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eury--dice · 3 years

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history, huh?

chapter 3: propius

(check the rb for chapters 1 + 2 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Adam was woken at 5 o’clock on the dot with a series of sharp knocks on his door. “Up and Adam,” Gansey’s voice called, making the one stupid dad joke that always set Adam’s blood to a boil. He was too tired to react, however.

“Kindly leave until a later time,” he called, his voice heavy with sleep. “I don’t have class for another three hours.”

Gansey opened the door anyway, striding in with more pep than anyone should have in the morning.

“You’ve made the tabloids, my friend. Your weekend with Ronan finally hit.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope,” Gansey said cheerfully. “‘From America, With Love: Ronan and Adam flaunt friendship.’” He turned on his heel once he’d crossed the length of the room, which Adam could never forget was formerly Malia Obama’s, and seated himself in Adam’s desk chair.

Adam had never been closer to considering strangulation. He elected to shove his hearing ear into his pillow instead.

Unfortunately, the muffled sounds of Gansey speaking still made their way in. “‘Photos: Adam’s Weekend in England,’ oh, that’s boring…ah-hah: ‘New Bromance Alert? Pics of FSOTUS and Prince Ronan.’”

Adam resigned himself to his fate and mentally promised himself a giant cup of coffee. “As long as I’m getting fewer death threats on Twitter, I’m happy,” he mumbled into his blankets.

Gansey ignored him. “Why are you so tired? It’s the hour of kings, time to be awake and alive.”

“I’d settle for dead if it meant I could sleep at this point, to be frank.”

“Please don’t be frank. Be Adam.”

Adam sat up, eyeing Gansey in his wire-framed glasses with disdain. “Any more puns and I suffocate myself with this pillow.”

“Please don’t,” Gansey said, but his eyes had already returned to his screen. While he read through the articles, he continued his line of questioning. “Working on the campaign late last night?”

“Not really,” Adam admitted. “I had a Press and the Presidency paper to write.”

“Just write ‘I’m Adam Parrish’ on a piece of loose-leaf paper to turn it in and you’ll probably get an A. You live it every day, for Christ’s sake.”

“And yet I still need to cite sources in Chicago Advanced.”

“You’d think nepotism would work out more in your favor.” He flicked to a fresh article, a gesture Adam only recognized from all the other times Gansey had done it. “Luckily, I think the press is eating this one up.”

Adam grimaced. “Fantastic.”

“Not-campaign-ruining, you mean.”

“That too, I suppose.” He wanted nothing more than to flop back against his pillows and get the sleep his body so desperately craved after being jet lagged for a week, but he fought the urge.

“That _ People _exclusive takes the cake, I think. I didn’t realize how much you cherished your relationship with Ronan.”

“Fuck off, please. Or end my misery.”

“No to both. Why are you even taking that press course?”

Adam slid out from under his blankets, rolling his shoulders to try and wake up more. “Curiosity, I guess. It never hurts to learn more of what not to do.”

Gansey looked up from his phone to level a glance at Adam. “And what have you learned so far?”

“…Don’t have a sex scandal?”

“You _ would _need someone to tell you that.”

_ “Hey,” _Adam said, affecting outrage.

Gansey lifted his thumb to run over his lower lip, tilting his head consideringly. “One of us three will probably have a scandal before your mother’s second term is up.”

“If there is a second.”

“Chin up, young padawan. With you working on it we’re guaranteed.”

“I don’t know, Gansey,” Adam replied. “I don’t think I’m the good luck charm you believe in.”

“Of course you are,” Gansey said. “We won the first time, no?”

Adam glanced exaggeratedly around the room and to the phone in Gansey’s hand. “I’d say so. That or we’re about to get questioned very thoroughly about the the events of last three years.”

“Don’t make me cut you off on the true-crime videos.”

His eyes narrowed, focusing on Gansey. “Don’t you dare.”

“Blue agrees, anyway,” Gansey said, successfully deflecting topics. “Said there’s a ninety-four percent chance you’ll get into a sex scandal before the general.”

“Both of you date more than I do, why am I the one who’s supposedly having a sex scandal?” Once his initial outrage passed, disbelief crept in at the time of day. “Did you just text Blue at five AM and get a response? How the hell did you manage that?”

“She’s been up,” Gansey dismissed. Adam stared at him for a moment, and then Gansey seemed to feel the weight of his stare. His eyes widened almost comically. “Oh, Christ, no, not that. Nate Silver asked for another set of eyes on the Superbowl predictions, and she’s trying to get a shoo-in with them before the primaries begin. I just brought her some coffee.”

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“You’re the only one of us who hasn’t been up all night. You need coffee the least of all of us.”

“Don’t blame me for your bad decisions.” Adam squinted at Gansey. “Were you working on an article all night or something?”

He snorted. “Hardly. They’ve been blocking all of my pieces. Too far from my mother’s politics, too far from your mother’s, too controversial, too critical, all in that order.”

“Thought you were liking the _ Post _gig?”

“On paper,” Gansey dismissed. “I’ve defaulted to writing about Welsh history.”

“Sounds like it’s right up your alley, then.”

“Once again, on paper.”

“How do you even connect the Welsh to the hellscape of American politics?”

Gansey waved a hand. “‘Eternal spirit,’ ‘fighting for honor,’ ‘remembering Glendower and others who set a pristine model,’ et cetera, et cetera.”

“People read that? That just sounds like you in high school spouting off again.”

“Yes, Adam. People read it.” Gansey squinted at his phone again. “Twitter _ really _likes you and Ronan together.”

“We’re exciting,” Adam said dryly, reaching for his laptop. He scanned over his most recent paper while Gansey dramatically narrated replies to the gif of them on _ This Morning. _

“‘Either of them could stab me and give me one of those smiles and I’d thank them,’ Jesus Christ,” Gansey read, “They really love your fake smiles… ‘name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait,’ hm, maybe any other duo? ‘Oh my God, just _ kiss already.’” _

Adam choked out a laugh as Gansey punctuated the last one with a dramatic and uncharacteristic hand wave. “At least it’s working,” he allowed, shutting his laptop once he felt secure about his essay. “Now get out. _ Some _of us have places to be.”

Adam’s phone buzzed on his way out of his cursed Presidency and the Press course.

Somehow, the interest of those around him seemed to pique even higher when he looked at his phone instead of in front of him. It wasn’t a new sensation by any means; ever since starting at Georgetown, he’d felt eyes on him constantly, but the intensity increased tenfold each time his classmates thought he was too occupied to see them staring. He noticed every time, but of course nothing could be done about it.

The name _ HRH shitty bird boy _ popped across his screen. How strange - in only a week, he’d almost entirely forgotten that the name he had (quite maturely) given Ronan in his phone was… _ that. _As he swiped the notification open, he felt a certain amount of trepidation as to what a technology-averse prince would ever text him about.

His harassment and emergency fears flew out the window with the body of the text, simply a screenshot of their tabloid appearance with the added caption of _ youre the nerd and I’m the cool jock. _

_ Competitive yachting? _Adam asked in response, nearly tripping over his own feet while typing.

_ ffs i told them to stop writing that as my preferred sport. _

Adam felt his lips twist against his will.

_ I’m sorry, this is a common problem? _

_ you can’t even imagine. _

_ I appreciate that they consider competitive yachting a regal sport. _

_ status symbols and faux athleticism are the core of the monarchy. _

Adam blinked down at his phone, stopping short abruptly. Persephone, from behind him, adjusted accordingly.

He…hadn’t been expecting this. Any of it. The text, the almost-joking response, the casual statement about the monarchy being ridiculous despite him being in it. Their conversation ended there, and it was probably for the better. He resumed his pace, trying to get to his next class. He almost forgot about the texts, too; save for a rogue screenshot Adam sent him of speculation on Ronan’s presence in Majorca, nothing else went between them.

Sometimes, Adam could _ just barely _ get away with being on his phone during briefings with Maura. He hated to be distracted during them - they were _ important, _he knew that, but all the same occasionally she spent a particularly long time covering an obscure dignitary’s comments and he’d gotten too few hours of sleep to truly focus and someone or other was blowing up his phone.

Maura’s topic of conversation this week appeared to be a series of Buzzfeed articles run on the lack of pets in the First Family, complete with a power point dissecting their points

The glamorous side of politics, truly. Discussing a clickbait series in the West Wing briefing room.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 30 October, 2019, 1:47 pm _

_ if you want a pet chainsaw dragged in a mouse the other day _

_ Ah yes, the mouse. A pet eternally beloved by constituents. _

_ we can’t all have a raven, that would be unfair _

_ Your heights of cool and goth are truly dizzying. _

_ im glad you agree _

_ Modest, too. _

_ it comes with the wealth and fame _

_ As long as you’re being straight with me, feel free to be as ‘modest’ as you like. _

_ i’m the prince of bloody england. i’m straight all the damn time _

_ That’s the biggest lhxemxlp_

His phone slipped from between his fingers, landing with a dull _ thud _onto the wooden floor. Adam stared helplessly at it, a sleek black rectangle hiding between types of oak. But Maura repeated his name, and he suddenly remembered what had made him drop his phone in the first place. He dragged his eyes up, staring at a spot on the sterile white wall just beyond Maura’s head.

“Adam,” she said a third time, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She conceded immediately. “What the hell?”

He felt his cheeks darken as blood found its way up. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips thinned just like Blue’s did, turning into a dark line on her brown face. “Do you even remember what I was saying?”

“Er…” he scrambled. “Don’t mention animals in any public setting?”

She looked at him for a long moment, then picked up a mug of coffee and took a controlled sip.

“Get out?” she said once she’d swallowed her sip.

“I-”

She pointed to the door. “I am impossibly busy. Take your phone and go laugh in private.”

He nodded once, finally, ducking under the table with his spine pressed against the bottom to grab his phone. His fingers closed around it, grip the edge of the wood, and he was up in a second.

He couldn’t regret it.

Because - well, here was the weird thing.

He wanted another text from Ronan.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 31 October, 2019, 12:03 am _

_ it’s finally spooky day in your hell country _

_ Isn’t it 5 am in England? _

_ Do you ever sleep? _

_ bold of you to ask that question _

_ halloween, bitch _

_ it waits for no one _

_ I’m really going to have to advocate better habits. _

_ I understand, you’re enthused for Halloween. _

_ do you even care at all _

_ I enjoy halloween like everyone else. _

_ Though your level of excitement feels a little pagan? _

when the skeleton army rises Jesus will forgive me

_ appreciate this glorious day parrish _

_ I have enough fear in my daily life, thanks. _

_ I filed my own taxes all throughout highschool. _

_ And payed rent. _

_ The horrors of early adulthood. _

_terrifying _

_ terrible i’ll never deal with that shit _

_ You’re the prince, we know. _

_ Do you also not have enough horror in your life? _

of course i do

_ but parrish. listen. _

_ this is the one day a year all the monarchy and parliament dress as they are in life _

_ hideous monsters _

He laughed a little harder at that than he should have.

_ You’re telling me the monarchy plays dress up. _

_ ronan_frankensteins_monser_costume.jpg _

_ matthew insisted. did this on me an hour ago _

_ oh my god _

The makeup _ was _really good, and the monstrous look suited him, but hell if Adam ever said that to him.

He may have saved it to his phone, though, to glimpse Ronan’s green-paint covered skin and crooked, drawn-on stitch smile on his perfectly blank face.

Although Adam certainly didn’t intend to make a habit of texting the Prince of England, when he saw a funny bird or a stupid article or an obscure meme his first thought became _I should send that to Ronan. _And Ronan, clearly, was thinking along the same lines. The sheer number of sole emojis that seemed to tell a Ronan-centric story he received at all hours only affirmed that. And somehow, between all the pictogramme and jokes, he started to learn snatches of information. Declan was a better storyteller than Ronan, Matthew was the only person who could make Ronan attend family dinners ever since their father died, and his mother - the Queen of England, Adam had to remind himself sometimes - drew further away every day.

The problem became that he always wanted to know _ more, _and Adam didn’t know if that was due to his rampant curiosity or something else buried deep inside of him, and he was too afraid of what he might uncover by digging to look.

Adam had very few friends.

Most of that came with the territory of being part of the First Family; nothing made casual acquaintances drift away quite like being constantly surveilled by Secret Service agents and trailed by NDAs. Adam didn’t have time for small talk and coffee, a fact which he sometimes lamented and often loved. Part of this came from the type of friendship he became accustomed to with Gansey and Blue, the all-encompassing type of friendship that took over their minds in spare moments and forged ties stronger than steel between them. He’d probably forgotten how to have normal, casual friends, not friends an outsider would think he was completely in love with. And, perhaps more than anything else, it came back down to Robert Parrish and his heavy hands and ringing words. Adam’s memories of his first few years were scattered and inconsistent, but they filled up a too-large corner of his brain all the same. Blue, who entered his life at the tender age of 5, had won his trust with greater ease than their other peers, and Gansey had done the same in high school. They knew him and what he’d been through, and so they could (platonically) love him for all that he was. When campaigning and political office came into the mix, that full truth of Adam Parrish became a secret to guard like any else.

But, oddly enough, Adam had a third friend: Noah Czerny, the thirty-three-year-old baby of the Senate.

Noah and Adam met through an Aglionby networking event while Adam was a student and Noah a recently-elected congressperson, both green as grass in different ways. Adam, thrown neck-deep into a Presidential campaign, had questions, and most of the time Noah had answers. Although all of the professors had warned Adam to proceed cautiously with Czerny, Adam found nothing to fear. Noah had mellowed out quite a bit from his high school days, becoming a familiar face at political events and a surprisingly-wise piece of advice always at the ready. Despite Adam’s near hero-worship of this brand-new politician, half-Mexican just like him and just as frequent to lose sleep rewriting policies that unjustly taxed communities of color or defunded children’s education, they’d formed an improbable bond. The summer before his sophomore year, Noah let Adam closer to the politics process than even his mother had as he ran for the Senate, and Adam took to it almost at once. A politician twelve years his senior was perhaps not a conventional choice of friend, but Adam seldom remained conventional.

It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Adam to arrive at Noah’s congressional office unannounced, either with business or without, and so when Adam rounded on Noah’s stark, bright, white office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see him ducked over an obscene number of papers.

“It’s Friday night,” Noah said without looking up, barely before Adam had even crossed into the office. As always, the tiny burst of color in the Pride flag deposited in a tourist mug drew Adam’s eye for a long moment before Noah himself did. All Adam could see of him was his brown curls, resolutely held in place even as bent over a desk. “Go party or something.”

“Damn, I didn’t _ think _ this looked like a frat. I knew something was off.” Adam slid into one of the seats across the desk. He had several inches on Noah, but he always felt smaller in those chairs across from the most important legislators in the country. “What’s got you here at eight PM?” Off of Noah’s brief, incredulous look, he amended to _ “this _particular time, I know. You’re salaried. Shouldn’t you…ever go home?”

“I’m trying to get something done so that there’s at least a hope of banning fracking in our lifetimes.”

Adam scoffed quietly, though not for lack of faith in Noah. “Let me know when you’ve cracked the code.”

_ “If, _but sure, I’ll be in contact. Now, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my leaving-the-building question.”

Noah’s eyes flickered shut briefly. “Jesus, Adam, I am salaried by the taxpayers of millions of Americans. I’m not going to slack on them.”

“Fine, but don’t make me drag Gansey in here to make you take a long nap and drink some hot soup.”

Adam’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it; despite it being almost 1 am in England, Ronan could presumably take the blame. Noah asked, “Did you catch the Fox town hall last night?”

Adam grimaced. He’d seen part of it, trying to multitask with his macroeconomics homework at the same time, but instead he’d fallen asleep with his head on the laptop screen. “Part of it. It was a shitshow.”

“You can say that again.”

“I honestly thought that Whelk would pull more support from the extremists. He just seemed desperate last night.”

“Oh, he definitely was.” Noah leaned away from his desk, appraising Adam as though considering his words carefully. “We went to school together.”

“Aglionby?” Adam asked. He knit his eyebrows together. “How did I not realize he went there?”

“The school doesn’t exactly love toting him.”

“He’s older than you, though, right?”

“Yes, Adam,” Noah said slowly. “I’m thirty-three. He’s already announced a bid for President. How old do you have to be to run for executive office?”

Adam scowled. “I just came from class, I can’t use my brain. He was a senior when you were a freshman?”

“Yep,” Noah replied. “We were paired in upperclassmen-lowerclassmen bonding.” His lip curled a little. “He outed me.”

“Wait, _ what?” _

“He outed me to the school,” Noah repeated. He looked back down to the papers on his desk, his voice softening to a barely audible level. “I trusted him, which was a dumb thing to do, but I was a really stupid freshman. Scared, too. He was a friendly personality.”

_ “Fuck,” _Adam said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

“Terrible?” A bit of Noah’s life returned to him. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It was years ago.”

“But then…Whelk, he was the reason you…?”

“He didn’t make my parents react the way they did. They did that on their own. But no, they wouldn’t have known without him.”

Adam shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t possible to like the guy less, if only because of his politics, but he’s done it.”

“Done what? Received the full wrath of Adam Parrish?”

“He very well may.”

