say its just Like That.

Like. For all four years that I was in highschool, I had two best friends. Both female presenting and both just as touch starved as me(though out of all of us, I initiated alot of open affection w/ given consent the most because that was the quickest way to reassure me when I was spiraling or feeling bad) and because I’m dense, it took me far to long to realize something pretty telling.

Because I am an extremely affectionate person w/ the very few people that I trust, hugging, hanging on them, leaning against them, locking arms, spinning, walking to class with them because they made life bearable- all of that was something we all did Every Single Day(and we werent the only ones mind you, but i can only speak from my direct experience).

Four years it took for me to realize not a single kid, friend or stranger or no, /ever/ approached, brought up, or even mentioned anything to do with relationships. Nothing. No one I knew or even came close to knowing ever asked or maybe even let themselves think(or hope, but i’m not that optimistic) that I was single because to anyone else, it was Obvious that I was dating at least One if not Both of my best friends throughout those four years.

I only really realized it at the end of senior year(because I suffer from that fun thing known as peer-forced social isolation, meaning I never really learned to pick up on these things), when one of my best friends told me it directly to my face.

so yeah. America’s social culture is pretty wack. We’re raised on Physical Affection automatically equals Romantic Attraction, don’t want someone to assume your dating said person? don’t be openly physically affectionate with them, greeting hugs and goodbye hugs are the absolute limit. And, god forbid you’re physically affection with a friend who then assumes this means you romantically like them(which sometimes is the case! but god it often isnt), forcing you to wedge a barrier between yourselves till you get that issue figured out(which sometimes it simply doesn’t, and then that bridge is burned with hurt feelings and misunderstandings. and it fucking sucks)

And don’t even get me started on the male-dominated social expectation of gentle and soft = weakness and unmanliness, along w/ the whole social competitive one-upsmanship expection between guys to the point that alot of guys often Don’t cuddle or even fully hug other guys unless it is for absolutely Important reason to do so because they’ve grown up in a culture that tells them that that is Bad.

Its honestly no wonder the average american is, at the bare-minimum, touch starved. Y’know?

So, you can imagine the absolute disconnect and meaning of telling your friends the completely romantic or familial based phrase “I love you!” directly, no?

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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Serendipity (Rated PG13)

Summary: Aziraphale’s best friend Tracy sets him up on a blind date, but the man who shows up isn’t what he expects. (4351 words)

Notes: Written for the @ineffable-valentines prompt ‘perfect date’ and inspired by a post I saw @miraworos reblog on tumblr, which happened to be the exact premise of a story I had written a long time ago for another fandom. So I brushed it off, re-sculpted it, and voila. I hope y'all like it

Read on AO3.

“So … how’re the crepes treating you? Are they everything you dreamed they’d be?”

“Oh my yes! They’re absolute Heaven!”

“They should be. This place is famous for them.”

“Good, because they’re my favorite.”

“I know. That’s why I brought you here. More wine?”

“That depends … are you trying to get me drunk?” Playful blue eyes, twinkling above cheeks darkening from baby pink to dusty rose, meet seductive liquid gold.

Lush lips split into a devilish grin. “Maybe.”

Those blue eyes dip down to those inviting lips and linger there, lost in a daydream of mouths meeting, tongues sweeping, kisses traveling, caressing pale skin … “Well, at least you’re honest about it.”

Wine pours. Glasses clink and the robust red sipped. Fingers snap, and like magic, another bottle of wine appears.

“Now,” the devilish lips ask, “where was I?”

“You heard something in your walls?”

“Oh yes. For days I’m hearing scritch-scritch-scritch, and the pattering of tiny feet on my marble floors morning and night, like little ghosts wearing tap shoes puttering about my flat.”

“Ooo! That’s spooky!”

Subtle shrug. “Don’t bother me. I like spooky. Big spooky fan me. So I look and look. but I can’t find where it’s coming from. And I mean, I look everywhere …”

Aziraphale covers his mouth and giggles, blown away by how drawn in he’s become to this story. Reuben is such a dynamic storyteller. Aziraphale feels like he’s there with him, searching his house for the mysterious scratching that’s plagued him day and night, shivers as his description of them runs its nails delightfully up his spine. For good or bad, Aziraphale is invested now, even though the events of this tale are over and resolved. Reuben pauses his story; chuckles shyly, too; while Aziraphale waits patiently to hear the rest of the saga.

“To make a long story short, I take apart the entire wall unit, and finally I find the culprit – the cutest family of white rats I have ever seen! Momma had made a nest in the insulation and had babies! Five of them! I couldn’t believe it!”

“Oh no!” The tips of a mouth turn down as those shivers make a return trip. “I don’t personally fancy rats. What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do.” Reuben takes a sip of his wine – a 2014 Bogle Petite Sirah. It sounded so scrummy when Reuben ordered it, Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. He had to have a glass, too. And Reuben was not wrong. Its dense blueberry and blackberry flavors compliment the crepes exquisitely. The alcohol doesn’t overwhelm the palette, but it’s racy enough to bring color to Aziraphale’s cheeks. “I adopted her. Named her Rogue.”

“You adopted wild rats!?”

“Turns out - not wild. After a little investigating, I found out that momma rat had belonged to a neighbor who moved out a week ago. They couldn’t bring the rat with them, or they didn’t want to, so they set her loose in the garden downstairs. She ended up getting back in somehow.” Reuben runs his index finger around the rim of his glass. “It may sound bonkers but I admire Rogue. I really do. Abandoned by the family she thought would love and take care of her, she fights and struggles to find a safe place to have her brood, which ends up being the place she was cast out from. I couldn’t just put her on the street.” He sighs, a fond but sad smile crossing his lips. “Reminds me a bit of my mum, to tell you the truth - the unforgiving life she had raising me and my sisters after our father left …”

Aziraphale gasps, that confession wrapping around his heart and giving it a solid tug. He could listen to Reuben talk all night. But he’s not just a great storyteller. He happens to be sweet, funny, attractive (God is he attractive! But, of course, Aziraphale has always been a sucker for hazel eyes like his, with flecks of gold that brighten the irises when the alcohol flows or the lighting is right). And as if that wasn’t enough, he works at one of the most successful (and philanthropic) firms in the city. But he doesn’t wear his wealth on his sleeve, doesn’t flaunt it like a selling point. His shirt is vintage, the wine he ordered costs $20 a bottle, and he came here on the tube. Personality, modesty, good looks, environmentally conscious, a stable career … Aziraphale sighs. In his opinion, Reuben is close to the perfect guy, and this blind date is going swimmingly!

Too bad it isn’t his.

“Oh Reuben …” Lorelei – Reuben’s date – blots her eyes with her napkin. She reaches across the table to touch his hand. Reuben’s eyes flick towards the touch and he smiles brighter.

Oh yeah, Aziraphale thinks, raising his glass and finishing the last of his Sirah. They’re having a fabulous night.

Aziraphale pulls out his pocket watch and checks the time.

9:45.

He’s been sitting at the table next to theirs for over an hour, waiting for his own Reuben to appear. Aziraphale figured out thirty minutes ago that his blind date wasn’t coming. He’s gotten no texts, no calls, no apologies, no explanation why. Reuben and Lorelei might have a glowing future together, but his date for the evening is definitely a bust. The wait staff knows it, too. Every time the waitress stops by, offering to refill his water glass, it’s with a sympathetic smile. She’s long since stopped asking him if he wants to pack up what’s left of his crepes to go.

What’s left.

That’s a joke.

It’s pretty much the whole order.

He lost his appetite a long time ago.

Aziraphale reaches for his cell phone but stops with his hand on his pocket. He’s not going to be that guy. He’s not going to send another text. He’s not going to give this man an easy out, refuses to give him the benefit of the doubt and say, “Well, I guess you got caught up. Text me back and we can reschedule for another time.”

Aziraphale is done.

He just wishes he knew why.

Why doesn’t dating work out for him?