“Don’t worry about him. Whelk will be out soon, believe me. I know him. He may have his parent’s money, but he’s barely old enough to hold office and he’s running on fumes.”

“If he’s not, I’ll convince Blue to skew stats until he is.” Noah knew just as well as Adam that that wouldn’t change anything, but it lightened the air anyway. “It seems kind of pointless to entertain any of them. Greenmantle is probably going to win no matter what.”

Colin Greenmantle: former antique collector, congressperson from Massachusetts, and millionaire with the funds to take over the Republican primary, and very possibly the whole election, before any papers were even filed.

“It’s early,” Noah said. “Too early to worry about it. Too early to even be _ talking _ about it.”

Adam slanted a half-smile at him. “Never too early to worry about an election.”

Noah looked back to his papers before broaching the next topic. “I hear you’ve got a job on your mother’s re-election campaign.”

“Once I graduate, and maybe a little earlier, yeah.”

Noah cast a glance around the office. “Are you sure this is the life you want?”

Adam knew he was referring to the constant bustle, the fear of disappointing and harming instead of helping, and the ever-evolving media scrutiny. He knew it was the closest Noah would give to a warning. “I’m sure.”

Noah sighed. “Fine.” He pointed to the door. “But I won’t let you throw your youth away, not this early. After you graduate, Parrish. Go get drunk and make out with someone.”

Adam stood, his frame unfolding and standing tall. “You are a terrible role model.”

“Can’t hear you over the loud music.”

“You and Blue and Gansey - if I die of alcohol poisoning, it’s all your fault.”

“Feel free to blame, so long as you’re out there and not here.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ve made your point.”

“Finally,” Noah called after Adam’s retreating form. But Adam could hear the amusement in his voice all the same.

For someone so allergic and averse to technology, Ronan sure seemed to share a lot with Adam.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 13 Novemeber, 2019, 8:38 pm _

_ bird.m4a _

_ she wont stop nuzzling my head?? _

_ Picking for lice, probably. _

_ God knows you have so many. _

_ my scalp is perfectly clean _

_ Forgive me for abstaining from running my hands over it all the same. _

_ I’ll leave that to her. _

He didn’t always respond, though.

Adam tried not to read into it.

(He mostly succeeded.)

Adam never tired of stepping into the Oval Office. On the Wednesday right before Thanksgiving, he stepped in with the same amount of awe he always had, allowing himself a single moment to glance around at the wide windows and perfectly upholstered furniture. He sat on one of the couches without preamble.

His mother looked up from what was in front of her on the desk and smiled, albeit a tired one that frayed a bit at the corners; Adam had seen a few particularly troublesome foreign dignitaries be escorted away not long before, so he didn’t have to guess at the reason. Ana looked like she belonged to sit right there amongst all the history at that desk, from the sun dipping just beneath her halo of hair straightened within an inch of its life and her stick-straight posture. It might have been a lot at times, but seeing her was a reminder of all the good that came from her position.

She rose and walked to join him, her heels clacking lightly at the ground before she sank onto the cushion beside him and pulled him into a loose hug. Adam had overtaken Ana in height some years before, but there had been a long gap in there as he grew - like one day he was three and a half feet tall and wrapped tightly in her arms and the next he was off to Georgetown and several heads taller. She pulled away after a minute, slowly and bit-by-bit as though savoring her moments as a mother rather than a president. Her hand reached to muss his hair a moment later, and Adam ducked away instinctively before exchanging an identical grin with her.

“God, I forgot how light your hair looks in here,” she said, leaning back a little. “Almost golden.” She tilted her head as though examining him. “Nah. Still brown. But much lighter.”

“How could you forget? The photo here was in _ GQ, _the same article that first declared me the family golden boy.” At the corner of their conversation was the knowledge of where he’d inherited that hair color, as it sure as hell wasn’t from Ana. But he let the thought stay buried, patting the dirt back down with the shovel himself. Their relationship always had an absence in it, and he didn’t particularly feel like deepening it in the Oval Office.

“Ah, so that’s the one I have to blame for your big head,” she responded, reaching for a piece of fruit from the little coffee table. It was a familiar half-jest, borne from Adam’s constant contradicting confidence and imposter syndrome. Idiosyncrasies were just Adam’s style, never one to make things easy for himself. He sometimes wondered if so much of himself conflicted because he tried to walk the middle road so often, balancing his weight over all sides to minimize the damage if the rug was yanked from beneath him, like lying down on a bed of nails: a thousand tiny, dull pains over one sharp, potentially fatal puncture. She smiled again. “Is Noah doing well?”

“For Noah he is. He would barely look up from some new reports on fracking, seems hopeful he’ll be able to garner enough support.”

Ana snorted. “Good luck with that. I’ll be shocked if it reaches the floor for debate.”

“That makes three of us, then.” He nodded towards the desk. “Bad meeting?”

The frown lines on her face deepened. “Don’t get me started,” she drawled, falling back fully against the cushions. After only a moment, she _ did _ get started regardless of what Adam did or didn’t do. “We received the memo a few days ago that a delegation from Sweden wanted to be in contact, right? Fairly standard stuff, Maura gets back to them quickly because they worded it like it was an urgent matter, and there’s a back and forth for a while about scheduling and accommodations. We’re of the belief they won’t be out here until Monday at the earliest.”

Adam knit his eyebrows together. “It’s not Monday.”

“You fuckin’ tell me. Anyway, I’m halfway through a meeting with a few UN representatives when Maura has to interrupt. They arrived at the White House, claimed they had a meeting, and just…didn’t leave. Evan Maura couldn’t get through to them, which is the thing that scared me a little.”

“You should have put Calla on it.”

“Believe me, if she were here, I would’ve. But as it was, I had to hurry out the UN members to deal with decidedly more antagonistic foreign relations.”

“Why were they even here?”

“They wanted to discuss the military relationship between our countries-”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” she said, waving one hand in dismissal. “Any points they were trying to make went straight out the window when they started pulling out cue cards, to be honest. I might have to call Löfven to smooth things over.”

“Well, there’s never a dull moment,” Adam said fairly. His mother snorted.

“Sure isn’t. Anyway,” she said, glancing at her watch, “it’s now Thanksgiving, so no more meetings for twenty-four hours.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

She pulled a face in dismissal. “We take our patriotism seriously, darlin’. Don’t want our home state gettin’ too mad.”

“Of course.”

Ana checked her watch again. “The turkeys will be on their way to the Willard by now, so we’re not ruining any American traditions today.”

“Wait,” Adam said. “Where?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “The Willard. They stay there every year.”

“What? No. _ No. _You cannot give the turkeys five-star accommodations with taxpayer dollars. You’ve been doing this every year?!”

“It’s public knowledge, sugar. Every news outlet mentions it.”

“How did I not-” Adam cut off. “There is no way you can do that! They’re turkeys! It’s a waste!”

“It’s precedent, Adam. I’m not sure if there’s anything to be done at this point.”

Adam stood quickly, pacing back and forth, and his mother stood behind him. “It’s a _ blatant _waste of money, I’m shocked we haven’t already been-”

“Hon, every president so far has done the same-”

“Imagine the story if we broke the tradition! Even conservatives would have to applaud your frugality-”

“We can’t play games with tradition, you know they already call us disrespectful-”

“-we can’t be using _ taxpayer money-” _

“-by all means, if you have the time to find lodging for two forty-pound turkeys-”

“Put them in my room!” Adam blurted. His mother stopped short.

“You’re not serious,” she said. “We’re not putting the turkeys for me to pardon in your bedroom.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Adam-”

He shifted his feet, coming to a stop. He lifted himself up to his full height. Debate Captain Adam, six-time Best Delegate Adam, and First Son Adam converged into one. His mother barely looked phased.

“Oh, God,” his mother said. “I can’t listen to another sales pitch.”

“Madame President,” Adam began, “I’d like to echo the sentiments of the forebears before me-”

“Nope,” she said, making double-time back to her desk. “You’re not going to filibuster me.”

“In 2018 alone, at least forty-three articles in the Wall Street Journal accused the sitting administration of wasting tax dollars. This came on the heels of a tax increase for Americans making more than ten million dollars per year and the subsequent pushback from a more conservative electorate in Congress.”

“Fine!” Ana said, her hand falling to the desk with a thump. She brought it back up to her head to massage her temple a moment later. “I’m too tired to hear my own history read back at me. You win.”

He sat back down on the couch, crossing his legs primly. “Perfect,” he said, allowing himself to smile once again.

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terreisa · 3 years

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Love Down the Line: Chapter 5

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn't really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma's teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn't come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, AO3

~*CS*~

Cincinnati, May 12th

“Emma, sweetheart, how’s the tour? Are the fans nice? Have you been able to go sightseeing anywhere?”

“Are you getting enough sleep? You didn’t on the last one and you were basically a zombie when you got back. Did you pack that melatonin I dropped off? What about your meals? You’ve been eating something green everyday right?”

Emma rolled her eyes at Mary Margaret and David’s unending questions. While they’d never formally adopted her they were as close to having parents as she was ever going to get. She absolutely loved them but sometimes they drove her nuts with their worrying.

“The tour is going pretty good and the fans are great as always. No sightseeing since this is the first day of rest we’ve gotten so far and I don’t really feel like leaving the room. I packed the melatonin and I’m getting as much sleep as I can and I’ve eaten green things. Sour apple rings count right?” She stifled a laugh at David’s spluttering and Mary Margaret’s attempts to calm him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Tink’s been on a health kick lately and has been making us drink these smoothie things with more vegetable juices and leafy greens than frozen fruit and Killian refuses to eat fast food so we’ve been stopping at actual restaurants or he’ll cook for us on the bus.”

At the mention of his name Killian popped his head through the doorway that connected their rooms. One of the greatest perks of having him on the tour was no longer having to share one room with both Ruby and Tink while Will got an entire room to himself. Of course Will hadn’t been as enthused about having to share for once.

“Need something, Swan?”

“Oh, that’s very thoughtful of him. You have been trying to be friendly with him, haven’t you? I know you were hesitant at first but Ruby has nothing but nice things to say about him and he’s been through some tough times.”

“What’s he been cooking? And what kinds of restaurants? Some of those places can be just as bad as fast food and he might not know it.”

Emma was extremely glad that it was only Mary Margaret and David that were on speaker. Though she wouldn’t have put it past Killian to have heard everything they said with the way they were just shy of yelling into their phone to make sure she heard them. As it was he could probably tell they were talking about him from the heat she could feel in her cheeks and ears. She waved him off from her spot on the bed, turning slightly so he could see the phone she was holding. His eyebrows shot up before silently apologizing and ducking back into his room.

“You guys really need to chill out. Everything’s going great, Mary Margaret, and it’s early enough that we’re still getting along. And please stop analyzing what I’ve been eating, David, you’re a sheriff not a nutritionist.”

They both hemmed and hawed but it had been that way since she’d started going further than fifty miles outside of Storybrooke to play her music. At first it had been annoying and unwelcome until she’d realized that that’s what people did when they cared about someone. The Nolans were second to none when it came to worrying and being overprotective out of love.

“Then, as a sheriff, is he being respectful? And I don’t just mean with you and Tink. He’s not trashing hotel rooms or causing disturbances in the cities you’ve been playing at has he? I’ve read about some of the trouble he’s gotten into-”

“David, you didn’t!”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Online, stuff online!” David corrected impatiently. “I’m not going to illegally pull a file on someone, no matter how much I want to.”

“So you’d rather rely on gossip sites?” Emma hissed lowly, not wanting Killian to overhear any part of her conversation at the moment. “I thought we’d agreed to not look at those after that one article made you both join Twitter just to berate the author and the site.”

“Hey, now, I got rid of it after that,” Mary Margaret said defensively, “I’m only on Instagram now.”

“I only promised to not look at stuff about you,” David grumbled. “A man with a very public history of causing trouble joins the band on only the good word of one person? I have the right to be concerned.”

She bit back her sigh of frustration. As much as she didn’t like David’s attitude she couldn’t help but understand, seeing as she’d felt almost exactly the same way in the beginning.

“Yeah, you do, but I’m not too worried about it and you shouldn’t be either. You should be more worried about what Ruby’s going to do to you when I tell her you don’t trust her.”

Their twin gasps had her grinning.

“That’s cold, kiddo,” David grumbled.

“Just like your lasagne will be once word gets to Granny,” she said, snickering. “Look, everything’s going great and will keep going great unless you keep sending bad vibes my way.”

“Bad vibes?” Mary Margaret asked with a smile Emma could hear in her voice.

“Yup, the baddest of vibes, ones where I end up with laryngitis or the bus gets a flat in the middle of nowhere or my guitarist breaks their hand and can’t go on tour. Oh wait, that’s already happened.”

Killian took up space in the doorway once again, his eyebrows high on his forehead. She shook her head at his unasked question but didn’t shoo him away again.

“According to Ruby it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her and that it could be the best thing to happen to you. She has been very forthcoming about what Killian going on tour with you might end up becoming,” Mary Margaret said smugly.

“Wait, what do you mean?” David asked confused as Emma scrambled to end that conversation before it started.

“Would you look at the time? I gotta go!”

“Emma, sweetheart-”

“I’ll call you guys in a few days. Love ya, bye!” With a huff she ended the call and dropped her phone onto the mattress, knowing she’d only postponed the inevitable gossip session Mary Margaret wanted to have with her. She looked at Killian, who was still lurking in the doorway, “Yeah?”

“Not to be nosey-”

“But you’re going to be anyway,” she groaned, “You heard your name and you’re curious.”

He chuckled and strode into her room, settling himself on Tink’s bed, leaning back against the headboard, “You would be too. Especially when you have a tenuous hold on a gig and the person who decides your fate has mentioned your name and then not long after is discussing ‘bad vibes’.”

“You think too highly of yourself,” she said dismissively. “I was talking to Mary Margaret and David about how terrible your cooking is and that it’s been giving my stomach bad vibes.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Swan,” he said with a shake of his head, “If I recall correctly you had three servings of last night’s fare.”

She rolled her eyes, “Just replenishing the reserves I used up during the show, Jones. The stir fry wasn’t that special.”

“I see,” he said seriously, rubbing his hand thoughtfully over his chin, “I guess I’ll strike it from future meal options, wouldn’t want you to have to force yourself to eat it before complaining about it to others.”

“That’s not-” she huffed, knowing he’d called her bluff, “Whatever, you know it was great. That’s what I was telling them. David was all upset that I might not be eating what he considers a balanced diet.”

He chuckled, “And the bad vibes?”

“They worry too much and I basically told them they’d be jinxing me if they kept it up. I don’t think Mary Margaret believed me and I know neither of them will relax until the tour’s over,” she sighed, flopping back onto the mattress and staring at the ceiling.

“Is this the same David that inspired you to learn guitar?” Killian asked casually but she could hear the hesitant caution in his tone.

“Yeah, him and Mary Margaret, his wife, kinda latched on and never let go, not even when-” she paused, still unwilling to share her whole messed up story with him, “things got really rough for me. They’re pretty much my parents in every way without actually being my parents, including getting all up in my business and then nagging me about what they find. You know how it is.”

“I wouldn’t, actually,” Killian said softly. She sat up on her elbows and he gave her a self-deprecating shrug, “Mum died when I was eight and my father left when I was ten. Spent a few years living with a distant cousin until things got straightened out.”

She blinked at him in shock. Not once, in any interview or magazine profile had that part of his childhood been discussed. They had only ever mentioned where he’d gone to school before he’d dropped out when the Realm of Jewels started getting big. At the time, when she’d been devouring every piece of media she could when it came to her favorite band, she hadn’t paid attention to that lack of detail. It hadn’t mattered then and while it still made no difference to her it did go a long way in explaining why she felt like she had known him for years instead of weeks.

“You, uh, got adopted then?” She asked hesitantly as she sat up, needing to know if he’d had the same heartaches as her or if he’d been one of the lucky ones.

“Er, not as such, no-” he looked up at the ceiling, his Adam's apple bobbing as his hand rubbed at the back of his neck, “First my brother was granted civil rights for adolescents, essentially cleaving himself out from under the burden of our father. Once he proved he could support not only himself but me as well he became my legal guardian. He had just had his seventeenth birthday the week before.”

“Seventeen?” she breathed, “And you were fourteen.”

His head snapped back down, his eyes wide and his voice a little unsteady, “You really must have been quite the fan if you still remember that bit of trivia.”

“Maybe I was,” she said softly. She dropped her gaze to where her hands were balled up into tight fists in her lap, “Must have been nice. Living with someone that actually wanted you.”

“It was but then there were times where it wasn’t,” he gave a deep sigh and when she looked up he was staring down at his own hands as they played with denim over his knees. “Liam had been my hero my entire life just being my older brother. When he became my guardian I felt as though I had to push myself into perfection to live up to what I thought he expected of me. I’d already started drinking by that point but it didn’t truly become a problem until I was sixteen.

“I knew Liam was disappointed but he had no idea how to help me and I’m not even sure I would have accepted it had he offered. Instead he proposed a compromise of allowing me to play with his newly formed band if I curtailed my drinking substantially. It worked, for a while at least. I’d been playing for quite some time on my own but with the camaraderie of the band and the discovery of actually enjoying writing songs I found an outlet for all the feelings that I’d been trying to drown with the drink. For the first time since Liam had assumed my guardianship I felt as though he was my brother again, not just my beleaguered caretaker.”

Emma wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. She didn’t want to inadvertently come across as judgmental by commenting about his drinking but she would have given anything for some relative to have saved her from any one of her foster homes and done whatever they’d ask in gratitude. Though, when she thought about it, Mary Margaret and David were practically the next best thing and she’d given them plenty of teenage attitude at the time. Especially when it came to the year she would give anything to forget.

“Did he throw a fit when you decided to quit school for the band?” She asked, hoping to steer the both of them into less painful and mine filled waters.

He looked up with a small grin, “It was his bloody idea. Liam didn’t want to leave me to my own destructive devices and since the band had been steadily building momentum he was loath to relegate shows to only weekends and holidays while I was in my final year. He put it up to a vote with the others and they agreed. And since I didn’t have a licence yet and therefore couldn’t do my share of the driving I spent my time on the road reading anything and everything I could get my hands on. I’m fairly certain I got a better education that way than I would have otherwise.”

“So is that why you guys were the Jolly Rogers first? A bunch of pirates driving all over England to pillage seedy pubs for fame and fortune?”

“Something like that,” he chuckled, his grin widening.

She grinned back, feeling somewhat proud that she’d been able to somewhat keep herself from completely depressing him with her curiosity. As much as she’d obsessed over him when she was younger she was surprised by how much she actually didn’t know about him, even though she’d just berated David for taking gossip as truth. There was a part of her that itched to know more about him, the real person and not the persona she and millions of fans thought they knew. Their little chats on the bus and in the small bits of down time just weren’t enough and suddenly she had an idea on how to fix that.

“Alright, where to Jones?”

“Er, what?” He asked, his confusion at her non sequitur furrowing his brow.

“I’ve never been to this city before and I know you have so you are now my de facto pirate tour guide.”

“Swan,” he sighed, though his smile was growing by the second, “I’ve only been here twice and both times I only had a few hours to explore, which back then was usually as many bars as I could get to before sound check. I’m probably the last person that should be leading you around this fair metropolis.”

“Too bad-” she jumped up off the bed and began looking for the shoes she’d kicked off as soon as they’d walked through the door earlier that morning, “Google ‘things to do in Cincinnati’ and pretend that you know what you’re talking about. Then I’ll pretend to be impressed like every other time you think you’re being all too cool for school and worldly.”

“Too cool for school?” Killian repeated incredulously. “What are you, twelve?”

“Twenty-eight,” she said absently, grinning triumphantly as she extricated one shoe from under the desk and spotted the toe of the other poking out from under the bed Killian was sitting on.

“Twenty-eight and apparently have no idea how to stroke a man’s ego so he’ll want to do ridiculous favors for you,” he muttered.

She looked up at him sharply and got an eyebrow wiggle in return. With a huff she sat back on her bed to slip on her shoe, “I don’t need to stroke a man’s anything to get him to do stuff for me.”

“Oh, really?” He asked incredulously. “And what pray tell do you do?”

Gladly rising to the challenge she straightened from her bent position she subtly arched her back and blinked owlishly at him, nearly grinning in triumph at the way his mouth parted slightly and he sucked in a breath. She did let a small smile grace her lips as she pointed to the shoe under the bed.

“Can you grab that for me first?”

He nodded, a little slack-jawed, and as soon as he bent over the side of the bed she relaxed her posture. When he came up with the shoe she was waiting with her hand out, her brow raised and a shit-eating grin all in place. At his look of indignation she kind of wished she’d had her phone ready to get a picture of it.

“That’s- that’s bloody manipulation, that is!” He spluttered, slapping her shoe into her palm.

“Ooo, someone’s got their panties in a twist. All I did was ask you to get me my shoe,” she said innocently, putting the shoe on. “Come on Tour Guide, show me the good stuff.”

“Unbelievable,” he growled, but he was shaking his head and smiling. He stood and moved back to his own room, shouting through the open door, “I expect you to pay for whatever unique culinary delight we’ll inevitably be trying. Fool me once, Swan.”

“Shame on you,” she cheerfully called back.

Making sure she had her phone and room key she shot off a text to everyone who needed to know where they were going. It was a request from Regina that she had chafed at and ignored at first, until she began being recognized in the streets and the paparazzi had started following her around. After one incident that had had her holed up in the backroom of a used bookstore with a dead phone, no one’s number memorized and a show that had been only a couple of hours away Regina had put it in her tour contract that she had to be in contact at all times. She still chafed at practically being under her manager’s watchful eye like a toddler but she and Regina both agreed that it was better than being saddled with a handler instead. At her insistence Ruby, Tink and Will were also in the group text so Regina wouldn’t try to hound them about her whereabouts thinking they could be hiding her.

Her phone chimed as she debated whether or not to put on a sweatshirt or her leather jacket.

Rub a dub: you know you could leave me out of this now right?

and ease up on the guilt trip I’m taking you on? no way! She responded, deciding on the sweatshirt and tying it around her waist.

Rub a dub: jokes on you, girly, i’ve got a front row seat

to what? She sent, suspicious and wary about what Ruby could mean.

Rub a dub: if you’re asking you’re not ready to know yet.

Emma glared at her phone for a moment before sending multiple texts demanding Ruby to explain herself that all went unanswered. She growled in frustration and turned to glare at Killian who was once more leaning on the door jamb, chuckling.

“Ruby’s being an ass,” she gave as an explanation, shoving her phone in her back pocket. Then she got a good look at what Killian was wearing, “Is that a Reds hat? I thought you didn’t know the city that well. Why do you have a hat for their team?”

“Oh, you’re a big baseball fan then?” He asked, clearly surprised.

“David is, I’m more of a fan of the way the pants fit. Plus the Reds had that jersey with no sleeves last year. Arms like those tend to stick out in a girl’s memory,” she said dreamily, remembering just how well the players wore those particular jerseys. Then she mentally shook herself and nodded at the hat, “You didn’t answer my question.”

His lips quirked in amusement, lightly touching the hat’s bill and then the sunglasses that she hadn’t noticed hanging from his shirt collar, “I’ve found that it’s the easiest way to blend into the crowd. When we were at the height of… everything it was hard to even step out of the hotel without getting mobbed. Liam discovered, quite by accident mind you, that people didn’t expect to see us dressing ourselves down and to be fans of the local sports teams. Unfortunately it means I have a wide array of ball caps that one would consider quite a collection if they weren’t solely for a practical use. If I had a choice I would have donned the hat from Pittsburgh but I’m not quite sure what rivalries are predominant in this city and I’d prefer not to be verbally insulted over the wrong choice.”

Emma gave a surprised laugh. Just minutes before they’d been having a somber conversation that could have dragged the rest of the day down. Instead they were joking around about baseball and overzealous fans.

“Should I put on some super elaborate disguise too?” She looked up at him with a teasing grin. “I could get a wig or maybe some of those glasses with the fake nose and mustache attached.”

Killian snorted, “As entertaining as that would be I think you’ll be fine, love, as long as you don’t wear the red leather.”

Feeling offended for half a second she begrudgingly agreed with him. Her red leather jacket was her signature look, she’d worn it for all three of her album covers and went out on stage wearing it for the first half of the show. It was as much a look as it was a kind of armor, one she’d been wearing for much longer than she’d been famous for it. Having Killian tell her not to wear it, no matter how practical the advice was or that she’d already decided on a sweatshirt, had her suddenly feeling vulnerable.

“Do you… um, do you have a hat I could borrow?”

He looked at her for a moment before nodding and moving back into his room. She followed, shoving her hands in her pockets to keep from hugging her middle to keep herself steady.

As much as the room was identical to hers and Tink’s, the boys’ room looked like a tornado had run through half of it. There were clothes strewn across the far, unmade bed, a rifled through duffle bag under the window, and a tray of mostly-eaten room service food on the desk. In sharp contrast the closer bed was tidily made, a small orderly stack of books and notebooks on the bedside table closest to it. Killian was sorting through one of the drawers of the bureau near the foot of it.

“We’re staying for one night and you put your stuff in the drawers?” She asked incredulously, moving closer to his nightstand to see what books he was reading.

“If it makes any difference-” she looked over at him and saw that he had the bill of a red hat clenched tightly in his hand as his gaze darted between the nightstand and her, “I only unpacked enough for the two days we’re here. Er, looking for something, Swan?”

“Just wanted to see what you were reading,” she said cautiously. Feeling that she’d accidentally hit on yet another touchy subject she stepped back and waved her hand towards the bureau, “But that’s not important, you really took the time to unpack stuff for only two damn days? Do you also set all your stuff out on the bathroom counter with a ruler to make sure it’s all lined up perfectly?”

“Do you want to stand here nit picking my travel habits or do you want to go explore the city?” Killian asked pointedly, stepping forward and holding the hat out to her though she could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Fine, let’s go-” she grinned, grabbing the hat. Catching sight of the logo on the front she held it up with a sigh, “Really? Red Sox? Is it because I’m from Maine?”

“Would you rather wear the Yankees cap?” He challenged.

She shuddered, adjusting the snaps so it’d fit, “Never. David would kill me if I was photographed in it and I’d never be allowed to step foot in Storybrooke again.”

“Do you have a preference then?” He looked back at the drawer, “As I said I have quite the array.”

“This is fine,” she said, trying to sound like it was a burden when she really didn’t care. Grinning she put on the hat, pulling her ponytail through the opening in the back. When she looked at Killian for approval he was watching her with a half grin on his face, “What? Did I somehow put it on wrong?”

“Nothing of the sort, Swan,” he said softly. Then his grin widened “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, pirate guide.”

What followed was a day unlike any Emma had ever had on a tour before. They roamed the streets of the city with Killian making up facts about the various things they saw and their history as she egged him on, resulting in ridiculous stories that had her laughing until she was crying. To her delight they ended their excursion sitting in the upper tier at a Reds game, thoroughly enjoying themselves as just two faces in the crowd. Though, when it came time for the kiss cam she found she was surprisingly disappointed that the camera hadn’t been trained on them. It wasn’t until they’d returned to the hotel and spent an hour moving back and forth between each other’s rooms before parting ways for the night that she figured out what Ruby had meant about having a front row seat.

#captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fan fic #cs ff #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan fan fiction #cs fan fic #ouat ff #my writing

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

Text

SkyFire 1: Chapter 20

On the Road Again & Art Galleries

Word count: 2.6k

SkyFire 1 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

The first half of 2015 flew by. Aurora was flat out not only with her course work at Columbia, but she also managed to secure a small gallery space and was spending every spare moment painting, in an attempt to finish the series, she intended to show at the end of May. Harry and the boys started the On the Road Again tour in February with their shows in Australia, and with Zayn shocking them all by leaving the band in March, he was also feeling the stress of the first few months of the year. Following a show in Dubai at the start of April, the band took a two month break to write their next album and in the wake of Zayn’s departure, the boys made the decision to stick together during the writing process and flew to New York to write with Aurora. All four of the guys moved into their own floor of the tower and spent most of their days set up in Aurora’s recording studio, writing and recording demos to send to their team. The time off for the group was much needed and they enjoyed being able to kick back and relax with Aurora’s family while working on the album, something they had not had the opportunity to do for their previous albums given that they had all been written and recorded while on the road for touring. Aurora tried to split her time well between her obligations, setting aside enough time to study, paint for her upcoming gallery show and also working on the writing process with the guys. Harry also enjoyed being able to split his time while staying in the tower; he and the boys would all join Steve in the gym every morning and eating dinner with the entire team every evening. Harry felt comfortable in the tower and after more than a year together, he considered Rori’s home as his own, just as he hoped she felt comfortable in his and he would often roam the common floor while the band took a break, spending time with various members of the Avengers team. While the boys would usually turn in from bed around 11pm every night, Harry would have to pull his girlfriend from her art studio well after midnight every night, forcing her to get some sleep. Finally, a busy month and a half, Aurora sat her final exam for the school year and her paintings were completed and ready for the opening of her show.

Harry met her at the gallery space in the afternoon, the day before the opening night, watching on as she instructed staff as to where each of the 18 pieces should hang and he felt so incredibly proud of her. She’d worked so hard on each painting and to see them all hung together allowed him to finally see the theme she had running through the entire series that she had been explaining to him for the last few weeks.

“It’s going to be a hit,” he told her once the last canvas was hanging in its place. “Everyone is going to love it.”

“I hope you're right,” she said. “I just want people see what I’m trying to do here and not just think I’m trying to capitalize on the family.”

xXx

The Gallery show opened 3 days later and Aurora felt an immense sense of pride in her work as she watched people walk around, taking in her paintings. Her dads were both walking through the crowd, talking with guests about how great the paintings were, as were the Harry’s 3 bandmates. Aurora was feeling incredibly grateful for how supportive her friends and family were and she felt herself getting quite emotional. Harry, who was standing next to her, noticed her starting to sniffle and placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to look at him.

“You ok?” he asked, looking her in the eye.

“Just a little overwhelmed by the response,” Rori replied, taking a deep breath to calm her emotions. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“You deserve all of this love,” Harry told her, hugging her tight against him, her cheek cushioned against his chest as they both watched the guests wander around the space, taking in the art on the wall. “You’re incredible,” he whispered.

Aurora looked across the gallery, taking in the 18 canvases on the exposed brick walls. Each work was made up of a pair a canvases, hanging next to each other with a metre gap between each pair and the next. The first pair was made up of a painting of the Iron Man armour and on it’s matching canvas there was a painting of her father cooking pasta in the kitchen. The next pair of canvases similarly showed the two apposing sides of her Pops, with one painting depicting Captain America in his full uniform, while the other showed Steve standing by an easel, paint splatted on his white undershirt and a soft smile on his face. The rest of the series continued along the same theme, showing each member of the Avengers team as the superhero the world new and the family member that Aurora loved; Clint was laughing as he threw balls of paper at the back of Sam’s head, Bruce was mid-yoga pose, Nat was dancing, Thor was playing video games, Sam was laying on his bed listening to music with his headphones on, and Bucky was reading a book.

The last pair of canvases showed the team assembled together on the left, as if preparing for battle and on the right, they were all collapsed on sofas, bean bags and recliners, staring off at an unseen flat screen tv out of frame. The overall effect of the series was clear, or so Aurora hoped. No person was one thing; identity was multifaceted and complicated and different people saw different aspects of everyone’s identity. Aurora hoped that the collection would encourage people to view those around them as multifaceted individuals with hopes and dreams and families and insecurities. Since becoming a public figure 3 years ago this was something that had plagued Aurora’s mind; to so many people on the internet she was the one thing they believed her to be. For some that was a privileged white girl, for others she was just a song writer, while others saw her merely as the girlfriend of Harry Styles or the daughter of Tony Stark. In truth she was all of those things, but she was also a normal girl, who grew up in a tiny apartment above a London pub, she was the product of a single mother who worked every day of her life to give her daughter the best life she could, and she was also so much more. That was the message she hoped this show would portray, the mark she hoped to leave on those who came to view her work, to imagine people complexly.

xXx

Following the second week of Aurora’s art show, she flew out with the boys for Cardiff, Wales for the start of the next leg of their tour on the 5th of June. The day of the first show, Aurora was sitting in the green room, waiting for the boys to come back from one of their many media obligations. She was drawing while she waited, periodically picking up her phone to see if any other critics had reviewed her show. It felt weird for her to not be there for the final two weeks, but she wanted to be there with Harry. She’d spent months looking forward to her chance to spend the summer with him and the boys and she knew she’d made the right choice to come on tour now given everything that had happened at the end of their last set of shows. Her art was in safe hands and she trusted Pepper to coordinate its safe return to the tower after the show came to an end, so she decided to put it aside in her head and focus her attention on being there on tour and present in the moment.

When the boys returned to the green room, she was struck again by how weird it was for there only to be the four of them now and she frowned. The entire time she had known Harry it had been him and the four boys, but now for Zayn to be gone, she still didn’t quite understand. She remembered when Harry had called her from the road, the night that Zayn had walked out on them. He’d been in tears and her heart had broken as she stayed on the phone with him for hours, promising that it would be ok. That no matter what happened with the band, that she would be there, and he would be ok. They had talked about restructuring songs, splitting up Zayn’s parts between the four of them and after they’d hung up, she had cried. While she and Zayn had not been best friends like she was with Louis, and they hadn’t gotten along quite as easily as she did with Liam or Niall, she had still grown to think of him as her brother, as she had with all of them. He was always quieter than the others and sometimes when the chaos of the tour had become just a little too much, the two of them would hide away somewhere quiet to relax and decompress. She’d tried to call him a few days after he’d left, but he’d ignored her call, probably assuming that she would have sided with Harry, like a child having to pick which parent to live with after the divorce. In truth she’d just wanted to make sure her friend was ok. It had been months now and she still hadn’t heard from him. She’d sent texts and twitter dm’s, trying to explain that she just wanted to talk and that she missed him, but it had all gone unanswered. The only contact any of them had had with him since March had been when Louis had argued with him on twitter in April. All of this was running through her head as the boys piled into the green room, flopping down on sofas and attempting to relax before they were needed on stage in a little over an hour. Harry placed a kiss on her cheek as he walked past her towards where Lou was waiting to fix his hair for the show.