He’s not a bad guy, if he does say so himself. He’s reasonably attractive (at least, he’s always thought so). He owns his own small business, even if it doesn’t necessarily turn a profit, but money isn’t something he needs to worry about anyway. He’s doing what he loves, therefore he’s living the dream.

He’s not asking for much. He’s not looking for the perfect man, just a nice one. One who might share some of his interests like theater, food, music, wine, food, books … food. But on the whole, he wants to find a man who wants to spend time with him, get to know him, who maybe isn’t ashamed of doing cutesy, romantic things, like hold the door open for him, pull his chair out for him, offer him half his desert the way Reuben did with Lorelei.

Reuben.

Aziraphale peeks back over at the happy couple.

As Reuben stares into Lorelei’s eyes and signals for the check, Aziraphale knows that he needs to face facts and be done with this. His roommate Tracy has, yet again, succeeded in finding him a date that’s not interested in actually dating.

Where does she even find these guys?

More to the point, why hasn’t he learned to say no to her?

Unfortunately, he won’t get to gripe to her about it until Monday when she comes back from some spiritualist retreat she went on with their friend Anathema, so Aziraphale has a long, lonely weekend of reading Oscar Wilde and drinking (Irish) cocoa to look forward to until then.

Aziraphale takes one last sip of the lukewarm water in his overfilled glass and decides to ask for the check. He feels awful. He may have ordered a full meal but he’s barely touched it. Plus, even though he’s done his best to be as polite as possible, he has wasted over an hour of their time occupying a table that could have been made available to other paying customers on this busy Friday night.

He prays he has a forgettable face. On the off chance he ever comes in here again, he wouldn’t want them spitting in his food.

He looks around the dining room in search of his waitress – a lovely young red-head with freckles across the bridge of her nose and a permanent pout. He doesn’t see her, but spots a man rushing towards his table – a tall, remarkably handsome man dressed all in black and wearing designer sunglasses (indoors!); cheeks flushed as if he’s been running in the cold; a warm, inviting smile aimed his way.

“Hey there, handsome. Sorry I’m so late,” the man says, pulling out a chair, spinning it around, and straddling it across from Aziraphale in a move that makes Aziraphale’s breath catch. “I wish I could say I was stuck behind a seven car pile-up or something, but I really have no exciting excuse. Not that the M25 isn’t a bitch at this hour, but I didn’t take it so, again, no excuse.”

The man smiles at Aziraphale, waiting for him to laugh at his joke. Aziraphale looks suspiciously back, turning his head left and right, searching for an explanation.

“I … I’m sorry,” he says, addressing the man, mostly through side-eye glances. “Are you are you … looking for me?”

“Yes.” The man extends an arm across the table. “I’m your date for the evening. I’m Tracy’s friend Gabriel.”

“You?” Aziraphale raises an eyebrow. “You’re Gabriel?”

The man’s smile becomes wider in a tense sort of way. “Yes, I am.”

Aziraphale looks left and right again, obviously skeptical.

The man folds his hand on the table and sighs.

“Look, Aziraphale, I know I was supposed to be here at a quarter to nine, and I know you’ve probably called and texted a hundred times. I’m really, really sorry.” He looks down at his thumbs, fidgeting as he speaks. “I know this is going to sound lame, but I got caught up at work, and then my car ran empty. I wanted to call you, but I left my phone at the office.” The man sighs again, deeper, the air leaving his body causing him to flatten a bit. “This has been a pretty shite day, all things considered, and I was really looking forward to this date tonight. I would like the opportunity to make it up to you.” The man looks at Aziraphale from behind dark lenses, a sincere expression of regret on his face, eyes peeking over the frames pleading for a second chance.

Hazel eyes, with so many gold flecks crowding in they practically shine.

“Will you let me try?”

Aziraphale is stunned to silence. He doesn’t quite believe that Gabriel ever intended on showing up at all. But then, why is he here? Did some other plans he made fall through? Did he feel guilty about blowing Aziraphale off and turn around at the last minute? Aziraphale knows he has every right to leave - stand up, say goodbye, and go on his merry way. But Gabriel did show up – the first of three blind dates to even bother – so maybe Aziraphale should give him a chance.

He’s mulling it over when he catches sight of the man staring at him, a flirty smile on his lips that Aziraphale can’t help find alluring.

“Please?” the man mouths, the hands he’d folded on the table finding their way up to his chin to aid in his begging. “Please?”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes to pry his gaze away from the man’s mouth. “Alright. It sounds like you had a hard day. I can’t fault you for that.” The man looks relieved. His smile turns slightly impish, and Aziraphale finds himself giggling without meaning to. “Why don’t we have a nibble and get to know one another?”

Gabriel smacks his hand on the table in triumph. “Great!” he says, reclining back on the chair like a large snake relaxing in the sun. “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret it!”

A hint of a smirk twists Aziraphale’s mouth at the corners as his waitress makes a sudden and unexpected appearance. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, my dear. You have a bit of time to make up for.”

***

“So my mate rings me up, and he’s screaming …” Gabriel gestures with his hands as he gets more into the story he’s telling, and Aziraphale watches, utterly captivated. If Aziraphale thought Reuben was a good storyteller, it’s only because he hadn’t met this man yet. “He’s straight yelling, “They’re everywhere! They’re everywhere! And it’s bloodcurdling, ya know? Like straight out of a horror movie. And I’m trying to pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about …” He pauses to catch his breath in the middle of a laugh while Aziraphale, already in tears, pictures Gabriel sitting at home, listening to his friend Ligur yelling while trying to make out like he has no idea what the man is on about. “And I’m just like, “Calm down, buddy.” But at home, I’m biting my fist trying not to blow my cover. And the next thing I know - bzzt.”

Aziraphale sobers slightly, his eyebrows shooting up. “Bzzt? What does that mean? Bzzt?”

“Bzzt as in the line goes dead. And on my end, the world might as well’ve stopped spinning because I knew what happened.”

“And what did happen?” Aziraphale asks, on the edge of his seat.

“They’d destroyed it! The rats! Those furry little buggers, they managed to knock out the phone system! And not just in my neck of the woods, but the whole of London!”

Aziraphale’s eyes go wide. “That was you!?”

Gabriel points to himself proudly. “That was me! All because …”

“All because you fed a rat!?”

“All because I fed a rat!” Gabriel guffaws so loudly, other diners turn their way to make sure he’s not choking.

“I remember that day!” Aziraphale says, but not too upset since he’s not all that fond of his cell phone. Necessary evil in his opinion. Tracy made him get it so he could field calls from potential suitors. But Tracy, who spends hours on the phone talking to her fiance, was livid!

It gives Aziraphale no small measure of satisfaction to say he now knows the man who inconvenienced her.

“I didn’t know its whole family lived in the building! Extendeds and all! I thought it was just one rat!”

“And what happened to them?”

“Exterminator, I guess,” Gabriel says with a hint of regret in his voice. “Rats are smart, though. Resilient, too. I’m hoping they got away.”

His story brings to Aziraphale’s mind Reuben’s story about the rat in his walls. He looks towards the table where he and his date were sitting, but a new couple has taken their place.

Huh, he thinks. Wonder when they left?

Aziraphale, having ordered a second glass of wine, takes a healthy sip, but the buzz he gets from the alcohol is nothing compared to the one he already has from this date with Gabriel.

“I have to say,” Aziraphale says as the laughter dies down, “I was a little wary about being set up. I mean, you hear so many stories. Best case scenario, you find your soulmate. Worst case, you wind up in the boot of someone’s car. But this is going so well!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” Gabriel agrees, becoming suddenly quiet.

“I’ve never met a real live Pied Piper before!”

Gabriel laughs, but it’s not like before - not as effervescent and carefree. Aziraphale looks down at the empty plates on the table, at the stray pieces of crepes and deviled eggs they’d ended up splitting, not a single full bite left. As it turned out, they both ordered really well. Aziraphale didn’t think it was possible for two things to be so compatible.

He was wrong, pleasantly so.