“You look like something’s bothering you,” Liam said, sitting down beside her and casually throwing an arm across the back of the sofa she was curled up on.

“I’m good,” Rori replied with a small smile.

“No, you’re not,” Liam pressed, his eyes flicking around the room to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. “Talk to me.”

“Just feels weird, doesn’t it?” Rori whispered, her eyes also glancing to the others, not wanting to upset anyone. “I still don’t really understand what happened and it just doesn’t really feel right that he’s not here.”

“Yeah,” Liam sighed. “It feels wrong, but we’ve got to keep moving. We might never really know why he did it, but we’ve just got to work with what we’ve got now and try to make it work.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Rori said, noticing Liam’s eyes were now a little misty with unshed tears.

“It’s ok Rori,” Liam replied, smiling softly as he wrapped his arms around her. “We’ve got to be able to lean on each other, right?”

“Oi!” Harry yelled with a laugh. “Get your mitts off my girl.”

“Sharing is caring,” Rori joked, laughing loudly when Harry pulled her to her feet and out of Liam’s arms. “Rude!” she giggled, kissing his cheek. She looked back at Liam, glad to see that Harry’s joke had broken the sombre mood they had slipped into, even if he didn’t know that’s what he’d done.

xXx

Despite missing a member, the tour was a success, continuing on much like the previous one had and after the first few shows, Aurora found that it felt just like old times. They travelled across Europe and along the west coast and into Canada, recording and finalising the new album. Aurora even recorded the piano track for If I Could Fly, a song that she had written with Harry late one night when they’d stayed up in the studio after the others had turned in for the night.

Something she often did with tracks she wrote for other artists was to record her own version and a few months after they released their track, she would release her version on her YouTube channel; a series she called The Demo Tapes. She had writing credit on almost every track on the new album, but after talking about it with the boys, they had decided that If I Could Fly, should be the track for her to record given that it was so personal to both her and Harry, so one afternoon in late August the two had set themselves up with the bands producers to record a duet of the song, filming the recording process to use for the music video in addition to the footage Aurora already had of playing the song on her grand piano back in New York. Singing with Harry was always one of her favourite things and being able to sing their song together filled her heart with so much love for the curly haired man standing on the other side of the microphone, his headphones pushing his long curls back from his face.

“What do you say we give the whole thing one last run through love? From the top?” Harry asked her once they were told they had everything. “One just for us?”

She returned his smile, adjusting her headphones. “Let’s do it,” she said, clearing her throat before the familiar sound of her keys filled their ears.

[Harry – Aurora – both]

If I could fly I'd be coming right back home to you I think I might give up everything, just ask me to Pay attention, I hope that you listen Cause I let my guard down Right now I'm completely defenceless For your eyes only, I show you my heart For when you're lonely and forget who you are I'm missing half of me when we're apart Now you know me, for your eyes only For your eyes only I've got scars, even though they can't always be seen And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing Pay attention, I hope that you listen cause I let my guard down Right now I'm completely defenceless For your eyes only, I show you my heart For when you're lonely and forget who you are I'm missing half of me when we're apart Now you know me, for your eyes only For your eyes only I can feel your heart inside of mine (I feel it, I feel it) I've been going out of my mind (I feel it, I feel it) Know that I'm just wasting time And I Hope that you don't run from me For your eyes only, I show you my heart For when you're lonely And forget who you are I'm missing half of me When we're apart Now you know me, for your eyes only For your eyes only, I show you my heart For when you're lonely and forget who you are I'm missing half of me when we're apart Now you know me, for your eyes only For your eyes only For your eyes only

As the final notes faded out, Harry stepped around the microphone and swept Aurora into his arms, kissing her deeply as they both forgot about everyone else in the room, or the camera set up on the tripod to record the process.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire #skyfire fic #aurora stark #dad!tony #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #stony #stony fic #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #superfamily #harry styles #tony stark

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fadesofcool · 6 years

Text

Pure Devotion

Author’s Note: Here’s a little piece I wrote inspired by my favorite song ever, Pure Devotion by Turnover. If you haven’t heard it, I highly suggest listening to it. Thanks for reading <3

You couldn’t count how many times you heard it. Luke said it over and over, he told you everyday. He would text it to you with heart emojis, tell you in a snapchat with a smile on his face, and giggle while he told you while you two chatted on Skype late at night while he was on tour. You would be curled up in your bed, wrapped in blankets, him in his bunk resting on his pillows, his laptop sat on his chest. It always made you blush no matter what. You couldn’t control it. You had been told that you were pretty before, but no one had called you beautiful the way Luke did. You couldn’t control your blush. Hearing Luke’s words warmed your soul and melted your heart, his words resonating deep in your core. Sometimes you would giggle, hiding your face. Other times you would call him beautiful back, only for him to berate you that he was being serious, that you really were the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. You loved Luke. You really did. You loved him with all your heart and supported him in everything he did. You were his rock, you stood by his side, you were there for him whenever he needed you. But you couldn’t always be there physically. You had a life outside of him, and it wasn’t always possible for you two to be together. You knew when you started dating Luke what his life entailed, and he made sure you understood that you two would never be able to have a normal relationship, no matter what. But you knew that with Luke, the sacrifices were worth it. You loved seeing Luke on tour, even if you couldn’t be there. You would text him good luck before every show. It was important to you that he knew how much you supported him. Performing was where he thrived. He was his most confident on the stage, and it was as exhilarating for you to watch as it was for him. But the distance took its toll on you, when you were home night after night studying and working, wrapped up in your tiny little world, while Luke was out exploring the world beyond yours, one that you may never know as well as he did. And Luke liked to celebrate. He didn’t need a reason to, he just was always up for a party. You saw that in the beginning with him, and you knew it was the rockstar life. You didn’t always attend the parties, either because you were busy or you just didn’t want to. But Luke always wanted you there. You weren’t sure why, you weren’t famous, the only people you really knew at these parties were Luke and the boys. Often you would just give in and go, getting dressed up but only nursing one drink the whole night, almost collapsing in your heels as Luke dragged you around the party to introduce you to people as his “beautiful girlfriend.” You didn’t know if it was better if you sucked it up and went or if you stayed home. Back then you were still naive. As Luke’s fame grew, you learned quickly that while Luke seemed to enjoy you coming along to the parties, he had more fun when you stayed home. He had the most fun while he was on tour. Pictures and pictures of Luke with other girls, prettier girls. Out late in dark bars, walking home from clubs, tossing back drinks at events, Luke seemed to know every model, singer, and actress out there. Nights like these when the pictures flooded your Twitter feed, you couldn’t understand why Luke was with someone like you. When he would drunk text you about how hot you were, you got your answer. Luke had been home from tour for a few weeks, but you had hardly seen him. He claimed to be at the studio all day working with the boys. You didn’t know where he was, but considering tour just ended, you didn’t think he was that eager to get back to work. Luke spent a long time after tour celebrating its conclusion. At night he was always out, not coming home until late, when you were already asleep. The latest pictures had kept you up, sick to your stomach. Luke and the boys surrounded with all kinds of girls, and they were all gorgeous. You heard him stumble in the house, and you locked your phone and rolled over, pretending to be asleep so you didn’t have to hear his drunken rumbles about how pretty you were and how glad he was that you were his. Luke was passed out next to you when you woke up, flat out on his stomach, facing you with his mouth open, slight snores rumbling out. You sighed, watching him sleep. It was one of your favorite things to do. When he finally came home from tour, and you just couldn’t believe that he was here with you, you’d watch him sleep, looking so relaxed and innocent. As you sat up in bed, Luke groaned, waking up from your jostling the bed. He slowly pushed himself up, turning to sit on the edge of the bed. He held his hands over his eyes, groaning. “What time is it?” He asked.

“Nine.” You answered quietly.

He groaned in response, flopping back onto the bed, his arm over his eyes.

You stood up, heading to the closet to get dressed. You pulled out clothes before peeling your shirt over your head and clipping on your bra. You spotted Luke in the mirror, his arm lifted up, his eyes peeking out from under it, watching you change. You pulled your shorts down, slipping on a pair of underwear and leggings. You turned to grab your shirt when you felt Luke’s arms around your waist. He rubbed his hands up and down your body, feeling over your stomach and breasts, his chin resting on your shoulder, lips attaching to your neck.

“Let’s take all this off and get back in bed, hmm?” He whispered, a smile evident on his face.

You pushed his hands away. “No Luke,” You said, turning away from him to continue getting dressed.

He scrunched up his face at your attitude. “What’s your problem?” He grumbled.

You were so tired of dealing with this, Luke only wanting your body or talking about how good you looked, telling you he loved you but never acting like it.

You angrily pulled your shirt over your head. “Did you have fun last night Luke?” You asked, tone sharp.

Luke sighed and put his hand over his eyes. “Is this a rhetorical question? I’m too tired for this right now.”

“Too tired for what, Luke?”

“This!” He yelled, waving his hands in the air. “You’re always asking me these cryptic questions, if you have something to say, just say it, because I really don’t want to do this.”

You could see in his face how annoyed he was with you. You felt tears welling your eyes. Luke was always so quick to brush things off, to ignore how you were feeling, if he noticed you were acting different at all.

“You don’t love me Luke,” You whispered, tears threatening to fall.

“What? How can you say that?” He asked, exasperated.

You wiped your eyes. “You don’t, Luke.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yes I do. Where is this coming from?”

“If you loved me, why are you always out with other girls?” You demanded.

He waved his hand in the air. “It’s just a press thing, you know that. The label sets that shit up. We’re seen together, it stirs things up.”

“Yeah, like cheating rumors that I have to deal with. My mom asks me about that, Luke,”

“You know I would never cheat on you.”

“Do I Luke?” You asked, your voice shaky.

“You seriously think I would cheat on you?” He asked, his voice dark.

“I don’t know Luke! How am I supposed to believe you when you’re never here and you’re always out with other girls!”

“I love you, you know that!”

“No, I don’t Luke!” You yelled. You had finally reached your breaking point. This moment had been building up inside of you for weeks, waiting to erupt like a volcano, showering Luke in your sadness and rage like burning hot lava.

“You don’t tell me you love me and you don’t act like it either!” You continued.

Luke rolled his eyes again. “Yes, I do.”

“Telling me I’m pretty and showing me off to your friends is not love, Luke. Posting a picture of me on Instagram and calling me hot isn’t love. It’s degrading.”

“Degrading? How?” He yelled, his face red.

“You only care about the way I look! That’s the only reason your with me, Luke. To show me off. And it’s still not enough, because you’re always with other girls.”

“That’s not the only reason,” He warned.

“Yes it is, Luke. You don’t want to do anything with me unless it’s going to a party or an event. We never see each other at home. My looks caught your eye, and you never bothered to learn about anything else. You were attracted to my body, but you didn’t really care about anything else.”

Luke looks shocked at your revelation. He opens his mouth, his eyes searching your face.

“That’s…that’s not true. I love you,” He finally says.

You shake your head. “No you don’t Luke,” You gesture between the two of you. “This isn’t love. You think I’m pretty, and that’s okay. But I need more than that. I don’t know if you ever wanted anything more with me.”

“But..but, I want to be with you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Do you really want to be with me Luke? And everything else that comes with it, everything besides all the pretty moments? Because I’m not pretty all the time Luke. If not, then it’s not worth it.”

Luke looks down, then looks back up at you, his eyes welling with tears. You step towards him, grabbing his hands.

“I know you care about me Luke, and I care about you too. But I don’t think you love me.”

Luke shakes his head slightly, sniffling quietly. You look at him with sad eyes. You loved Luke, you did. But you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t be with someone who’s feelings for you weren’t true and sincere. With that, you gave Luke one last longing glance, his head hanging in shame, and you turned and walked out the door.

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fossadeileonixv · 2 years

Text

Milan 0 Torino 0

Oye. How is Milan still top of the table? Well, we'll get there but let’s talk about the Torino game first

I spent a good chunk of yesterday afternoon thinking about the game and why Milan is having difficulties scoring. There were some things in this game that were different than the other games comprising this dry spell and I’ll give you my take as to what I think is going on. First ratings with some commentary, then more commentary and probably more down in the comments…

MAIGNAN 8.5 Wasn’t challenged much but the best shot of the game from either side was heading to the top left corner with some heat and Magic Mike got a hand on it and pushed it over the bar. I would guess 95% of GKs either don’t get a hand on it, barely get a hand on it, or do get a hand on it but aren’t strong enough to keep it out. Moreover, the way he commands the team and distributes. My god. Best keeper in Serie A and it’s probably not even close

CALABRIA 6 Just kind of more of the same from him. In fact, he’s basically a microcosm of the whole team: not playing terrible (mostly), but just not doing enough to make a difference. He did have one of the better shots on goal for Milan, but that’s not saying much

KALULU & TOMORI 7.5 I’ve been grouping these guys together for the most part during this run and I’m not going to stop now. Their score is a little low (for them, LOL) but they actually played really well. The reason? They both got carded. I know, I know, the fouls were VERY soft and I’m not even sure contact was made in either case. But, having them both carded made me nervous in the event there was a counter that was looking promising for Torino with neither of them able to take a tactical foul without being set off, and one goal would have definitely been enough to take all 3 points

THEO 5.5 Probably his worst game in a while. He was average at best on defense mostly because he was out of position a lot, which I get - he’s often bombing forward - but that wasn’t really the case this time. He seemed to make a lot of runs into the middle of the pitch and rather then getting into the final third he often got dispossessed before that and wasn’t in a position to track back. So he was out of position a lot and didn’t provide anything on the offensive side of things

TONALI 6.5 Looked tired. Wonder if he’s still feeling a little weak from the week before when he was out sick. Either way, did his thing before getting subbed out. One thing that has been bugging me about him of late: his corners. It’s like Hakan is over there taking them

KESSIE 5.5 I didn’t notice him until about 15-20 minutes in and I’m pretty certain that’s when he had his first touch. Some of you said it in the comments but, just leave already. He’s not doing anything well and my god that was some of the worst crossing I’ve ever seen anyone make at this level

SAELEMAEKERS 5.6 See what I did there?...ANYWAY, guy got back into the starting lineup and it was like he never left! Ran around like crazy, got into some good positions occasionally only to squander the opportunity (see his flop in the box), dribbled a little too much, and was competing with Kessie for the shittiest crosser on the team. I think the best thing he probably did was motivate Messias to be less terrible. Oh, and the hair...WTF. I didn't know there were Supercuts in Italy. Even recent Q&A guest Sabrina Belmonte said something about it on Twitter. Yikes

DIAZ 5.5 I usually don’t think he played as bad as some of you here do, but he wasn’t very good this game. Probably his worst game in 2022, which is saying something because he hasn't been all that good in 2022. I think what happened this game was that Theo and Leao kept on running to the middle and it was clogging everything up. There was zero width and Torino was more than happy to let Saelemaekers keep ending up with the ball in the final third. There’s a little more about this I want to say but I’ll save it for below. At any rate, last season Brahim came up big late and Milan is going to need that again as they can’t seen to put this thing to bed

LEAO 5.5 Where has this guy gone? He can’t get anything going and he seems to have all but given up staying wide on the wing and trying to sprint past the defender for a shot on goal or to get a cross off. His decision making has been poor as well and so it’s the double-whammy of not staying wide and then giving up possession in the middle of the pitch for no good reason

GIROUD 6.5 Giving him a 6.5 because the man battled against one of the biggest and toughest defenders in Serie A and he straight up took a beating. My one critique though is I wish he would try to come down with the long balls rather than trying to flick them to teammates. Come on big guy, bring in down, turn and release your teammates or hold it up for others

subs

MESSIAS 5.5 Didn’t do much but looked far less lazy after getting benched for the Salad Man. He did have that one nice one-touch pass that almost released…Giroud?...I forget who but it was a nice pass

KRUNIC He played

GABBIA N/A Came in for a banged up Tomori who was also sitting on a yellow. My biggest concern about Gabbia is that Tomori might be injured and bump him up the pecking order. Ok, that’s too harsh

coaching

PIOLI 6 Lineup was good I thought, especially considering the players missing. Another clean sheet? Also good. But game plan? Nope. Not good enough. We all know they have issues at RW and LW and AM aren’t helping either. It felt like the players thought they should move inside more but also stay out and whip in crosses because ?...more on this below

THOUGHTS

-Let’s start off positive: Milan have now gone 567 minutes without conceding. That is really f**king good

-Also good? Still in first! I was looking at the top 4 and how they’ve fared over the last 5 league games and the only one with more points than Milan?...Juve, the team furthest out trying to catch them. Here’s what they’ve all earned in their last 5 league games:

Milan – 11pts

Inter – 11pts

Napoli – 9pts

Juve – 12pts.