“I know you had a rotten day but thank you for showing up. This was probably the most perfect blind date ever.” Aziraphale watches Gabriel, concerned that his attention seems to be slipping away.

Before he gets to comment, Gabriel beats him to it.

“Aziraphale, I have a confession to make.”

Aziraphale feels the butterflies that have been dancing in his stomach during dinner drop dead, as if hit by a sudden frost.

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“I …”

“Crowley! Hey! Fancy seeing you here, ya old bastard!”

Aziraphale’s attention pulls to the left, to a man with white hair and dark eyes heading their way. No, Aziraphale amends. He’s going to go past them, to a table on their right since neither of them are named Crowley. Aziraphale peeks at the handful of tables there, but no one seems to notice the man calling over their heads.

No one named Crowley is responding to his call.

He is sort of making a scene. Maybe this Crowley is trying to ignore him?

But the man coming their way seems completely focused on Gabriel.

Aziraphale looks to Gabriel, staring down at his plate and concentrating on it, as if praying this man, whoever he is, will pass them by.

Who could it be to him to elicit such a reaction, especially when it’s obvious he’s got the wrong man?

“Gabriel?” Aziraphale says, worried that perhaps something they ate soured his stomach. “Is there something the matter?”

Gabriel closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Aziraphale, I …”

“Crowley!” The man comes right up to their table and claps a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, hard enough to make him flinch. “How long has it been, huh? Two months? Three?”

Gabriel sighs. He turns to the man looming over him and smiles the strained smile of a man about to commit a murder. “Hastur! Buddy! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Yeah.” The man chuckles. “You look like it is.”

“I thought you were vacationing down under.”

“Well, I’m back now. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” he asks, taking no time cutting to the chase.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel … no, Crowley … says, doing everything in his power to avoid the full intensity of Aziraphale’s confused gaze, “I’d like to introduce you to Hastur. He’s … uh … an old friend of mine from school. Hastur, this is Aziraphale. He’s my … date for the evening.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hastur says, extending a hand. Aziraphale takes it and gives it a shake. It’s cold from the outdoors but not unpleasant. Hastur, on the whole, isn’t being impolite. He’s just oblivious.

As is Aziraphale.

“I’ve been tellin’ this asshat for years now he needs to get off his high horse and start dating again. Nice to see he finally took my advice.”

“Yeah, well, now that I have, why don’t you make yourself scarce so Aziraphale and I can continue?” Crowley grumbles, shooting Hastur several venom-filled glares.

“A’right, a’right,” he says, putting his hands up in defense, “don’t mind me. Just headin’ to the bar anyhow. Ring me up later, Crowley. We’ll go out for a few. Maybe your friend can come with us.”

“Will do.”

“You gentlemen have a nice night.” He bumps Crowley with his hip, winks at Aziraphale, then turns on his heel and heads for the bar.

The silence he leaves behind at Aziraphale and Crowley’s table is so thick, it could suffocate a wild boar.

Aziraphale clears his throat first. “So …”

Crowley follows, a bit softer. “So …”

“Tell me the truth,” Aziraphale says, too emotionally charged to keep frustration from cracking his voice.

“And if you don’t like what you hear?” Crowley looks at Aziraphale’s hands worrying his napkin, as if he’s longing to reach across the table and take one. “Are you going to leave?”

“I’m going to leave anyway. I just want to know who I’m calling the cops on when I get outside.”

“Don’t do that. I’m harmless. I promise.”

“Who are you?”

“Well … as you probably already know, my name isn’t Gabriel,” he says, finally removing his glasses and setting them aside. “It’s Crowley. Anthony Crowley. And I wasn’t your blind date. I’m not the man your friend set you up with.”

Aziraphale moves the napkin to his lap and smooths it, giving himself something other than Crowley to look at.

“To tell you the truth, I had a feeling,” he confesses. “I mean, you don’t seem like the type of man my friend would usually set me up with.”

“What kind of men does she usually set you up with?”

Aziraphale chuckles. “I don’t know. They don’t tend to show up.” Crowley growls, shakes his head in disgust. Aziraphale is flattered by his reaction. But he has to ask, “I don’t understand why? Why did you do this?”

“I stopped in for a drink and I saw you sitting at this table, waiting for your date.” Crowley grins. “I have to admit, I thought you were a looker, so I kept looking. I heard you talking to the waitress, making jokes. You sounded like a nice guy. You told her how your friend set you up, how excited you were. Then I heard you calling, saw you texting, and waiting and waiting and …"

“And you took pity on me,” Aziraphale says, embarrassment wearing a pit in his stomach.

“No, I was angry! I was angry that some dumb fuck got the chance to have a date with such a great seeming guy like you and he bailed. Opportunities like that don’t come by all the time and he threw his away. But I saw an opportunity and I took it. And no matter what you think about me now, I’m glad I did. Because you’re great. You’re really great. And I hope that you’ll forgive me and let me take you out on a real first date.”

The table becomes quiet again - Crowley watching Aziraphale, Aziraphale looking at his lap. The whole restaurant seems to have gone silent, as if everyone around them who has listened to them laugh and talk and watched them share their meal is waiting to see what Aziraphale is going to say. From somewhere off toward the kitchen door, Crowley thinks he sees a few of the waitresses peeking around a corner, watching their table a little too intensely.

“What else was a lie?” Aziraphale asks. “Everything you said over dinner, was any of that true?”

“All of it,” Crowley says. “Everything I said about living in Mayfair, owning a Bentley, taking a permanent gap year, working as a nanny for kicks, being an obnoxious trust fund baby, tormenting my friends with a rat army … here … wait …” Crowley opens his jacket and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He touches the screen, swipes it a few times, then hands it to Aziraphale. “Take a look. Granted I’ve only had this since the recent iPhone hit the bricks, but I’ve got a few pictures on it that should back me up. My Bentley, my flat, a few of my plants …” Crowley ticks photos off as Aziraphale flips through them. “There should even be one or two of the rats. Ligur sent them to me before he ran screaming.” Crowley snickers in such an off-handed way, Aziraphale can’t help believing him. And speak of the devil, next photo up is of a work station covered in black rats rooting through the works and apparently sending London skidding back to the dark ages.

Maybe Aziraphale just wants to believe him, but as far as he’s concerned, Crowley is telling the truth.

“I … I don’t know,” Aziraphale says, handing the phone back.

“What?” Crowley asks, his expression of newly kindled hope falling off his face. “What don’t you know?”

“Yes, you’re telling the truth, but …”

“But …”

“I don’t know anything about you. Not really.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley says, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “But can I ask you a question?”

“I guess.”

“What did you know about Gabriel before you showed up here to meet him?”

“Well, I …” Aziraphale sits there with his mouth open, expecting words to come out that don’t exist, because he didn’t know anything about Gabriel. Not even what he looked like. Tracy told him that she showed Gabriel a picture of him, and that Gabriel would know him when he saw him. But other than that, all he had was Tracy’s assurance that they would work well together. In reality, Gabriel could have stopped by at some point, caught Aziraphale waiting for him, didn’t like what he saw, then turned around and left, and Aziraphale would have never known.

But Crowley on the other hand - Aziraphale has been talking to Crowley all through dinner. Provided he’s telling the truth, Aziraphale knows more about him than he does his best friend, and they used to room together.

“Okay,” he concedes. “You’ve got me. Alright, Crowley. Sure. I would love to go on a real first date with you.”

Crowley reaches his hand across the table and Aziraphale takes it, suddenly recalling the look in Reuben’s eye before he signaled for the check.

Crowley has a similar look.

He raises his hand for the check.

But after not seeing her for most of their meal, their waitress walks over and puts two glass flutes down. Then she pours each man a glass of champagne from a bottle Aziraphale is certain costs more than their meal.

“Uh, waitress?” Crowley calls to the woman before she can walk away.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’s this?” he asks, perplexed by the sudden appearance of alcohol.

“It’s champagne,” she says, as if that isn’t apparent. “The house special.”

“But we didn’t order champagne” Aziraphale points out.

“I know,” she says with a wink. “It’s on the house. Enjoy it. Take all the time you need …”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable valentines #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale

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obliviatemick · 5 years

Text

Ben Hardy Fanfiction | When I Kissed You p. 3

❤ Chapter 3. The Party.

Word count: 1511 words.

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therealbarbxx enjoying my only night in NYC 🍎 this dress makes me look fat?

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colesprouse finally!!!! any lads making you company? (liked by lilireinhart)

therealbarbxx @_tonybel none of your business, dork...

colesprousel @therealbarbxx @lilireinhart baby, come defend your man!

elliebamber_ stunning, darling! 🔥 (liked by you)

Narrator's POV.

The place was packed.

Ben and Barbara had arrived in Ben's car and now he'd left her alone to look for his friend. She stared at the decoration trying not to open her mouth in awe. There was everything you would expect from a NY party: red flowers in magnificent white pots that were lined up in front of every wall, tables full of silver plates with the most expensive looking snacks, fountains that were definitely not full of fruit punch and baskets serving what looked like French patisserie, purple lights that made everything and everyone look eerie yet elegant and sexy... Barb thanked the gods she had bought the dresses she tried on before.

She felt tempted to try one of those French desserts, she stretched an arm and someone snickered behind her back. A group of girls staring at her, whispering and giggling. She reached for the glasses instead and helped herself a drink from the bubbly liquid. It was delicious, she couldn't put her finger on what exactly it was though. Something mixed with strawberry.

"Ah, you found the fountain!", a skinny man with brown hair talked. "Be careful, miss... Some of my funniest moments came after drinking too much of this", he looked familiar, but Barb didn't know from where.

Ben laughed and hugged him by the shoulders.

"Barbs, this is the guy I told you about..."

"Ohhh, you were talking about me, Benny boy?", the guy gave Ben love eyes.

"All the time, babes!", the man said "awwww" and engulfed him in a tight hug.

What the fuuuuuckkk?, she thought. The guys seemed to know each other very well, Ben seemed happy and comfortable around the new guy. They soon started talking low and laughing at inside jokes. Until the girl cleared her throat...

"Ahhh, and you are?"

"The name's Barbara! And don't worry I won't steal your man from you, dude."

"That's what everybody says, but truth is...", he leaned to whisper in her ear. "Ben's a slut!" she almost spits her drink.

"Hey, man! What you saying about me?"

"Just the usual, baby!", he played hurt, a hand on his chest and all that. Barbs instantly loved him!

"Yeah, whatever... Barbs, this is-"

"The kid from Jurassic Park!", she chirped. She finally recognized him and was immediately star struck! "OMG, I'm a huge fan!"

"Oh, God! When will I get rid of this curse, Ben? WHEEEEN?", he put in a disgusted face and screamed dramatically.

"Oh... I'm sorry! Don't you like when people recognize you from that?"

"What? No! I love it!", he grabbed her arm and started walking. "Come, walk with me"

Barbara turned her head to give Ben a confused look. He just snickered and shrugged.

"Ummm, I don't get it"

"Baby, I was just pulling your leg! Recognize me from JP, The Pacific, a Cheerio's commercial... I don't care where from!"

"Roger that!" they were walking to a whole separate room on the other side of the venue. "And... where exactly are you taking me? I thought I was here with Ben"

"Wha-? And I thought you'd said you wouldn't mess with my man, bitch!"

"Heeeeey! I mean, not that I'm no bitch, but wtf?!", he laughed and squeezed her arm.

"Takes one to know one", a wink. "I'm taking you to meet the squad before you drown on that champagne and start taking your dress off"

"Oh, good idea!", she nodded and brought the drink to her lips.

"And btw, my name's Joe"

⭐

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benhardy Last night in NYC was a blast! These two guys asked me for a picture and it turned out weirder than I expected...

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joe_mazzello I thought you liked when I chained you up?

benhardy @joe_mazzello excuse me, sir! There are kids on this app

mrgwilymlee why am I not in this photo?

joe_mazzello @mrgwilymlee sorry, m8 only bros allowed

lucyboynton1 dorks

benhardy @lucyboynton1 @ramimalek are you gonna let her talk to us like that?!

ramimalek @benhardy you didn't include me in the pic so YES!

lucyboynton1 @ramimalek 😜

Barb's POV

"OH. MY. GOD."

I don't know how it happened, but from one moment to another I was sitting ON TOP OF A 20-STORY BUILDING with the one and only, the OSCAR WINNER Rami Malek himself and the rest of the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody, the biopic based on Freddy Mercury's life.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in BhoRap?!"

"I thought you already knew", Ben said matter of factly. "I mean, I played Roger Taylor, how could you have missed that?"

"Yeah, I must've fallen asleep during your parts", the boys laughed at my comment and Joe yelled:

"ROASTEEEDD!", Ben just rolled his eyes at me.

"Ben's famous for not telling girls his roles", Gwilym broke in. "But I'm pretty sure you remember him as Warren."

"Warren?"

"X-Men?", Joe added with a hiccup. It wasn't even midnight and he was already drunk.

"Oh, no. I was never a big fan of X-MEN"

"What about The Pacific?" Rami slid in the conversation. A simultaneous UGHHH filled the table.

"Man, not again!", Gwilym slouched back with both hands on his head.

"Why?" I asked "What's with The Pacific?"

"Nononono, DON'T ASK!", that was drunk Joe pointing a finger at me.

"Well, Barbara... Let me tell you the story of how I was casted in The Pacific miniseries", collective UGHHH again. "Do you want the long version or the short one?"

"None of them, man!"

"C'mon! You'll scare her off..."

"Long version it is, then!"

In the middle of that mess, I caught Ben eyeing someone on the other side of the room. I followed his sight and found a blonde girl standing near the entrance, she craned her neck as if she were looking for someone. Suddenly, he rose from his seat.

"I'll be back in a second"

"Yeah, yeah" Rami answered. "As I was saying... it all started in the year..."

"Is that his girlfriend?" I raised my palm and pointed at it with the other hand in the direction of the girl.

"Oh, who?" Joe perked up at the first sign of gossip.

"Why won't anyone listen to my story?" Rami whined.

"Yeah, man, so sad", Gwilym replied in a monotonous voice, then turned to Joe and I and inquired: "Who's Ben girlfriend?!"

"Umm, Barbs? I thought that was you" Rami said.

"What?!"

"Yeah, I thought the same?", Gwilym chimed in.

"How?! I just met him!"

"Y'all are wrong, though", Joe whispered leaning on the table. We came closer to hear him better. "Ben's girlfriend is..."

The remaining three exchanged nervous looks. Joe looked back at Ben and the girl, then again to us.

"Ben's girlfriend is... ME!" Rami, Gwilym and I yelled at him for his dumb joke. "But you already knew that"

"But anyway...", I started. I wanted to make clear my position in this party. "I'm just asking because I don't want to be the reason why Ben's ass gets dumped or something worse"

"Nah, you're ok", Gwilym assured me. "As far as I know, Ben's single. So relax"

"Welp, whatever!" Joe burped and attempted to stand up "It's my party and I ain't spending it here sitting with you nerds...", he looked around and grabbed a blonde girl by the wrist, then made her spin elegantly. The girl let out some giggles, she was so radiant my self-esteem went down three levels. "May I, Rami?"

"Have fun, man!", he replied but then raised a menacing finger "but not too much, you two..."

"I'm coming for 'ya later, babe!", the blonde blew a kiss to Rami and then walked off with Joe by the hand.

I gave a curious look to Rami, "Oh, that's Lucy, my girlfriend. Sorry I didn't introduce you, Barbs"

"Don't worry! She looks kind" I gave Rami a friendly punch on his shoulder "and gorgeous, you lucky bastard!", he laughed sheepishly, I can't tell for sure but he seemed to blush at my comment.