Yes, I know it would’ve been nice to extend the point lead but not one of these top 4 teams were going to win all or most of their remaining 8-9 games

-Not so positive: Milan haven’t scored in over 210 minutes. This has been super frustrating. Yes, Milan has issues at key offensive positions but they’re not THIS bad. I honestly believe it’s a result of poor game planning on Pioli’s behalf. Maybe come out the first 10-15min in a different formation just to throw off the opponent. Change it up. Anything

-One thing I noticed between Milan and both Liverpool and ManCity (yes, I know they’re much better teams…smartasses): Liverpool and ManCity always have different guys making runs into the box. It’s never just the forward up top and guys trying to whip in crosses or taking shots from distance. Do you know who’s the only guy I see making runs into the box on a consistent basis? Brahim. The shortest guy on the pitch. That’s not good enough. That would be like basketball players without the ball not running into the paint to try and drag defenders out of position and then the ball handler wondering why he’s getting mugged trying to drive to the basket. Umm, there’s too many bodies to do anything.

With Milan it’s basically the same thing: No runs into the box, no overlapping runs, nothing. It’s Giroud in the 18yd box trying to flick it to nonexistent players because no one is making runs into the box and everyone else is outside with terrible spacing getting every shot they attempt blocked because there’s a sea of opponent’s bodies to try and get through

Ugh. What do you guys think?

0 notes

hermitologist · 6 years

Text

My 17 Favorite Records of 2017

Hello, Internet. Yet another year has passed, and because I’ve made a habit of making year-end lists, this old man has gone and done it again.

I listened to a veritable buttload of music this year on my morning runs, which I decided to post about on Instagram most days in a concerted effort to keep myself accountable bore every last one of my followers to death. I think it’s working.

What follows, is my list of favorites. Not “best”. “Favorite”. *My* favorite. So, spare me the “Your list sucks. WTF. I can’t believe “A Vest For Jerome” by Turd Circus isn’t on there!” comments. I’m sorry we don’t have the exact same taste in music. :)

As usual, I feel like the top 5 or 6 here are pretty carved in stone, but the last 12 and some of the honorable mentions could totally be flip-flopped depending on which side of the bed I woke up on. I actually fiddled with a few spots five minutes before posting this, which is either a testament to that or Exhibit 4,923 in my undiagnosed OCD case.

Anyways ... TL;DR. Here’s what I was into this year. I hope you find something you enjoy.

IMPORTANT: Please let me know what I might missed out on (as I’m sure there’s a ton of it), and share some of your favorites in the comments below. Thanks!

17) Japandroids - Near To The Wild Heart Of Life

This didn’t quite grab me the way Celebration Rock did, but it’s got a good number of super infectious earworms that got stuck in my brain at the top of the year.

Listen here.

16) Sorority Noise - You’re Not As ____ You Think

Excellent “emo”with that feels like it could very easily fit into Brand New’s discography (and I mean that in a very complimentary way). Highly recommended if you’re looking for something to fill that void.

Listen here.

15) Queens of the Stone Age - Villains

This took a little while for this record to sink its teeth into me, but once it did, it didn’t let go. The arrangements are so nuanced that I’ve found little bits of ear candy each time I’ve listened to it, and while the mix is not my favorite, the songs are so brilliantly catchy and drumming so monstrous, I’m hooked. And Jon Theodore is the best drummer on Earth. That’s not debatable either. It’s fact.

Listen here.

14) David Bazan - Care

It’s no secret that I’m a sucker for anything and everything Bazan. His lyrics and the timbre of his voice cut to my core, and the songs on Care are no exception -- even when they’re delivered over minimalist electronica (which is not my favorite vehicle by any stretch). Another Bazan masterpiece.

Listen here.

13) Glassjaw - Material Control

This record is perfect in that it is exactly what it needs to be. It’s Glassjaw doing what they do best -- intense, vibey, groovy, heavy post-hardcore that is a logical follow-up to Worship & Tribute, while flexing and pushing enough to make it feel fresh. A tremendous return to form, and a record that was well worth the wait.

Listen here.

12) Julien Baker - Turn Out The Lights

Sprained Ankle blew me away and knocked me on my ass, and somehow, some way, Baker has leveled up and topped that. The stripped-down “artist + guitar” intimacy is still there, but the heavy moments hit even harder because of the additional orchestration on this record. Such a promising future for her.

Listen here.

11) The Life & Times - S/T

Another excellent record from some of one of Kansas City’s best bands. There are few who do airy, melancholic, spacey, dynamic rock better than these guys. And Chris Metcalf is one of the best drummers on the planet right now -- so pockety, tasteful, and effortless. Highly recommended if you dig Failure, Shiner, Hum, Antenna-era Cave In, et al.

Listen here.

10) METZ - Strange Peace

This beast is 36 minutes of noisy, nasty, heavy post-punk with stellar guitar and bass tones, and badass drumming that sounds like the best parts of Nirvana and Young Widows had a perfect lovechild. I dare you to listen to this record and not have an overwhelming urge to play it as loud as you possibly can and headbang until your eyes fall out of your skull.

Listen here.

9) CHON - Homey

I really enjoyed this when it came out, but it wasn’t until we spent five weeks on tour with them and got to see them shred a handful of these songs on a nightly basis that it really grabbed ahold of me. This record is stellar. Sure there are a ton of notes, but they’re all tasteful, never bogged down in painfully long prog opuses, and there’s so much feel here ... which is so rare in the new world of insanely chopped, gridded and sampled prog. The splashes of hip-hop and glitchy Prefuse 73 style electronica are a killer addition to the mix as well. This is the feel good record of the year for me.

Listen here.

8) Kendrick Lamar - DAMN.

There really isn’t another rapper who holds a candle to Kendrick at the moment, and this might be the best work of his career. I haven’t had a hip-hop record hit me like this in at least a decade. I was hooked from the second the beat dropped in DNA., got roped in even more by the slow jam LOVE., and HUMBLE. sealed the deal. What a beast.

Listen here.

7) Cloud Nothings - Life Without Sound

This record rules, but I’m not sure I can put my finger on exactly why I like it so much. It’s got tiny elements of so many bands I love or used to love without being overly referential. It’s got a melancholic vibe but never lacks energy. And it is packed with really, really well written and catchy songs without full-blown pop circus. You know you’re listening to a great record when you’re playing a deep cut and uncontrollably blurt, “Fuck, this song is good.”

Listen here.

6) Converge - The Dusk In Us

Nobody does it better than these dudes, and it’s been that way for the better part of two decades. The Dusk In Us is yet another record a discography full of bar-setting hardcore/metal/noise records that elevate the ceiling of the genre and make everyone else sound/look bland in comparison. This one slides right into the #3 or #4 spot in that storied discography. So great.

Listen here.

5) Manchester Orchestra - A Black Mile To The Surface

This is one of those rare records that blows you away on first listen, and gets better with each subsequent listen. The former happens when the songs --stripped to their bones -- are stellar, and the latter happens when the arrangements and mix are somehow even more stellar. ABMTTS checks the shit outta both of those boxes and then some. Aaaand it was made with multiple producers, but doesn’t sound disjointed in the slightest, which seems damn near impossible. It’s the perfect Manchester Orchestra record ... “The Gold” was stuck pleasantly in my head for a majority of the year.

Listen here.

4) Pile - A Hairshirt Of Purpose

Disclaimer: I am a late adopter of the majesty of Pile, but I am happy to announce that I am hopelessly hooked on their soulful, noisy, schizophrenic, (occasionally) dreamy, fusion of post-punk, blues, and all sorts of other good things. My entry point was Dripping, but A Hairshirt ... cemented my love for this band. It’s weird, it’s beautiful, it’s energetic, it’s heavy, it’s ethereal, and the musicianship is frustratingly good. If you know, you know ... if you don’t, just trust me. Spin it with an open mind and meet one of your new favorite bands.

Listen here.

3) Propagandhi - Victory Lap

I grew up on Epitaph and Fat Wreck Chords punk rock in the 90s, and these guys (and gal) are legitimately the only band of that era that continue to excite and inspire me. I look forward to every release, and they manage to deliver every. single. time. It’s not a nostalgia thing with Propagandhi. Chris Hannah’s lyrics, melodies, and guitar playing continue to push the boundaries of what can be done in that genre. You might expect a group of 40-year-old punks to decline or at least plateau, but they’re still on an upward trajectory and it’s inspiring as hell. Bonus points if you’re a parent and can listen to “Adventures In Zoochosis” without tearing up. Victory Lap is outstanding -- one of their three best records without question.

Listen here.

2) Cloakroom - Time Well

If you’ve been following me here, on Twitter, or Instagram, it’s no secret that I’ve got a massive soft spot in my heart for bummer jams -- especially bummer jams of the heavy variety. Time Well is a damn near perfect in those regards. It’s shoegazey without being tired or overly jangly, mildly doomy without being mind-numbingly boring, and fuzzy without sounding like it was recorded inside a sleeping bag. I’m pretty sure I listened to this record more than anything else this year, and after probably a hundred spins, it hasn’t lost any of its luster. It’s outstanding (and it’s got some damn tasty drumming on it too).

Listen here.

1) Elder - Reflections Of A Floating World

My buddy Scott Evans (Kowloon Walled City vocalist/guitarist, Antisleep recording engineer/producer, multi-talented human, generally outstanding dude, recommender of many amazing bands) turned me on to these guys earlier this year by sharing 2015′s Lore with me. That record f-ing floored me. Riffs for days. Heaviness. Prog vibes. Stoner rock goodness. Dynamics. Space. Sabbath-y vocals. It checked all of the boxes. Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to hear Reflections Of A Floating World.

ROAFW dropped in June, and it’s even better than I could have imagined. I’d wager that there are more sick riffs on this record than your favorite band has in their entire discography. I dare you to listen to this and not get a twitch to start a play air guitar. Also: How the shit do you write 15-minute songs that don’t bore people into catatonia? This is how. Just like this. Parts never drag, parts never feel like they’re just filler, and there isn’t a wasted moment in 64 minutes of music. That’s a remarkable feat in and of itself. This is a goddamn timeless record, and there’s no doubt I’ll have it in heavy rotation for the rest of my life.

Listen here.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

The Effects - Eyes To The Light

Brutus - Burst

Nate Smith - KINFOLK: Postcards From The Edge

Employed To Serve - Warmth of A Dying Sun

God Mother - Vilseledd

Slowdive - Sugar For The Pill

Hundredth - RARE

Mutoid Man - War Moans

Grizzly Bear - Painted Ruins

Quicksand - Interiors

Death From Above - Outrage! Is Now

Power Trip - Nightmare Logic

Health - DISCO3

Vince Staples - Big Fish Theory

All Them Witches - Sleeping Through The War

Code Orange - Forever

Blis - No One Likes You

Bjork - Utopia

Less Art - Strangled Light ;)

MY FAVORITE RECORD OF 2015 THAT I DIDN’T HEAR UNTIL 2017

Town Portal - The Occident

MY FAVORITE RECORD OF 2004 THAT I DIDN’T HEAR UNTIL 2017

The Stella Link - Mystic Jaguar... Attack!!!

CURRENT PODCAST QUEUE

Chapo Trap House (Grey Wolf Feed)

The Trap Set

Song Exploder

Slate’s The Gist

Slate’s Hang Up & Listen

INTERCEPTED

The FilmDrunk Frotcast

Deadcast

How I Built This

Freakonomics Radio

Radiolab

This American Life

#music #musician #year end lists #top 17 #thrice #riley breckenridge #hermitology

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rinnnyxr · 3 years

Text

Bold what you relate(d) to/what you were like/are like.

Infancy 1. I was born by cesarean section. 2. I was completely bald as a newborn. 3. I was a pretty tiny baby. 4. I cried a lot, almost all the time. 5. I was a cholicky baby. 6. My mom carried me in a sling. 7. I didn't know how to pet our cat right, so I pulled his hair. 8. I can remember some of my first holidays, especially Halloween and Christmas. 9. I didn't like being separated from my mom. 10. My baby blanket was sea-foam green.

11. If I had been a boy, I would've been named Zane or Joseph. 12. I was born on May 1st. 13. The worst illness I got was roseola. 14. My first stuffed animal was a teddy bear. 15. I can recall my mom singing me to sleep. 16. I was breast-fed. 17. My being born helped my dad become more mature. 18. My mom sewed a lot of clothes for me. 19. The first movie I saw was Aladdin. 20. My first pet dog was a German Shepherd.

Childhood 1. My sister was born when I was almost 2 years old. 2. I grew up without commercial television. 3. I had a giant collection of stuffed animals. 4. I loved reading stories with my parents before bedtime. 5. We got a different German Shepherd as a pet. 6. We also went through a lot of pet cats. 7. I was homeschooled for kindergarten and 1st grade. 8. I'm still friends with my first best friend. 9. I loved drawing, particularly dragons and horses. 10. My first horse was very old. 11. I preferred listening to oldies rather than things like The Backstreet Boys or N*Sync. 12. I hoped to grow up to be an author. 13. I often wrote short stories but never finished them. 14. I kept a diary. 15. I believed in Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny. 16. I took swimming lessons. 17. I was extremely shy. 18. One of my favorite books was The Little House in the Big Woods. 19. I loved to play games on our computer with my dad. 20. ^^ However, I never owned one of the older gaming systems... just a very old computer.

Pre-Teen Years 1. I was still extremely shy. 2. I discovered the convenience of the internet. 3. ^^ However, we only had dial-up. 4. I switched schools a few times. 5. I was shocked how much other kids talked about sex. 6. I was self-conscious about my looks. 7. I became really interested in anime/manga. 8. ^^ I didn't really read/watch much else. 9. My dad passed away. 10. I was really into drawing and was becoming very good. 11. My hope was to someday become a comic artist/author. 12. I got a PS2 and was really into video games, such as Final Fantasy. 13. I had a best friend with the same name as me. 14. I didn't have a very good diet. 15. We got another dog, an Australian Shepherd. 16. We began considering remodeling our house. 17. I played clarinet and was a part of my school's band. 18. I wanted to learn Japanese. 19. ^^ I also wanted to go to Japan very badly. 20. I had zero fashion sense.

Teenage Years 1. We moved into town for a while. 2. I had commercial television for the first time. 3. ^^ As well as high-speed internet. 4. I had my first boyfriend. 5. ^^ And first kiss. 6. During freshman year, I loved high school. 7. I moved on from the anime/manga scene. 8. I got better at drawing but drew less often. 9. I had more friends. 10. My self-confidence got better. 11. I switched schools multiple times. 12. I started reading a lot more often. 13. I dyed my hair for the first time. 14. I cut my hair to an inch in length. 15. We remodeled our house and moved back into it. 16. My mom started dating someone new. 17. I started to really dislike high school. 18. I had a really bad breakup. 19. I left the country for the first time. 20. I started learning French.

Present (26 Years Old) 1. I'm really ready to move on from high school to college. 2. I want to learn guitar. 3. I'm trying to get back into drawing again. 4. I can be kind of cynical. 5. I want to dye my hair a crazy color. 6. I want to learn more French... 7. ... As well as many other languages. 8. I also want to see the world. 9. I haven't decided what I want to do for a living. 10. My sister is one of my best friends. 11. One of my favorite things to read is mythology. 12. I reaaallly love classical literature. 13. I'm giving up regretting and holding grudges. 14. I'm a virgin... 15. ... and I'm waiting for someone really special to change that. 16. I can be too nice... 17. ... which makes a lot of odd guys very attracted to me. :S 18. I love fashion. 19. I have a great relationship with my mom. 20. I want try living in an apartment, at least once.

APPEARANCE: i’m smaller than most of my friends my feet are small one of my parents/siblings has the same hair color as me my hair is naturally straight

i think i have nice arms/hands i tan easily

none of my parents/siblings has the same eye color as me

i have dimples

my forehead is big

i wear contacts/glasses i’m ginger and i have freckles

BEAUTY: i hate shaving

i go on manicure/pedicure

i do my eyebrows

i own at least one item from adidas and/or nike

i tattoed/pierced myself

i was on diet

i have pimples i do my makeup everyday

i love necklaces

i have/had dyed hair

i own 4 or more pairs of jeans i had undergone plastic surgery

DO I KNOW: how to dance limbo?

the story of how my parents met? how to swear in three or more languages? more than 3.14 of pi?

when’s my best friend’s birthday?

how to french kiss?

what goes after “in west philadelphia born and raised…”?

name all of Kardashians?

how to ride a bike?

I HAVE: made out made lasagna

slapped/punched somebody made a surprise party

smoked cigarettes

ridden on motorcycle

spent whole night without sleeping cooked a meal for somebody made it to the second base let somebody treat me like shit

been told that i was pretty/smart kissed somebody you didn’t feel attracted to cried after reading a book

WILL YOU EVER: go on university/college get married write a book

adopt a child

start a band

go on audition for a show

WOULD YOU EVER: do extreme sports? be without internet for a whole week?

forgive your significant other for cheating on you?

live without fast food for a whole year for 500 00$?

jump from Eiffel Tower for 1MIL$?

live like amish for 1 year for 500 000$?

sing in front of your whole school for free netflix for the rest of your life?

make out with your best friend’s significant other for 800$?

SOCIAL MEDIA: do you have friends on facebook that you never met in real life? do you have tumblr best friend?

did you ever post photo of your meal on instagram?

did a celebrity ever replied/followed/retweeted you/your post on any social media?

do you have stardoll account?

have you ever stalked somebody on social media?

do your friends know your wifi password?

have you ever illegally downloaded music/movies/tv shows/books?