"Barbs?", I turned around and saw Ben standing by the table. I was about to ask what was up when he smiled and tilted his face down a little, an outstretched hand in front of me. I smiled and took it.

"It'll be my pleasure, Ben"

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Btw, do you think Ben's a good dancer? 🤔

I’ve seen some videos from Eastenders and I’m not so sure lol

THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR LIKING AND REBLOGGING THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER! IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME THAT SOMEONE ACTUALLY ENJOYS MY WRITING ❤

And that being being said, I’m also starting a series of imagines... I’ll be posting them here and on Wattpad as well ;)

TAGLIST: @valeriecarolinaw @rrrogahtaylahhhh

As always: thx for reading!!

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uppercase-disgrace · 5 years

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upsiedaisy #0

Hey y'all! Welcome to a new thing I'm trying out! I'm doing a sort of recommendations post at the end of every week, where I, well, recommend things! It'll range from books to music to food to YouTubers, and I hope y'all will stick around to see if you like any of it. If not, don't worry about it! Just block the tag "upsiedaisy" and you'll never see it again.

With that said, let's get into my recs for the week, shall we?

books

story

First off is an amazing book called Goodbye Days, by Jeff Zentner. This book follows the story of Carver Briggs, a teenage writer in his last year of high school at Nashville Academy of the Arts. Sounds like the dream life, right? I sure as hell'd love to be him, at least before the incidents of this story.

The books picks up after Carver's three best friends: Mars (the artist), Eli (the musician), and Blake (the comedy dude) die in a car crash. Carver blames himself for his friend's deaths-and he's not the only one. Blaming him, that is. Eli's twin sister definitely has it out for him. Plus, Mars's father, a powerful judge, is pressuring the district attorney to open a criminal investigation into Carver's actions.

Luckily, Carver has some unexpected allies: Eli’s girlfriend, the only person to stand by him at school; Dr. Mendez, his new therapist; and Blake’s grandmother, who asks Carver to spend a Goodbye Day with her to share their memories and say a proper goodbye to his friend.

Soon the other families are asking for a Goodbye Day with Carver, but he’s unsure of their motives. Will they all be able to make peace with their losses, or will these Goodbye Days bring Carver one step closer to a complete breakdown or—even worse—prison?*

my take

I fucking love this book. I actually first read it about a year ago, and it stuck with me for a long. Ass. Time. The characters in it are very real- I see aspects of myself and others in each and every one of the people in Goodbye Days.

The book is an emotional rollercoaster- and I don't mean that in a bad way. The sort of teenage nonsense that we all get up to is perfectly incapsulated in this book (take "squirrel rodeo", for instance)- along with deeply philosophical questions about the nature of death.

"The spinning world and the burning sun don’t care much whether we stay or we go. It’s nothing personal.” -Carver Briggs

And even with all that, it's not a depressing book. Not in the least. Goodbye Days is about death, for sure, and it hits some hard topics, but it keeps things light and, I think, reminds us that life is a treasure that we should make the most out of.

problems:

inevitably, this book talks a lot about the uncertainty of what comes after death, so if that's not really your thing, I wouldn't recommend this book for you. there's also a scene in the book where a gay character ends up being outed after his death without his consent, which definitely wasn't my favorite. however, I think the scene was handled in a really mature way.

music

Who?

This week's recommendation is Left at London (/@/), a transgender songwriter/singer maker who weaves lyrical and musical magic. She's got two albums out, 💜 and Transgender Street Legend Vol. 1

/@/'s songs have an indie/alternative vibe to them. She accompanies her amazing voice with guitar. Guitar actually isn't usually my favorite instrument (don't tell my friend Caleb), but when /@/'s voice pops up in my playlist I instantly recognize it and hella appreciate it.

youtuber

who?

Erin Timony is an ASMR YouTuber who goes by Goodnight Moon ASMR. She creates these super rad fantasy videos for her ASMR video series, Babblebrook, and you can really see all the work that goes into them. The props and makeup looks and hairstyles for each video are out of this world amazing.

She also creates regular ASMR videos, where one of her most lauded are her tracing ones, as far as I can tell. (My personal favorite is her rambing in the rain video). Erin starts every video by hoping that those watching are doing very well today, and she's just generally a very sweet person.

I hope you guys enjoyed this experimental first post of the series! Let me know what you guys think! I'll be reblogging it a couple times over the weekend so everyone can see it. Love you lots!

#upsiedaisy #upsiedaisy 0 #goodbye days #jeff zentner #left at london #/@/#erin timony #goodnight moon asmr #babblebrook

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charmed- · 6 years

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Hey Charmed Fandom

Hey guys, long time no post (sorry, life has hit me like a bus, I hope I can make it up to you guys soon)

So, I'm sure a lot of you, if not all of you, have seent he trailer for the reboot of our greatly loved and cherished show by now.

I know a lot of you are not happy what what we've seen (so far) and that's totally fine and I can respect that. I get exactly where you're coming from. I have a few things I want to say about the whole situation.

But I have also seen so much hatred towards the new cast members. Especially for the fact they are not white. And I am seriously disappointed. You have every sing right to be mad the original cast is not back and that the networks did not listen to your views and opinions, but a lot of you need to chill the f**k out.

I've seen so many racist comments and sh*t about these ladies. That's not cool. Honestly, f*ck y'all for that. As a latino, I am so sad that so many of you will weapnize these girls skin colors and ethnicities into your anger and outrage over a damn show to. It's bullsh*t and I am sick of it.

Most of y'all are bitter the original cast/story is not in the reboot, I get it and tbh I was too at first, but c'mon, who wants to watch the same story over again. Besides, we all know, as of 2018, no matter what the og cast as said, they are not on good terms and a revival/reunion is just not going to happen. These girls are not to blame for it.

And another thing. Being a latino, I know first hand, that not all latino people look the same. Hell, my siblings and I look NOTHING alike. We come in all colors. So for you people saying Macy is "too black", y'all need to chill the f**k out alright. Alyssa is most definitely not the same shade as Shannen/Holly/Rose but y'all never complained about that. Shannen literally has nearly black hair and blue eyes, nothing like the other women on the show. And again, I heard no complaints? Not all races and ehtnicities look the same. As someone who has gone through life hearing people tell me I am "lying" that my siblings are my siblings because they have darker skin than me, it makes me sad that you'd imply that people cant look different and be related. Also, that you would use something such as race as a weapon against someone. That’s royally f*cked up.

Btw, for you folks who think this show is "propaganda" and "pc" because the cast is not white, shut up, white is not the default. Everyone deserves inclusion. A story can be told through different races/genders/sexualities/etc. Get a grip.

It just makes me super angry that these girls, WHO HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG BY THE WAY, are being targeted with racial slurs and sh*t. Stop, be respectful, and don't be a racist, it's not that hard.

Now that is out of the way.

You can hate this new show (though let's be real you have yet to see it, a trailer cannot do an entire show, that hasn't even been filmed yet, justice), that is well and fine. You have every right. Do you. But don't attack these girls for doing their job. They are all clearly really excited about it, give them a chance to show you what they come up with.

I also want to ask that charmed fans out there, be respectful of others who have a different opinion of the new show. You don't wanna watch it? Don't. You don't like the new story? Cool, great for you. You wish they brought the old cast back in some way? Me too, but sorry guys, it's not gonna happen. But don't go telling or charmed fans they are fake or disrespectful for wanting to check the new show out or supporting it, that's childish adn you aren't some snowflake for being "OG CHARMED ONLY!!! THE ORIGINAL POWER OF THE THREE IS THE ONLY POWER OF THREE!!! THIS IS SJUST A BAD COPY!!!" Ya, cool for you, go eat a snickers and watch the original show.

This show does not negate/erase the old show. Let me repeat, THIS SHOW DOES NOT NEGATE/ERASE THE OLD SHOW. The original show will still be there. It always will be.

If this reboot sucks and crashes & burns, guess what? The original Charmed will still be there.

If the new show does great and gains a great group of fans, old and new, guess what? THE ORIGINAL CHARMED WILL STILL BE THERE.

Let's at least give this show a try. It is a new and fresh spin on the original story.

I've also seen a lot of you complain about the trailer, and cool, you can do that, but don't claim these girls are "terrible" actresses from ONE teaser trailer of a PILOT. Give them a chance The original pilot for the original show was awful, not just some of the acting. Don’t base an entire show off of a pilot trailer, or even a pilot for that matter.

As for people saying the cgi is “bad” and was better in the 90′s version, lmao y’all are just salty and lying let’s not even front. But still, they JUST got a budget from being picked up, give them the opportunity to impress you. CGI has come a long way, I’m excited to see what the magic looks like in this one.

One thing I don't like the "feminist" angle they are pulling with the new show, that is no fault of the actresses, blame the cw for that choice of wording, because we all know damn well that the original show was all about feminism for it's time. This is a new time, feminism changes with time, I hope people understand that. Many will argue the original show wasn't as feminist as it could have been, of course, I agree, but in the time that it was, if was very much feminist. Don't let these new headlines about the new show being big on feminism, diminish the fact the original show was all about strong and powerful women that supported other women.

I know some of the old cast is not on board with the show, that's fine, they have every right. But you don't see them attacking these ladies for telling their charmed story with this new show, so you shouldn't either. Wish them well. Shannen and Holly both have, despite Holly not being in very big support of the show, she wished them well. It's called respect you guys, c'mon.

Let them have their shot. Shannen/Holly/Alyssa/Rose got their shot, let these ladies have theirs.

Be respectful. If you don't like something, or even everything, about the new show. Totally cool, 100%, but don't attack these women on twitter and be d*cks about it. The original show didn't go anywhere, it is not erased. Just say your piece, respectfully, and move on.

And I'm not here to start up arguments. Nobody is right and nobody is wrong, everyone has right to opinions. But even still, you don't need to be cruel about it. Don't go trying to make these girls lose their jobs they are really excited about and their show cancelled, y'all are being petty.

And a lot of people are angry that the new cast said they haven't seen the old show. Though I'm sad they haven't, mainly because I want them to feel the magic I felt growing up watching it, which I'm sure a lot of you can relate to, it doesn't mean they are being disrespectful to the original because guess what? This is a new show (WAHH, OMGGG??? WHO KNEW) These new characters have nothing to do with te characters from the original show. I don't see what people are so stuck on that. It's like you cannot grasp the point of the show being "another take" on the original story, it's not that hard to understand.

I mean let's be honest, if they tried to be too much like the original, y'all will roast and complain. If they don't make them anything like the original, y'all will still complain. It's a lose/lose situation when you're bitter about it. If you go into it with an open mind, you might like it. And might not and that is okay.

If you love the original charmed so much, great, go watch it, tweet about, tweet the stars about it and tell them how much you appreciate and love these characters (without attacking the new characters/show). But don't belittle these new ladies and tell them they are "ruining" the og show, because they are not. And be respectful to them, wish them well, if you'd like, and move on. Don't have something nice to say to them, don't say a god damn thing at all to them.

Also, if these ladies block you on social media, I'm about 98% sure you deserved it. The charmed fans I have seen, are being cruel to these ladies, without any reasoning and it's not cool. Don't be a brat because you didn't get your way with how things turned out. Wish them well and move along.

BTW This blog is and always will be about the original Charmed, that won't ever change. But I hope that you guys welcome this new show and it's cast with an open mind and open heart, I know a lot of fans will. But I also know some won't. I hope they do though because hey, they just may surprise you.

Please don't reblog this and start to argue, I'm not here for it, I just wanted to state my word on the negativity and hope that we can all be respectful. This isn’t a “you’re wrong, I’m right!!” post, I’m just asking you guys be open and be respectful.

Now, I'm excited for this new show and I hope you guys are too. I'm sure these ladies will work hard, along with the rest of the cast, to bring you something magical. I wish them well and look forward to what they have to offer to the Charmed universe.

I think Macy will be my favorite sister, what about you guys? :)

#I'm sorry if this is long I just needed to say that #tired of y'all racists coming out of the woodworks #I know most of the fandom is not like that but some people are and they're just exposing themselves so let them #be nice to these ladies #and be nice to each other okay #I'm not tagging this #I'm not here for you bitter og fans coming at me for having a positive attitude on the reboot y'all can kiss my ass

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dark-muse-iris · 2 years

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I posted 120 times in 2021

54 posts created (45%)

66 posts reblogged (55%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.2 posts.

I added 95 tags in 2021

#iris replies - 33 posts

#iris rambles - 22 posts

#queue: fond memories - 7 posts

#iris answers - 7 posts

#suga - 5 posts

#min yoongi - 5 posts

#yoongi - 5 posts

#thicchaco - 4 posts

#ateez - 4 posts

#dreamcatcher - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 84 characters

#it's more like round 4 where you're both too hot to care about anything but the vibe

My Top Posts in 2021

What kind of stuff are y'all reading these days?

Have you read anything worthwhile? (in any genre) I'd love to have some recs for books or fanfics and I'm very open-minded. I have some vacation time coming up next month and want to feel inspired.

20 notes • Posted 2021-11-19 22:13:35 GMT

Holiday Tips for Tense Gatherings

It's that time of year again when a lot of us have to face families who don't unconditionally accept us as we are. If you're a mental health sufferer with a family time trigger like I have, here are twelve tips to get you through:

Establish a check-in buddy prior to the family gathering. You and your buddy will exchange 1-2 texts each throughout the day to serve as a tether to remind each other that someone (who isn't at dinner) deeply cares. I recommend check-in buddies who know and/or share the family trauma triggers you have.

Eat something small before the big meal so you're more relaxed. This is especially helpful for anxious people. If you're hungry AND anxious AND trying to blend in at the same time, then you're more likely to go "OH FUCKKK!!!! I'M SO DUMB!!" every time you say something awkward. Don't make it harder on yourself than it already is, dears!

Carry a stimming tool or a stone, coin, trinket in your pocket. When you get nervous or feel an unwanted emotion, touch the item to reground yourself and keep from spiraling. ADHD jewelry like spinning rings are great for this.

Safe topics to discuss: 1) Compliment the women/femmes on their choice of accessories (especially if they don't normally wear them), 2) Ask about housing projects like reorganizing a child's room, a new set of shelves, a reorganized garage, etc. 3) Discuss new hobbies acquired in the last year, 4) Talk about future vacation hopes/plans (these can be fake!), 5) Ask how a dish was made and whether the recipe is easy to follow (implying you'd like to cook it at home on your own).

If a family member asks why you haven't found a partner, gotten married, had kids, moved in a house, etc. you can say "I've been focusing on my health this year." Do not give your family an answer as to why you're not meeting their standards. They should be thankful you're still alive and able to share a meal in the first place.

If someone says something fucked up and it's a generalized statement about a group of people, try to leave the room to avoid discovering how many people agree with them. Go to the bathroom and wash your hands for a full minute. Take a step outside. Run to the mailbox. Go check on the family pet.

If you're LGBTQ+ and you're still closeted (especially if you're under 21), you do not have to come out even if your community is being attacked in conversation. I've seen an increase in hostile comments from some communities and I cannot stress enough how important safety is when it comes to coming out to family. If your family is prejudiced and own guns or have a history of violence, it's far better to come out over phone/text where you don't run the risk of being physically attacked or brutally kicked out of a home. Underage LGBTQ+ are still being put out on the streets by their families who claim to love everyone but deep down can't accept having a queer kid. Please understand the legal limits at play when it comes to help. Elders who are financially independent like me are not allowed to foster/adopt LGBTQ+ kids in several states unless we're straight-passing with opposite gender partners.