WHICH IS BETTER: nice shoulders or nice arms

collarbones or hipbones flat stomach or long legs

lips or eyes curly hair or straight hair

six pack or nice arms long eyelashes or nice eyebrows

funny or romantic

RANDOM: have you ever seen a cow in real life? did you ever swim in a river? have you ever talked to your pet? have you ever helped your friend get ready for a date?

have you been in a fist fight?

were you ever been in a love triangle?

have you ever had period cramps? did you put your name in the goblet of fire?

*LOVES* 1. Netflix 2. Apple cider 3. Sephora 4. Self-help books 5. NYLON Magazine 6. Family Guy 7. Sunglasses 8. The Big Bang Theory 9. Last.fm 10. Forever 21 11. Shoulder bags 12. Bangles 13. Scary movies 14. Art supplies 15. Driving 16. Writing poetry 17. White chocolate Reese’s 18. Glee 19. Fashion 20. The Simpsons 21. Heavy blankets 22. Christmas 23. Friends (the show) 24. Arrested Development 25. Rings 26. My MacBook Pro 27. Sleeping 28. Staying up late 29. Mexican food 30. America’s Next Top Model 31. Legally Blonde 32. Floral dresses 33. Boots 34. Kitties 35. Dogs 36. Animals, in general 37. Board games 38. Beer 39. Red wine 40. Scarves 41. Vanilla Coke 42. Butterscotch 43. Documentaries 44. Writing 45. Skinny jeans 46. Naps 47. A clean bedroom 48. Having clean hair 49. Nail polish 50. Children 51. Jersey Shore 52. Traveling 53. California 54. Teen Mom 55. The ocean 56. Cuddling 57. Holding hands 58. Kissing 59. Having sex 60. Talking on the phone with the guy I like 61. Being home alone 62. Reading 63. Strawberry-flavored things 64. Indie music 65. Everlasting Gobstoppers 66. King of the Hill 67. Cream soda 68. Headbands 69. Sandals 70. Perfume 71. YouTube 72. CollegeHumor 73. Facebook 74. Naming things 75. Long hair 76. Dark-haired guys 77. When guys wear glasses 78. Sunshine 79. Storms 80. The Fourth of July 81. Pizza 82. Bob Dylan 83. Singing 84. Clam chowder 85. Garlic 86. Polar bears 87. Bronzer 88. Chocolate 89. Popcorn 90. Road trips 91. Seeing musicals 92. Bo Burnham 93. Demetri Martin 94. The color yellow 95. The color green 96. The color pink 97. The color blue 98. Stud earrings 99. Fairs 100. Autumn

*HATES* 1. Doing dishes 2. Cleaning 3. Tomatoes 4. Moulin Rouge 5. When my computer freezes 6. Potato skins 7. The color red 8. The color orange 9. Pumping gas 10. Pomegranate 11. Predictability 12. Rihanna 13. Hoop earrings 14. Halloween 15. Gin 16. MySpace 17. Twitter 18. Flip flops 19. Liquid Eyeliner 20. Repetition 21. Metal Music 22. Over-analyzing 23. Worrying 24. Anxiety 25. Uncoated pills 26. Having to wake up early 27. Hot chocolate 28. Wal-Mart 29. Bird poop on my car 30. Inconsiderate people 31. Nightmares 32. Chores 33. Hanging up clothes 34. Being tired 35. Cramps 36. Being ignored 37. Losing touch 38. Alarm clocks 39. Skiing 40. Football 41. Golf 42. Hummers 43. Pickles 44. Makeup lines 45. Too much sauce on my pizza 46. Acne 47. When there’s nothing good on TV 48. When plans fall through 49. Not having money 50. Being too hot

NAMES Your first name begins with a C. Your first name contains 6 letters. Your mom solely picked out your name prior to your birth. Your first name is of Latin origin. You like your first name. Your surname contains 7 letters. Your surname begins with a C. Many people have had trouble spelling or pronouncing your surname. When you get married, you’ll choose to take your partner’s surname.

BIRTHDAY, BIRTHPLACE & THE LIKE You were born outside of the United States. You’re a Capricorn. You think most of your personality traits are akin to your zodiac sign. You have lived in more than one foreign country. You have one sister. You have half-siblings. You have step-siblings. You’re a middle child. One of your parents is deceased. Two of your grandparents are deceased. You would love to have kids of your own some day. You would consider adopting a child. You don’t see much of your relatives very often. You have a first cousin you haven’t seen in 10+ years. You’re in your late 20s. You have completed at least some college.

SPORTS & OTHER ACTIVITIES You’re not an athletic person. …but you try to remain physically active. You don’t understand the concept of American football. You like soccer. You’re a fan of the NY Mets. You’ve tried skiing and figure skating. You have a gym membership. You like ice hockey. You have watched a game/match (of any professional sport) LIVE. You like to swim, but are not very good at it.

RELATIONSHIPS & ROMANCE You’re in a committed relationship. You’ve been committed to your partner for 6+ months. You’re a sucker for old, romantic films. You’ve watched porn movies on cable. You’ve personally experienced a pregnancy. You plan to marry the person you’re involved with now.

RANDOM MIX You prefer winter over summer. You like the cold. New Year’s Eve is your favorite holiday. Christmas really bores or depresses you. You’re agnostic or atheist. You’re socially liberal. You have pen pals from foreign countries. You have a Tumblr account. You’re a proponent of LGBT, animal and environmental rights. You’re thrifty. You have lived with roommates… …and hated it! You find the terms “retard” and “fag” very offensive and overused. You’re multi-ethnic. You’re trying to omit sweets from your diet. You’ve recently quit drinking or smoking. You’re currently unemployed. You love techno music. You’re an 80s brat. You’re bilingual. At least one of your family members has served in the military. You believe war is not a solution to ANYTHING! You fidget constantly when feeling nervous or bored. You’re a suburbanite. You have owned a dog, cat, some fish, or a rabbit. You know someone with a neurological disorder like ADHD, epilepsy, OCD, etc. You’re a grammar freak. You’ve participated in a spelling bee in elementary school. You prefer swimming in a natural body of water over a swimming pool. You have naturally wavy hair. You love to travel…. but hate traveling by plane!! You don’t own a desktop computer. You like spicy and sweet foods. You thought George W. Bush was one of the dumbest U.S. presidents ever. You’ve been to NY…. California… Massachusetts… Florida… Washington, DC… Texas… Virginia… Maryland… New Jersey… New Hampshire… Rhode Island… Maine… Canada… Western Europe… You’re a natural brunette, but have colored it before. You think you have a dis-proportioned physique. You think horror movies are more dumb than scary. You prefer to spend your Friday and Saturday nights quietly. You’ve taken a ballet or jazz class. You know how to play a musical instrument. You hate to cook and really suck at it. You don’t attend parties very often. You’ve pondered about how overall life was like 100 years ago.

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exxar1 · 3 years

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Episode 4: Waking Up

11/14/2020

Good morning, folks. As I write this, I’m sitting in my living room, listening to an Apple music channel of classic Christmas carols, while late morning sunshine streams through my front window. I have just finished putting laundry in the dryer and washing the few dishes in the sink that piled up during the week. My McDonald’s iced coffee is almost gone, and I’m feeling ready to face the day.

I have a couple hours before I have to start getting ready for work, so there’s not a lot of time to hammer out this blog entry. I don’t have a lot to say for this episode, but I have been feeling somewhat strange for the last couple weeks. Not ‘strange’ in the physical sense, but ‘strange’ as in ‘there’s something happening with me that I can’t quite explain’.

And now I’m going to try to explain what I’m talking about.

Per my usual work routine, I spend 5 ½ hours every morning, Monday through Friday, in the lobby of Walmart, greeting customers and making sure everyone is wearing their face mask. And, as usual, I have nothing but my own thoughts and the occasional conversation with co-workers to keep me company. But mostly just my own thoughts. And boy, my brain lately will just not shut down – or even go into standby mode. It seems that all I can do lately is just think, think, think. Here’s a sample of what tumbles through my head from morning until night every day:

· Is the ballot recounts for the national election close to being done? Will Trump retain his presidency (I hope), or will America finally get its first female president? (Yes, you read that correctly.)

· Spencer Klavan of the “Young Heretics” podcast so damn good looking, and the fact that he’s also a “Super Mario Bros” fan in addition to being ivy league educated and possessing near-savant level human intelligence has forced me to finally admit that I have had a massive crush on him for almost four months now. (I just wish he wasn’t such an avid gym rat. That’s such a turnoff. Well, that, and the fact he already has a boyfriend.)

· I need to start working on the story ideas that came to me a few weeks ago. There’s two really good ones that I know would make excellent short stories, or, at the very least, novellas. One’s about a superhero called The Red Mask, and the other is about cats and dogs that are created with a sophisticated AI that allows them to look, feel and behave exactly like real animals but without all the maintenance and mess that pet owners have to put up with (such as feeding them, combing them, bathing them, walking them, training them, cleaning up their poop, etc.).

· Oh! A circuit court judge in Georgia just ordered a bunch of ballots to be thrown out in that state’s recount!

· Spencer Klavan liked one of my tweets about Young Heretics!!!!

· Should I have McDonald’s for lunch or the apple I brought with me? The apple. Definitely the apple. Need to stay healthy.

· I can’t believe all the idiots on social media that not only voted for Biden/Harris but actually think that he will make a good president. What the hell is wrong with them???? Anyone with half a brain can easily recognize what Trump has done for this country, and it scares the shit out of me that the radical left (capital ‘R’, capital ‘L’) just might get their foot in the door of the White House. What the fuck is wrong with half of America right now??? It’s all that “white fragility”, “systemic racism”, “white privilege”, “black lives matter” bullshit!!! How the fuck did that horseshit gain such powerful traction in this country????Robin Deanglo and Ibram X Kendi and all their pathetic followers are so full of shit they ought to open their own manure factory!!!!

· Yay! The 2021 “Super Mario Bros” and “Star Trek” wall calendars I ordered on Amazon have shipped! They’ll be here Tuesday!

· And that reminds me, I need to start working on the photo calendars that I give to my family every year for Christmas. Maybe I should do that this Saturday morning before my shift at Check City.

· Oh. Time for my break. Yay! Coffee!

And…repeat. That. All of that. Over and over all day long – creative story thoughts, political thoughts, work thoughts, checking my phone three times an hour to review the latest posts on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram to stay on top of all the latest news and current events that serve to fuel my new woke self. Texting friends and family about this and that. On and on and on...

Hhmmm. My new woke self.

The other day, as this new thought occurred to me, I mentally reviewed everything that’s happened to me this year, everything that I wrote about in that first blog episode. I also thought about my recent self-examination of my whole life up to this point, the stuff I covered in episodes 2 and 3 of this blog. Then I thought back over the last two weeks: the sudden and unexpected passing of Aaron; his memorial service that I made an emergency trip home to Idaho to attend; and, finally, this new, strange…’wokeness’, for lack of a better term, that I now find myself in.

I honestly don’t know how to precisely describe it. I’ve been trying all this week to come up with apt, specific words and/or phrases, and then, finally, I thought of something. I’m a huge fan of the reboot of “Battlestar: Galactica” that was done by Ronald D Moore on the SyFy channel in 2004. It’s been a few years since I last binged all 4 seasons of that terrific show, but I was thinking about it the other day as my mind wandered, and it suddenly occurred to me what this new ‘woke’ state that I’m in feels like: the Cylon sleeper agents (who looked and acted like real humans) that were suddenly awakened to their true nature.

Yeah, I’m not kidding. Yes, I know how that sounds, but let me explain. I really feel like that, somewhere deep in the core of my brain, a metaphorical ‘switch’ was flipped from ‘off’ to ‘on’ along about late August or early September of this year. The world around me did not change, but my perception of it – as well as my perception of my place in it – did fundamentally change. I realized this week that for pretty much all my life I’ve been coasting through it. Everything that I’ve done and accomplished took no real effort or sacrifice on my part. Everything after high school pretty much just happened naturally. I decided to join the Army on a whim. When that didn’t work out, I came back home and enrolled in college. I spent 4 ½ years doing what I loved – reading, writing, discussing reading and writing – and I came out with a Bachelor’s in English. Again, no real effort. I coasted through on my natural talents. The only real work was in the core classes that I needed for my degree, like math or biology. But those were few. And then, after college, instead of putting my degree to use, I just settled for a day job in retail and then, later, in an elementary school. And then, in 2012, on a whim, I quit my job and moved to Las Vegas. Once again, I found a cushy day job where I make really good money, and…then 2020 happened.

In other words, I’ve never been an active participant in my own life. I just kinda let everything happen and went with the flow. I even had this same attitude in high school and it drove my parents and teachers absolutely mad. I didn’t care about being valedictorian or captain of the sports teams or even being the best damn piano player this side of the Rockies. All that mattered was hanging out with my friends and making sure the VCR was set each week to record the newest episodes of “Star Trek: DS9” and “Star Trek: Voyager”. And, without consciously realizing it, that’s been my attitude for my whole damn life. I’ve never cared about the world beyond my own front door. If it didn’t affect my life directly, I never paid it any attention. That’s especially true for politics. No matter who sat in the White House, my life never changed. So I figured, why bother? I’m perfectly content to live a quiet, solitary existence, and the rest of the world can do its own thing.

Except that now I’m no longer content with my quiet, solitary existence. Something within me fundamentally changed this year, and there’s no going back.

I am awake. (But, unlike the Cylons, I’m not about to start murdering humans.) I’m certain that it was God’s hand that reached down to flip that invisible switch in my brain, but now that I have rejected my former sleeper state, I don’t know exactly what to do. For the last couple weeks, I have felt nervous; anxious; excited; jittery; like a live wire that’s been cut and is now flopping on the ground, shooting sparks and energy. I have to constantly resist the urge to grab total strangers off the street and shout at them to “Wake up!” The world around us is changing, and we can’t live as sleeper agents in our own lives. Everything that’s happened in 2020 is going to shape the future of this country and the lives of everyone in it, and no one can afford to not care and just keep living their quiet, solitary lives.

This is why I scream on social media about the stupid mask mandates, and the ‘lamestream’ media, and politics, and everything else that I’ve been ranting and raving about for nine months. And yes, I’m sure some of my friends think I’ve gone crazy, and more than a few have probably unfollowed me. I don’t mean to alienate folks, but I have to put this energy somewhere or I’ll go crazy.

One of biggest changes that I have noted is that I no longer have a desire to park in front of the TV in my time off. I still have a few regular shows that I watch each week, but my passion has turned to reading and podcasts. I renewed my Audible.com membership a few months ago, and I have started stockpiling audiobooks on various subjects: biographies of the Founding Fathers of America, non-fiction books on artificial intelligence and other new forms of technology, books on world history, western literature and Greek philosophy. (I recently began listening to a series of lectures from Boston University on Plato’s “Republic”). And, of course, the highlight of my week is a new episode of “Young Heretics” every Tuesday. (And no, it’s not just because of my crush on Spencer Klavan.) I also have started carving out an hour here and there each day to grab my laptop and write a few paragraphs of new stories or just jot notes for upcoming stories.

I really, honestly feel as if something is coming. I don’t know what, I don’t know when, but God woke me up for a reason. He’s got something planned for me, and I need to be ready for it. I’m pretty certain the world is not coming to an end anytime soon, and I’m sure 2021 will be a better year for our nation than 2020, no matter who’s sitting in the White House. And yes, Lord willing, this stupid “pandemic” will also be over sometime soon. For me, personally, 2020 was the year that changed me and got me ready for whatever is coming. A fire’s been lit under my ass, but I’m not sure where yet where I’m supposed to be jumping up and running to.

I am sure, however, that It’s time to be an active participant in my own life.

Hey mom and dad, I really do care now, and I really, truly want to do my best. I want only top grades and to be the captain of…something. It only took twenty-six? Twenty-seven years? But now I’m going to be that grade-A student that you and Mrs. Tutty and Mrs. Jones and Mr. Walker always knew I could be.

Better late than never, eh?

#life #Christian #gay #politics #truth #woke

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umjammercammy · 6 years

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I beat Mario Odyssey yesterday finally after setting it down for weeks so I could burn in Retail Hell (which I'm still doing, but at least I had two days off) and I honest to god can't express my love for this game enough. Like, I was blabbering about stuff on Twitter, but Odyssey completely goes above and beyond on all fronts.

I know what Mario is. I love Mario. I've always loved Mario, I've been playing Mario games since I was 3 years old and watching other people play them before then. Mario's always been a part of my life and a part of my family's. I played SNES with my grandma, my cousin had an NES and the Mario TV stand, my dad bought me an NES from Goodwill with a load of games from Funcoland when I was 4 years old, etc. Mario means a lot to me.

That being said tho, there was a point when Mario stuff started to slog me down, when NSMBWii and NSMBU were new and the same fucking render you saw everywhere of Mario blankly staring forward wouldn't go away. A lot of Mario stuff was trapped in that limbo, that boring, soulless, hollow limbo of generic stale garbage. The videogame equivalent of a goddamn saltine, just without the salt.

Odyssey is Mario again. Odyssey is Mario to the highest degree by, ironically, being different. Mario feels like Mario, he looks like Mario, his pudgy jolly physique completely tops his lanky weird Wii-era build and the 3D art has finally harmonized with the old 2D stuff. Running around in Odyssey feels like the best adventure ever because every world is so different. Sunshine felt like a vacation with Mario, like a place you could really go to. Odyssey brings that vibe back, you feel like you're a part of it. It doesn't feel like you're sitting back and watching stuff happen, you feel so pulled in. The best thing about Odyssey tho is how different it is. It's different while Mario himself is the same. That's like, a quintessential key to feeling like an adventure. You know who Mario is, but you don't know what you're in for this time, and it feels totally magic. Everything feels strange, and the bits and pieces of familiarity make these environments feel even more foreign. Running into an old enemy is like running into an old friend.

The references to older games don't even feel like "forced nostalgia-pandering" or whatever, it feels like cohesion. Like things just exist and make sense now, these worlds and kingdoms and costumes, like "oh, so this is how the world works in Mario".

I love the music. I dunno what else to even say about that, the OST fucking rules and I love the vocal tracks. The Honeylune track for the Bowser part is insane, it's so out of left-field and I was completely blown away because I would absolutely never expect something like that in a Mario game. The early-2000s rock-poppy sound of it melted my heart and had me tearing up, it was like it tapped into my soul and this rush of feelings poured out, memories of summer days spent playing Sunshine while my uncle blasted music on his sound system pulsed through me and it was like every inch of dust that had collected on my heart was blown off. Memories of my mom, young and still in her 20s, singing Avril Lavigne songs. All the negative shit I've gone through, all the pains and bullshit of growing older and losing people and dealing with depression felt burned away immediately, if but for a moment, by this freaking game. By this familiar mustachioed cartoony face who's been with me for as long as I can remember. None of the bad stuff that's happened since I was a little kid mattered, I felt like me again. I felt like an excited bouncy goofball playing Super Mario Sunshine flopped down on the living room floor again. Memories of the past flooding through my head while I played, fused with the energetic happiness of everything in Odyssey like... I dunno, it revitalizes me. I know I sound really pretentious and I'm kinda tearing up hard as I type this stuff but I love this game. I love Odyssey. I love Mario. I'm so extremely glad to live in a world where this game exists, and no matter what awful shit is going on in the world or in your life Mario's always there and he's always himself and he always reminds you that everything is gonna be alright, because the kinda colorful dreamlike perfection of this game is like, "maximum good future".

I wish more people played games. I genuinely believe video games can save the world. I'm blabbering really hard right now and should probably stop.

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sian22redux · 7 years

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He followed me home, chap. 4

Title: Hew followed me home,,

Rating: T

Summary : The whole world gets involved when you and your new boyfriend, Chris Evans, adopt a friend for Dodger but then can’t settle on a name. .

This chapter: Chris and reader navigate some unexpected twists. Fluff and some angst, a teensy bit of social anxiety and a little making out.

Happy Birthday @theycallmebecca!! We’re finally at the end! Thanks so much to @arizonapoppy for her awesome and timely help. Oenethera5 is the one who came up with the winning name. Hope you all like it. Because I rushed to get this up for Becca’s big day it is not beta’d. If y’all spot anything too heinous let me know :)

You can find Chapter 1 etc. here: He Followed Me Home, .tags for folks below the cut

----------------------------------------------- .

Two weeks after puppy comes home Chris goes back to work.

There’s a whirlwind of press to do for Red Sea Diving and Avengers 3, and with the rave reviews for both (and his Broadway debut) your giant, bouncing labrador of a boyfriend is on a high.

This night his assignment is Jimmy Kimmel Live.

The Town car pulls up in front of the old masonic lodge that hosts Kimmel’s studio and you’re thinking ‘Wow”. Already the crush of tourists and fans outside the doors snakes past El Capitan’s classic art deco theatre to Ghirardelli’s chocolate shop, held back by a line of security and police. The walk of fame with its stars outfront has a red carpet laid on top. The facade looks elegant; all stone columns and ionic capitals, banners and bright lights.

Flashbulbs are already popping before Chris finishes his call with Susan, his long time publicist.

“Fine. Yeah. I know. I know. I’m good. Breathe. Yup, I’m breathing. See you at 10 for dinner.” He swipes his phone shut and smiles weakly across at you, leg going a million miles an hour. The nerves never get any easier. They do this before almost every show—Susan, the pro, talking him down, getting the noisy brain in gear, but this time with the Avengers hype off the dial, they decide it might help if you came along.

(Officially you are representing Getaway and reporting back on audience response. Unofficially you are there to stand in the wings and wish calming vibes his way.)

The evening mercifully starts out light and easy.

Jimmy loves Chris as an interview: they always have fun and joke around, but he knows his subject well enough to go a little slow while his guest gets in the groove.

“What is new with you?” he asks, smiling broadly, clapping Chris on the shoulder as he sits on the soft grey wool of the couch, bobbing his head at the wild applause and nervously smoothing his tie in place.

“Not much. Filming. Hanging out.” Chris huffs a breath and smiles, trying to act nonchalant, adjusting his cuffs and surreptitiously wiping his sweaty palms on his dark suit pants. “A ten city press tour.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows head for the ceiling. “Not much? Other than being everywhere on screen and nearly breaking the internet tweeting about your dog?”

Chris laughs and Jimmy explains whole missing Dodger thing to the audience. “For the few folks who spent this year underneath a rock—this is Dodger. And this is where we all thought he died!”

Pictures of Dodger show up on the big screen backdrop; the pining tweets that were misinterpreted; the amazing video shot by Carly of their reunion. The audience is oohing and awwing and clapping loudly.

“I know, I know. What can I say?” Chris shrugs. “Dodger’s a pure soul. It was hard. It was hard. I was in South Africa and I missed him. For months. He took it hard but I wasn’t gonna put him in quarantine.”

Jimmy smiles. “Nah. I get it. It’s rough. But next just time warn us ok?” He turns to the camera, all mock serious. “And Twitter? Jack you listening? Give this guy 280 characters right now—cuz jeez I don’t think our hearts can handle too short Evans tweets.”

Chris throws back his head and laughs, grabs his pec for a sec, shaking his head, full on going for it as the whole studio cracks up. “Suuure that’ll work. I get to word vomit more.” He mimes grabbing for a barf bag and waves the idea away. You’re smiling, watching him relax. Thank heaven. So far it’s going great. “No Twitter.. please. Do not.” He shakes his head and settles back into his seat, beaming a sunshine smile. “But seriously—it’s all good. When I have to be away, we’ve got a solution for it now.”

Kimmel raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“We adopted a puppy.”

The whole audience in unison goes ‘Awww” and suddenly Chris is pulling out his phone, flipping through his pictures to show Jimmy one of the two amigos on the lawn, Dodger sitting tall and puppy flopped at his feet.

He holds the screen facing out toward the seats. The camera zooms in and out, trying to focus and Jimmy turns to ask the stage manager: “Can we get that up? The little fluffball is pretty cute.”

Magically, the picture is caught and appears on the backdrop: puppy and Dodger beyond life size and so adorable the audience is cooing. Jimmy nods at the screen. Chris nods, smiling like the proudest papa at the two of them but then suddenly, laser like, Jimmy turns back to Chris and picks up on what was said.

“We?”

Chris blushes bright red as a tomato then pales to an unhealthy shade of white.

Standing in the wings, you think “oh shit.” He’s probably in panic mode; brain berating him for slipping up, worrying all at once what Susan’ll say, and how to talk his way out, and if he’ll fuck up more.

You heart goes out to him. This is exactly the type of nightmare scenario guaranteed to bring out his anxiety. You watch him awkwardly cross and recross his legs, stroking his tie down again and stalling for more time.

“A friend” That’s all he has to say, he doesn’t need to give any more but for some reason he’s biting his lip, fingers tapping on his slacks, agonizing. This is his least favourite part of the biz but surely Jimmy won’t give him too hard a time?

The silence is getting a little long. Come on Chris. You’re an actor. Just fudge an answer. You’re pleading in your head and then it comes.

And you almost drop your notes in shock.

“My girlfriend and I.”

An instant giant collective groan emanates from the audience. Cieto, Jimmy’s band leader, right on cue leads the house band in a mournful dirge. You’re frozen, thinking that at least no one there knows it’s you, as your phone buzzes in your hand.

It’s Susan. Of course it is. She watches all his events and you just know she’s madly texting “wtf???”

Jimmy can barely speak for chuckling.

“Folks. Folks,” he pleads, palms up, getting the hooting of the audience to calm down. “Oh my god, you heard it here first. The scoop of the year. Chris Evans is no longer single and the internet is about to break again.”

You’re dying. Just dying, trying to keep your face straight, head whirling at the implications. What??!! Fuck, Chris. How long before someone finds out it’s you? Days if you’re lucky and that thought makes your stomach knot. What will Anthony and Joe say? How will you handle all the crazies? You’re picturing shit-tons of hate mail, a posse of paparazzi at the gate when you get home and wonder if you can scale the cliff at the bottom of the lawn to drop into Christina Applegate’s backyard next time you have to leave.

Maybe you should leave right now? Maybe you should get a taxi to your apartment? Not be seen going back to Laurel Canyon but then what would puppy and Dodger do?

You’re just picturing never dining out again, never jogging on Mulholland, when you notice that Chris, the shit, is grinning like a loon.

What?!

The noise finally subsides. Jimmy leans over and asks: “How long has it been?”

Chris takes a breath, licks his lips, slouches a little lower and weirdly almost looks relaxed. Some colour has come back into his cheeks. “Four months.”

“Four months? So new!”

“Yeah. Yeah. New but feels so right. It’s like she’s always been there, you know?”

Jimmy’s nodding, says something about that was how it was for him and a shy smile creases Chris’s face. You’re melting; a little dizzy at the heartfelt words.

It is? What did he just say?

Your brain has gone from panicked to short circuited: replaying that sentence over and over. You ignore your phone’s frantic buzzing, miss most of Jimmy’s saying until he asks, curious as a cat. “How did you keep this secret?”

Chris grins. “She’s Anthony Russo’s right hand. Goes almost everywhere that I do with the Avengers movies being made.”

Ok that’s good. Good. He’s brought it back to the reason that he’s there—press for Infinity War—you think that Jimmy will move on to the debut but then Chris does the unthinkable.

Perhaps he’s still a little flustered or maybe his brain invaded for a moment by the God of Mischief.

He waves his big strong hand toward the right stage wings. “She’s here.”

Oh my fucking god.

A studio camera whips right ‘round but you’re in shock. You can’t believe it. Your carefully protected secret. Held for months. Friends and family have sworn a pact. Every little move carefully choreographed and this impetuous goofball has just outed you to the world!

There’s a producer in headset tapping you on the shoulder but you’re shaking your head; turning away and bending over. Hiding your face in your hands and clutching your clipboard hard, thanking every god you know that you’ve worn a business suit.

(Out of the corner of your eye you can see the feed. Oh great. Your ass is on national television. Hastily you straighten up.)

Over on set Jimmy’s hand is waving lazily at you to come out. The audience is clapping, louder and louder but still you mutely shake your head.

No. Way. This is Chris’s thing. You are not stepping into his limelight. Marvel’s limelight. Fuck, Kevin Feige is gonna have an aneurysm.

Jimmy, the heartless bastard, is still laughing. “She’s kinda shy.

“Not really…but,” Chris stutters. He’s wide-eyed and worrying. Trying to apologize. “I’m sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

He didn’t mean to what? Implode your world? Live? The buzzing in your pocket has gone nuclear. Your hear Anthony’s dedicated tone and Joe’s. A few others with no alert and you wonder if it’s his agent Josh and manager Brad, on top of Susan. Oh god. You��re almost hyperventilating. Will you get fired? Will you still have a job on Monday morning? Will your friend Lena who you haven’t told ever speak to you again??

Jimmy looks over anxiously at you and, bless his sensitive soul, gets that this might be a little much. They cut the feed away and like a pro, he starts to dial it back

“Ok… What’s her name?”

“Y/N.”

“And where did you meet?”

“On the set of Avengers 4.” Suddenly you’re thinking of Frank Grillo. Another excitable Marvel guy with Italian parents. Talks with his hands as if he’s conducting an orchestra but that moment he had nothing on Chris. The hands you love are almost dancing as he relays Bautista’s accident, excitedly talks about your mutual love of baseball. It’s adorable and overwhelming.

But still not what Chris is being paid to do.

You think you are about to be in the clear when Jimmy launches his next question.

“And what’s the puppy’s name?”

Chris chuckles and shakes his head. “About that….”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two events happen in the immediate aftermath.

Puppy’s nameless state becomes a thing. And your previously 250 follower-Twitter feed explodes.

By the time you make it back into his dressing room your name is trending. Chris holds you anxiously in his arms, apologizing over and over until you have to put your hands across his mouth.

“It’s ok.”

“It’s not. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t.” He frowns, runs his hands up and down your arms. He smells of aftershave and the heavy sweet lilies stuffed into a giant crystal vase. You normally hate their smell but weirdly not in that moment.

“Well I do, but shit. Y/N, I love you. I just couldn’t hold it in.”

A giant bloom of hope and happiness races through your chest. “And I love you.” You’re crying and laughing all at once. “Chris Evans, you are such a fucking meatball.”

“Yeah. Well I’m your meatball.”

The searing kiss lasts until a panicked Susan, come down in person, knocks upon the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out Chris Evans trending for any reason short of murder is good for Marvel too.

The next day you a get bazillion texts from friends, get grilled by Susan and Chris’s agent Josh about your past until Chris is forced to growl, and learn all about block chains out of necessity. While you and Chris were lying in (naked, oblivious and very occupied) that morning some enterprising hack went to work with Getaway’s employee list and guessed your twitter handle.

Shit. Lesson learned.

The afternoon is spent fielding calls and messages. The most precious text you get is from Tara, Chris’s best best friend. You’ve only met her once, overwhelmed in the giant Evans-Capuano New Years party where you first met his family. She was lovely but you haven’t really talked.

Wow. Deep breath. Guess this means it’s real.

And kind of overwhelming. Chris is off again in days for the long-planned European opening of Infinity War and you’re at home, doing your job (the long lead in for Avengers 4 post production) and holding down the fort. This includes taking Dodger and puppy out, and at first you’re nervous, knowing you will be followed, Josh arranges for guards to enforce a breathable perimeter away from the vile, scum-sucking paps. It works. Folks get the hint mostly and eventually leave off.

But the fuss over puppy’s nameless state? That keeps on going….

Chris tweets about the new member family: a hundred thousand responses in the first two minutes. He mentions that puppy has learned to sit and stay and it goes viral. Your twitter and his are literally inundated with puppy names—yours from friends and his from fans. Even random peeps on the street get in on the act.

Instead of Miles’ ‘I don’t wike it” being called out to him, people now shout puppy names.

He laughs, and like Steve Rogers, pulls out a small notebook and writes them down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This state of ridiculousness lasts for the whole time that he is gone.

Thank heaven you can telework. Chris’s normally immaculate office is a riot of your stuff but it sure helps. Puppy is growing so fast, he needs constant supervision. First he jumps up and gets the car keys off the island; chews them until the car alarm goes off. Then he slides across the kitchen floor and accidentally knocks the cupboard kick plate out. A priceless Himalayan poppy is shredded into tiny, forlorn blue bits. A rather more mundane knitted sock winds up, unraveled, strung between lounging chairs.

You amuse Chris by texting pictures of the contraband.

Puppy’s personality grows just like his paws. He’s smart and biddable, if anything almost more of a sap than Dodger. You work on leash training, and sit and stay, endure the inevitable hilarious tabloid pictures of puppy looking confused at the walking park. He loves to snuggle at your feet but also is more skittish, less confident than Dodger-- easily spooked-- and you suppose this is because the wide world is so big and new. Dodger was a rescue but grew up in a home. Puppy has spent all his days inside a cage.

It comes out, sometimes, in hilarious and unexpected ways.

One day he shies away from, but then furiously demolishes, an ‘indestructable’ Ovis frisbee. Another he barks manically at barbeque sauce. Once he cowers at the sigh of just one trash can. (the other is ok??). The escape artist comes out when one morning he bolts through the closing electric gate. A startled photog thinks quick grabs him by the collar (That is a puppy? What is he? Cerebus?)

All this fills your time but still you miss Chris something fierce. He’s in Rome and Bucharest and Berlin. Running from event to event. Tired, stressed, and you wish you could be there.

All throughout the puppy name ideas keep coming in. After Renner instagrams ”Evans can’t name a dog” the suggestions come flying thick and fast and then the sneaky snarky shit goes to town—Jeremy puts it in a poll on his private app. The one he does for fans to interact with him. Of course you need to follow just to see what’s trending, to tease Chris with the top rated latest idea, and that is how you wind up in your pj’s, enveloped by twenty pounds of puppy and more of Dodger in the middle of the day when IW has its London premiere. Chris looks amazing in a silvered, deep indigo and mauve silk suit by Ferragamo. It’s edgy and fun—Mackie’s teases him about it but clothes horse Sebastian approves.

After the red carpet and introductions to the Prince and Princess (only you know how many times he’d practised that perfect bow) they take their seats and you shoot him a text with the latest names.