If someone says something fucked up to you directly and it's an attack or shaming maneuver, give a confused expression on purpose and then ask them to repeat it. If they double down on being an asshole, turn it on them by framing their intrusion as an unwanted act that's ruining the holiday cheer. Do not defend yourself or assume a defensive position because that'll only validate their claim. Instead try, "What does that have to do with Thanksgiving? Are you really trying to ruin dinner when we haven't seen each other?" It helps to ask that question in front of whoever cooked the meal.

Wear good walking shoes and a coat in case you end up in an emergency panic situation and you're unsafe and need to leave. If your family is emotionally abusive or worse and you're not living there, then leaving dinner early should remain on the table always. Staying to be shit on will only result in more billable therapy hours. It helps to have a rideshare service app loaded on your phone or have bus fare in your pocket in advance. You may not need it, but the preparedness will help your nerves. If you actually end up in the situation of needing to leave, then notify your check-in buddy and share your location with them while you're in transit. Go to a safe place, like a friend's house your family doesn't know, or a public place where you can walk and distract yourself (like a retail location with long aisles and different departments).

Have a self-care plan in place when you get home. I recommend activities that boost serotonin or create feelings of safety like exfoliating and massaging your legs and feet, then cuddling with a warm weighted blanket, a cup of tea, and an old movie you love. If you come home and you're on the brink of an attack or you're foggy and marinating in fucked up childhood memories, take a shower--even if you showered already that morning. If you can, get your head wet and visualize washing off your family. I've been able to stop a lot of panic attacks from washing my face.

If a blow up happens at the gathering, cut contact with the offending party and their partners (who may try to act as intermediaries) for at least three days. Do not engage, do not answer calls or texts. Do not vague-post drama about the event on social media (on any accounts). Completely withdraw from all accounts your family knows about. This is a safety maneuver that gives your body time to re-establish stability so you're not stuck in a fight-or-flight situation. It also cuts you off from being someone else's energetic food supply. Note: Wait at least a few hours before privately venting to trusted friends. I've found that if I vent immediately after it happens, it keeps me in the emergency longer and makes recovery more difficult.

Most importantly: Remember that your worth is not determined by other people. The family members making snide comments about selfishness at the dinner table have never witnessed the late nights you spent helping others in your *chosen* community where you have made a better home. You can choose to only invite in those who back you up and support you. You can outgrow the past and learn from it, thank it, and then let it die. You can live and thrive and be happy in spite of where you're from, who you were born to, and all the experiences you faced when you were too young to steer the ship.

Hope you all take care and know that you are loved and supported! Sending you all a warm hug. <3

20 notes • Posted 2021-11-25 17:44:45 GMT

Saying goodbye to a General Hospital superfan, my grandma, who passed today

Today, my last grandmother departed her body after a long struggle with dementia. Although she could no longer communicate with her family, she hung on for two days with the aid of astute hospice staff until her children could say goodbye to her in person. She went as peacefully as her countenance had always been, and for that I'm thankful.

I'm sharing her passing here because she was one of the first to teach me about women's roles in fandom and the power of slow-burn dramas. She was a seasoned consumer of the nail-biting suspense that comes from having one devoted ship, that pair of characters you want to last through thick and then--FOREVER--only to witness that ship get dashed on the rocks in a chaotic, mid-season cliffhanger.

You see, my grandma was an avid fan of daytime soap operas. She was a hard General Hospital stan since the 1980s and not only memorized the story arcs of generations of characters like they were her own family, but she kept current on the actors' career movements by reading soap opera tabloids you can still buy in the grocery store line. She taught me which tabloids were good and which ones were trash for following soaps.

After decades of watching the series, she was keen at predicting the twists and turns of any story arc. I didn't know why that mattered so much as a child until I learned it was sporting for her to be in everyone's business. But it wasn't enough to know what was happening with her faves. When the writing proved her right again the following week, she'd offer new critiques to the tinfoil-wrapped television set, stamping out her cigarette in the ashtray next to her bed. Had she been given different opportunities other than being a textile worker and mother of two in a small town, she might have given those writers a run for their money.

She was not only the first critic I ever met, but she was also the first hardcore shipper I ever encountered. She had a MAJOR crush on the character of Sonny Corinthos: a cold, calculating mobster played by Maurice Bénard, an actor twenty years her junior. The age gap never slowed down her devotion, even when my grandma was put on oxygen years later. It was Sonny into the sunset, no matter what crimes he committed season after season. She watched her man bounce from lady to lady and would not only judge his conquests like a marriage counselor who sees the trainwreck coming in advance, but she held hope for YEARS that he would go back to the ex who had been his best match, Carly (played most notably by Laura Wright). She wanted that ship to sail even after Carly remarried and had another man's baby--which is exactly what happened around the time I was in college. 🤣

My best memories with my grandma were after school when soaps would come on. My sisters and I would walk to the corner store, buy a Hostess honey bun, then run back to her small, one-bedroom rental and ask, "What did we miss last week?" Because we KNEW we had missed a ton if it had been more than two days.

"Wellllllllll....." she'd say, and that was the start of a wild recap. We'd hang on to every word like it was the best gossip in town. For a middle schooler first dipping my toes into soap operas, I didn't know how expansive organized crime story arcs could be--not until my grandma taught me what I was missing. At that age, I didn't see any value in witnessing steamy infidelity on screen until it magically played out in some explosion or hostage situation twenty episodes later. But my grandma always saw it coming like a daytime soap opera oracle. She would not only know when shit was about to hit the fan, but she knew how the jury would rule on the future court case and how the town of Port Charles would take the news.

It's been a lot to think on for me today. I never told my grandma that I was writing stories as ridiculous and far-fetched as her soaps. By the time I had any confidence in telling anyone how I was spending my free time, the dementia had set in and she had been relocated to a senior living facility that had restricted visitors in order to keep her safe throughout the illness. I don't live with regrets for things outside of my control, but I've missed her a lot since that time and always hoped someone had left General Hospital on for her.

It's hard to lose another family member in two years without the chance to say goodbye like I hoped. It doesn't get easier. As I'm unable to go home, I'm going to spend some time writing and doing things she loved to remember her.

23 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 06:57:06 GMT

Thank you!

Thank you to everyone who shared feedback on AO3 and Tumblr (including tag rants) during the last 18 months. It means a lot to have a reader invest the time even if they're not sure the creator will read it or respond. It's my hope to continue sharing stories for readers like you few who showed kindness without thought of immediate reward.

I read many of the messages at times when I was at my lowest point and unable to write anything. As of today, I've cleared the AO3 mailbox, replying to several messages that were over 10 months old. I've also queued some reblogs of feedback I saw in the last year and responded to those.

26 notes • Posted 2021-11-10 15:54:00 GMT

bruuhhhhhh

51 notes • Posted 2021-11-09 02:03:06 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i'm DYING over here at number 1

0 notes

bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years

Text

Anniversaries (Children Part 7)

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1697

Summary: Tasha is 11 years old, and it's time for her to go to Watford.

Read on AO3

Baz

“Oh, stay away from the catacombs. That place is disgusting,” Snow adds as he turns the car around another curvy bend.

“Stay away from the merwolves,” I say. “They’re terrible.”

“Is there anything good about Watford?” Tasha says with a smirk and raised eyebrow.

Simon scoffs. “Of course. The classes, the teachers, the food, being around other mages. But we’ve already been over all that. We’re just giving you important tips.”

“Well, you’re sort of bumming me out for my first day of school.”

I reach back to pat her leg. “Sorry, darling. We just want you to have the best time there.”

“No, you’re projecting your nervousness about me going to school into needless advice.”

I lean back. She’s sitting in her seat with her arms crossed and a smug smile. I narrow my eyes. “You’ve been talking to Aunt Penelope.”

“Yeah. She says you’re both worry warts.”

Simon grumbles, lip jutted out in a pout. “My best friend is bad mouthing me to my daughter. Wonderful. And, we’re here!”

He pulls in front of the Watford gates. I can sort of see the buildings from here. They’ve added one more since my time there. It’s modern looking, relatively tall and made of glass and steel. It’s where they teach more Normal subject classes, so Watford students feel more ready for the modern world. Though the Old Families kicked up quite a fuss, most people agreed it was necessary. Mages need to know magic but also how to just live normally. But there’s still the Whitechapel, and the Weeping Tower, and the Wavering Wood, of course, Mummer’s House. At its core, it’s still Watford.

We climb out of the car. I wake up a dozing Ebb. All four of us stand at the fence. Tasha goes right up to bars, gazing at it with wide eyes. She’s been here before a few times. But she still gets this dreamy look in her eye every time she sees it. It reminds me of the way Simon looked when he first came. But when I glance at Simon now, he looks through the gate very scared, mouth all twisted and quivering. He hasn’t been back here since...well, since the Mage. I take his hand.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “He’s not here anymore. He can’t hurt you.”

He squeezes me tightly. “I know. But still...being here, it brings it all back.”

“I know, love. I know.”

Ebb walks up and takes Snow’s other hand. “It’s okay, Daddy,” he says. “It’s not bad anymore, right?”

Simon smiles, his tight grip loosening on my hand. “No, bud. It’s all good now.”

“It’s so awesome!” Tasha shouts, skipping over to us. “Every time I’m here I can feel the magic. There’s just, there’s so many of us here. It’s not like anywhere else.”

Snow grins, as do I. We know what she means. Simon’s told me that the magic feeling was one of his favourite things about Watford. It’s one of mine too.

“No it’s not,” Simon sighs. “And you’re going to love it here, Tasha. I know you will.” He lets go of Ebb and my hand. “I should go get your bag.” He walks off, looking taller than he did a mere few minutes earlier.

I kneel down so Tasha and I are at eye level. She looks absolutely giddy, hazel eyes sparkling and teeth showing in a grin. I reach forward, placing a hand on her shoulder under her side braid.

“Now, Tasha, I know you’re Dad and I have been over worrying, but we’re still very happy for and proud of you. I think you’ll love it here. However, if you ever feel bad or lonely or sad, don’t hesitate to call us. We’ll always be here for you. Okay?”

She rolls her eyes while still smiling. “I know, I know. Don’t worry, I’m a big girl, Papa. I can take care of myself.”

I sigh, tilting her chin to look me right in the eye. “But here’s the thing, you don’t have to. You’re only eleven, darling. You’re still a kid and should get to act like one, even while you’re living away from us. Dad and I were forced to grow up far too fast at your age. We had to deal with a lot of stuff all on our own at Watford that we shouldn’t have had to. So never feel like you can’t talk to us, or that you have to cope with anything alone. We’re your parents and we’re here for you. Even when you’re here. Okay?”

Tasha’s expression softens, and I think she finally gets it. She nods slowly. “Okay, Papa. I’ll remember that.”

“Good. Now can I have a hug? Or are you too big for that?”

She smiles again. “Never.” She throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I laugh and squeeze her back. I try to memorise the feel of her embrace. I’ll need to remember when I inevitably miss her too much. Suddenly, two other arms try to engulf us. We both look down at Ebb, trying to hug both of us at once with his relatively small eight year old arms. I laugh and bring him into the hug with us.

“Hey! No group hugs without me!” Simon shouts before embracing all three of us. We sit there for far too long. Because this is the last time we’ll be able to do this for awhile. All four of us together. Even though I know we’ll see Tasha again soon, I have to will my heart from breaking.

Slowly, we pull apart, Simon unsurprisingly the most reluctant. He subtly wipes away a tear. I can’t blame him. I’m a breath away from crying too.

“Alright,” Snow says, voice only cracking a bit. “Got all your stuff? Laptop? Books? Wand?”

Tasha nods rapidly. “Yup, yup, and,” she opens her jacket and pulls out her wand, “yup!”

“Okay, okay, good. We’ll bring anything if you forgot it.”

“I know you will. But I’ve checked my list five times, I’ve got everything.” Simon’s face twists slightly. Tasha walks forward, taking his hand. “You can still come visit me, y’know. You don’t need the excuse of bringing me stuff. I still want you to come.”

I keep myself from laughing. She can see right through Simon. It’s absolutely hilarious and adorable. Simon smiles wryly, then scoops her up in a big hug, spinning her around as she giggles.

He sighs as he puts her down, patting her head. “How did you get so smart?”

“Well, Papa taught me a lot.”

Snow raises an eyebrow. “And what about me?”

Tasha shrugs, unsuccessfully hiding her smirk. “You helped I guess.”

He shoves her head playfully. “Well, you definitely have Papa’s sense of humour too.”

She sticks her tongue out. Which is definitely more of a Snow move than a Pitch one.

Simon, Ebb, and I hand her the luggage and backpack we brought. Ebb gives her his most favourite rock to, according to him, “keep her dreams nice.” She accepts it happily. Simon gives her one last tight hug.

“Now,” he says as he pulls back, “remember, you should learn, but have fun too. Also, be nice to your roommate. You have no idea how you two could end up.” He gives me a small wink. I roll my eyes smiling. Yeah, like the two of us are a common occurrence.

“I’ll remember, Daddy. Love you,” Tasha says sweetly.

“Love you, too, darling.”

She moves over to Ebb and hugs him tightly. He’s crying unabashedly. (We’ll definitely need to have ice cream tonight for him. Well, for all of us.)

“Bye Bye, Tashy,” he mumbles sadly into her shoulder.

“Bye for now, Ebby.”

Once released, Ebb immediately runs to hug Simon, still whimpering. Poor little guy, I’ll hug him later too. She stops at me. There’s a small tear in the corner of her eye. I lean down and wipe it away, and press a kiss to her forehead.

“Good luck, little puff. I love you lots.”

She kisses my cheek in return. ��Thanks, Papa. Love you too”

With that, she walks towards the gate. It opens for her, like it should. Once the guard checks her in, she gives us one last wave and dashes across the Great Lawn without shame. Simon chuckles under his breath.

“I still think she’s worse than Gil,” he says, still holding our moping son.

I put my arm across his shoulders. “Don’t tell Bunce that. She’ll hang it over us for years.”

“Of course not.” He sighs, his head leaninging against me. “Today’s our anniversary, y’know.”

“We got married in the spring, Snow. You’re getting dotty in your old age”

“No no, not that one. Anniversary of the day we first met. When the crucible brought us together.”

“Hm, that’s very true.” I turn to him, one brow quirked. “Would you have guessed on that day that we’d end up here?”

Simon smiles, simply content. “Nope. But I’m glad we did.”

I kiss his lips once softly. And it’s absolutely perfect. “Me too.”

“Daddy? Papa?” Ebb says, still sniffling a bit. “Can we have chicken fingers for lunch? I’m sad. Chicken fingers make me happy.”

I sigh, petting his hair. “Sure, little puff. I think we all need some happy food. Agreed, Snow?”

“Agreed, love.”

We load back into the car. I take the driver’s seat this time. Snow puts on some upbeat pop music, which immediately improves Ebb’s mood. They sing along terribly as usual. It makes my ears hurt, sure, but I’m too happy.

I still remember all those years ago, clear as day. I remember being drawn to that grimy boy with blue eyes and bronze curls holding his stupid red ball. Standing in front of him, little did I know how he’d change my life. Or how I’d change his. Even when I fell in love with him, I truly never thought we’d end up like this. Married, with kids, singing off key Top 40 hits with our youngest after dropping off our eldest at Watford.

And I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.

AN: And that's a wrap folks! Phew, 30 days, 23 fics, it's been nuts! But it's been lots of fun. Seriously I've really enjoyed doing this. Thank you to all the people who left kudos and comments on AO3, and those who liked and reblogged my posts here. You're kind words made my day. Thank you so so much <3

Of course, I'm not done writing snowbaz fics, haha. Now I'll be working on the final kiss fic requests, which I haven't forgotten about I promise! And I hope to publish them in the new year. So look out for those! :D

On a final note, happy holidays y'all :)

#carry on countdown #coc 2017 #carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #children #family #anniversary #fluff #mysnowbazfic

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