“Bruno?>

<Blah>

<He’s not a St Bernard>

There’s a pause. You wait patiently until the little dots start up again.

<Sry. Chris put popcorn down my shirt>

They are such kids. Pratt or Hemsworth. Either could be the culprit.

<Those Renner’s top rated stars?> This is followed by a barfing face.

You laugh. <Least it’s not doggymcdogface>

You’re pretty sure his answer counts as sexting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Chris gets back he and Susan hatch what they think is a brilliant plan for your proper coming out.

You hate it.

You are terrified.

Ten of days of complicated, exhausting back and forth between the CGI guys and studio pass in a whirl and before you know it the day arrives. May 3rd.

Infinity War’s New York Premiere.

You both fly out, leave Scott to sit at the house and start down the incredible set that lines the huge red carpet. Photographers, literally a hundred of them, have come from all over the world for this night. You are shaking like a leaf, beyond nervous as you’ve never been before. Chris’s stylist had picked out a gorgeous gown; ruched and slim, ice lavender, it’s right on with the latest trend and shows off your height. (The funky diamond and fluorite necklet Chris surprised you with is worth more than your monthly salary but he insisted.)

“You look beautiful.” Chris whispers in your ear, surreptitiously brushing his fingers across your ass. It makes you flush right as you both walk slowly past the waiting phalanx.

“Chris! Y/N! Here. Look here.”

“Chris! Chris! Here!”

“How’s puppy?” someone shouts and he answers right away.

“Great! He’s with my little brother.”

“Got a name yet?”

“Nope.”

There’s a ripple of laughter at that. You stand a little dazed. Chris holds your hand and strokes a warm palm across your lower-back and you aren’t sure which of you it calms the most. You keep expecting Susan’s assistant Joan to touch your elbow, the pre-approved signal to break away, but Chris keeps you there, shakes his head at her and holds you hard.

When Elizabeth and Scarlet sweep up and join him you step quickly back; let them flirt and laugh and answer questions; have a great time joking about how weird it was to work with bearded Cap. They seem lovely; you know them just a little from the set but you don’t ‘know them’ know them. Maybe at the after party you’ll get that chance.

Just when you begin frown and wonder if it’s weird you’re just standing there, a hand pulls at your elbow, drags you back to the centre of the throng.

It’s Robert. Beaming as he wraps you in a hug and plants the biggest kiss on your cheek. Tucks you at his side while you blush furiously. You know him a little more because you’d worked the Siberia unit set.

“Hey,” he smiles. “You good?”

“Trying,” you admit and he hugs you hard just as an overly made up woman in thigh high slit gown and sky high heels stalks forward and sticks a microphone in his face.

“Robert! Robert Downey Junior! Brooke from E! here. What do you think about the rave reviews Infinity War is getting?”

He smiles a little wanly, waits for her to acknowledge you and when she doesn’t ignores her question blithely. “Brooke, great to see you. Have you met Y/N? One of the best damn producers in the biz. She’s one of the reasons for those reviews.”

Oh lord, but RDj is like this. Positive, Lovely. And occasionally full of shit.

You are not a producer, you are a second assistant producer. You want to die but settle for digging an elbow in his ribs (He giggles, but of course Robert has the chutzpah to pull it off).

Miss-self-centred-celebrity-interviewer frowns, plucked brows furrowed into a fairly accurate image of permanent confused surprise. “Great,” she bullshits and gamely ploughs right on. “Robert any predictions you want to make?”

She means about fan response. Folks expect the movie has been hyped but you know, frame by frame, how great it is.

You smile a little proudly, and glance up at Robert, wondering what he’ll say. His eyes are hidden by the trademark coloured glasses but something about the stiff set of his jaw says he’s pissed. By how rude she is.

His answer makes your jaw almost hit the floor.

“Predictions? Sure.” He looks fondly down at you and then over to the big muscled guy to his right. “Y/N here will be the best damn thing that ever happened to Chris Evans.”

Wha..? …?”

Before you can even frame a coherent thought Robert quips “See, look at this. He can’t be away from her for more than a heartbeat.”

It’s true. Chris has hoped back to grab your hand again and now you are sandwiched between your gorgeous boyfriend and one of Hollywood’s true legendary stars. You sneak a peek at them both. They’re happy and grinning and bantering back and forth.

The part of you that isn’t terrified wants to pinch yourself at where you are.

Later, in the theatre’s dark with an epic battle raging overhead, you reflect on how freaky your life has become. Before it was secrecy and haphazard dates; knees touching under table cloths and walking late in the evening with no one about. Now it’s sitting next to this amazing man, in public in the middle of the afternoon, while he squeezes your knee and kisses your palm every chance he gets. Like a pair of giddy teenagers you whisper to each other, touch and flirt, get shushed by a grinning Scarlet.

It’s amazing and crazy and just like a dream but it gets even crazier the next day when E! magazine runs the byline “Is this the one?”. Next to a picture of you, one hand on Chris’s chest, looking up adoringly into his eyes. He has the softest smile and looks so happy he could burst.

Tara texts <I sure hope so>

All you can think is when did they take that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You fly back to Los Angeles and Chris does Chicago and D.C. but, finally, mid-May he is back home. Dodger and puppy are overjoyed. You settle into something of a routine. Work, workouts, hanging with friends, keeping up on puppy training. Walking puppy three times a day to keep him happy and just a little less rambunctious. The world has got used to the idea that you’re a thing so a few less paps haunt the gate.

Puppy by default gets called puppy all the time.

One Saturday morning you are both huddled on the couch indulging a second cappuccino when Chris’s phone rings. It’s Susan’s tone. Reluctantly he puts it on speaker phone so he doesn’t have to hold it to his ear.

His lips are kinda occupied, buzzing along your collarbone.

“Hmmm, Suz? What’s up?”

“A new invitation came in for an event I think that you should do.”

Chris frowns, wondering why this has to be handled now. “When?”

“End of June.”

“Kinda busy with Red Sea opening near then.”

“I know. But I think you’ll really want to see this one.” Susan sounds like she is smiling. Intriguing. Normally she’s so straight-faced, looks more like a poker player with a shitty hand.

“Ok.” Chris is shrugging as you mime a question.

“I’ll send the car over with the invite.”

Now? Wow. It obviously is a major deal.

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, Dodger and puppy race for the door, stand there with tails wagging while Chris accepts the envelope from Susan’s driver.

He flops back beside you on the couch. You scoop puppy up, give him a scratch behind both silky ears while Chris runs a fingernail under the flap.

“Holy shit!”

You lean over and peer across his muscled shoulder. “What is it?”

“An invitation from the Bosox’s owner John Henry himself.”

“To what?” you ask, thinking of his beer-drenched, football weekends with the guys. This would be a perfect opportunity but you’re the Red Sox’s biggest fan. Maybe Scott could sit again and you both have a weekend to yourselves?

“Their ‘dog day at Fenway’”

“What?!” You squeal. “Yes!” You shake puppy’s paw and his kiss his snout. “Oh my god little guy you get to see the Green Monster for yourself.”

Chris laughs. The Green Monster is Fenway Park’s fabled left field wall. The highest in the MLB. “So long as he doesn’t piddle on it. We’re going to do it then? Says here they need an answer by Monday.”

You shake your head incredulously at Chris. “Are you kidding? Our favourite team? The most famous field in all of baseball! Of course we’re doing it! And besides, our first date was there. It’s awesome.”

It is. Dodger, catching some of your excitement, gets all keyed up. He jumps up and puts his paw on Chris’s knee. His master gives it a grave shake, purses his lips thoughtfully. “Hmmm. Maybe we can take a couple days off. Hang with mom and everyone. Charter a jet to make it easy to fly both these dudes.”

You like that idea. The only thing dampening your enthusiasm was the thought of putting puppy in an airplane hold. Chris reaches down and gives Dodger’s head a pat before looking across at you, a slow smile spreading along his lips. Your soulful boyfriend has saved the best bit for last.

“They want me to throw out the first pitch. With Dodger and puppy there.”

“Woohoo!!” That’s it. Pandemonium breaks out. You’re up and dancing with an excited, yipping ball of fluff in your arms, while Chris grabs Dodger and gets his face washed excitedly.

“We need red ribbons for their collars,” you exclaim, “and to get them groomed and…”

“Whoa. First things first. I need to work on my pitch.”

“Oh I can help with that. I’ve got good hands.”

With a glove you mean, but Chris chuckles mischievously and leans in to catch your lips in his. “I know. Maybe we should go work on ‘signs’.”

Oh god. You laugh through the feather softness of his kiss along your jaw, shiver as it presses harder and finds the hollow of your throat. So good. Your eyes are starting to glaze over while a perfect liquid heat pools low in your core. Several blissful moments are then lost to making out before the ‘kids’ begin to wriggle.

Puppy’s whining in that way that says he needs to pull up a tree

Reluctantly you break apart and make a face. “Parent time.” Chris sets Dodger down and goes over to the French doors, slides them open and lets both dogs out into the yard. It’s warm and a little hazy. You grab your half empty mug and the invitation, sit at the outdoor dining table to read it through.

God this is incredible. They want Chris to throw out the first pitch and join Mr. Henry in his suite. Lead the seventh inning stretch and bring you too. You’re named. Wow. It’s unbelievable. You look up at Chris and smile, shielding your eyes from the climbing sun.

He’s stretching out his shoulders, flexing to get out the kinks. It makes you want to run your hands up underneath his shirt.

Focus Y/N, focus.

You tap your fingernails thoughtfully on the mug. ‘Fenway. I still can’t believe it. Puppy and Dodger going to Fenw… Wait. That’s it!” You sit straight up. It’s perfect. How had you never thought of it before?

“What?” Chris swipes your mug to take a swig, cocks one eyebrow, keeping half an eye on the dogs as they go about their routine.

“Puppyu needs a name. Before we get to the park. Look.” You shake the heavy vellum under Chris’s nose. The Red Sox’s address is in big green lettering at the top.

“Fenway. It’s the perfect name.”

Chris looks over at the little guy, chasing after Dodger with his tongue lolling out and ears flapping in the wind. It’s been two whole months since you brought him home. Two months that feel more like two days and have been an amazing ride.

“Fenway. Dodger and Fenway. I love it. It so works.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Epilogue.

From Boston’s NESN-TV feed. June 27, 2018. Jerry Remy and Steve Lyons announcing.

“Well folks look at that. It’s a high looping curve ball, right over the plate and Vasquez nabs it easily. He jogs out to the mound. Hands it straight to tonight’s special first pitch guest: Chris Evans. Captain America himself has just thrown out the ball on tonight’s Sox-Tribe game. A long anticipated matchup that is sure to be a slug fest.”

“You’re right about that Jerry. The fans, and their pooches, are keyed up for this game on ‘dog day at Fenway’, brought to you by Nutrisource and the Sox’s great management. 37,000 here tonight. Almost capacity.”

“How many dogs?”

“No official stat on that…but the two cutest gotta be out on there right now. Dodger and Fenway. Chris Evans’ and his girlfriend Y/N’s pups.”

“No doubt about it Steve. They’re both being very good dogs there, standing with Miss Y/N. Now Mr. Henry and tonight’s managers, Alex Cora and Tito Francona, and the plate umpire come forward to shake Mr Evans’ and Miss Y/N’s hands. Starting pitcher Drew Pomeranz tips his cap. We’re just waiting for Mr. Henry to say a few words.”

“Hmm. There seems to be a bit of a delay. Can you tell what’s going on? The big wigs have all stepped back.”

“Not sure. Wait. Oh lordy. Mr. Evans has gone down on one knee.”

“Yup. No doubt about it. Folks we are witnessing history here. Mr. Evans is holding Miss Y/N’s hand and pulling something out of his pocket. It’s looks sparkly and suspiciously like a ring. Miss Y/N is nodding her head and those are definitely tears upon her face.”

“What an amazing moment. The crowd is on its feet. The whole stadium is pounding from the cheering. Mr. Evans has now stood up and wow that kiss might just bust our rating.”

“Dang it, Jer, there’s something in my eye.”

“Mine too. What a phenomenal way to start this series. The organist has struck up ‘It’s a Wonderful World’ and there’s one heck of powerful hug going on down there.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

“And gal.”

“Absolutely. They’re slowly starting to walk off, hand in hand, waving to the crowd and the dogs are trotting along. A storybook start to a new life. We wish them every happiness.”

“We sure do. Look at that. Both dugouts have emptied to salute them. Nice touch. Class acts both teams.”

“For sure. And while the happy couple take a few last waves the infield has filed back to their spots. Pomeranz is scuffing his cleats on the spike cleaner, getting ready for his set up.”

“It’s a beautiful and special night Boston. Let’s play ball.”

------------------------------------------------------

@sweet-empowerment @miss-cap21 @brooklyn-to-battlefields @inkwellsandmagicspells @maggieskeleton @imagine-cats96 @mewsiex @yourtropegirl @its-forevermore @dirajunara @s0eul @our-sharona @avaalons @lumelgy @mycapt-ohcapt @mypatronusismrpricklepants @3dsaunt @mrchristopherrobert @our-jasmine-universe @rayleyanns @s8sense @tinaferaldo @callamint @emilyevanston @interstateofmind @lilnerdy @666themarkofthebitch @thestarlighthotel @doloreschanel @pegasusdragontiger @zkkn

#He followed me home #finally #sian22redux #writes #@theycallmebecca #chris evans #dodger #reader #puppy

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foundcarcosa · 6 years

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ccxcviii.

1. Do you like Ferrero Rocher chocolate?: >> It’s one of the very few candies I like. I won’t eat more than two in like a week, though. Ever look at the nutrition facts? 2. What’s the most expensive thing your car needed to get done?: >> --- 3. If you had a thousand dollars to spend on a pricey brand you like but can’t really afford (until now of course), which ONE brand would you chose?: >> Manaka. 4. Do you still own any clothes you had in middle school? Like what?: >> No. 5. Do you like candy canes?: >> I like the Red Hot ones, and the Jolly Rancher ones.

6. What genre was the last movie you saw? And was it any good?: >> The Producers is a musical. I found it very enjoyable. 7. Do you think George Clooney was hot when he was younger?: >> I’ve never cared for George Clooney. 8. …what about now?: >> Still don’t. 9. How many pairs of flip flops do you own?: >> One. 10. How old were you when you got your first Tumblr/LJ?: >> I was around 23 or 24 when I first joined tumblr, I think. 11. Remember Teen Ink? Did you ever submit anything to them?: >> That sounds vaguely familiar, but not familiar enough to suggest I’d spent a significant amount of time on it.

12. Do you still talk to any of your old teachers?: >> No. 13. Do you have Twitter? What do you mostly use it for?: >> I do, but I keep forgetting the entire website exists. It’s not compelling enough, I guess, and the important people I follow on there also have tumblrs, so. 14. What color is your cell phone?: >> Rose gold. 15. How many cell phones have you had in your lifetime?: >> Somewhere around 15 or so, I’d say. 16. Does your family still use the home phone or are you all on cell phones now?: >> There’s no landline in this household. 17. How old were you when you got your first cell phone?: >> Seventeen, incidentally. ~ 18. Enough with the phones. When is/was your 21st birthday?: >> It was in 2008. 19. What color was the dress you wore to your senior prom?: >> Black and burgundy. 20. Ever go to another school’s prom?: >> No. One was more than enough. 21. Ever take melatonin supplements to help you go to sleep?: >> No. 22. Do you like burning candles or incense?: >> I prefer incense. 23. Do you like doing laundry?: >> It’s not the worst chore in the world, but it’s pretty tedious. 24. Ever throw a pair of your shoes in the washing machine? How did they come out?: >> No. 25. Do you own a real pair of Uggs?: >> No. 26. Do you ever venture into the woods? What do you normally do there?: >> Sure. Hang out, I guess. Nothing special. I just like being in there. 27. Favorite pizza toppings?: >> Green peppers, onions, mushrooms, that sort of thing. 28. Favorite salad dressing?: >> Balsamic vinaigrette or Kraft’s Tuscan House Italian. 29. What’s the most you’d spend on a new pair of jeans?: >> I don’t know. Gap makes the jeans that fit me best, but I don’t know how much they cost (the pair I have I got from Sparrow).

30. Do you like to wear shorts or capris in the summer?: >> I like skirts and shorts. 31. What do you think of bermuda shorts?: >> I like them. 32. What does your bathing suit look like this year?: >> I haven’t owned a bathing suit since I was a minor. 33. Are you ready for summer 2018?: >> I’m ready for spring. One season at a time. 34. Did you ever use iconator.com? Are you upset that it’s gone now?: >> I probably have. 35. Speaking of AIM icons… do you still use AIM?: >> No. 36. Do you still buy CDs?: >> No. If I want an album in a physical medium, I’ll probably just buy the vinyl version now. 37. Be honest…how much of the music in your iTunes library did you actually pay for?: >> I think like three albums have been actually bought. And the Leo Moracchioli stuff was bought through Patreon. Considering I have almost 10k songs in my library, that’s hilarious. 38. Does your significant other ever make you mix CDs?: >> No. I’d love for someone to make me a playmoss or something, though. The idea of making a mixtape for someone you like is one of my favourites, and now online playlists make it even easier. 39. How often do you have to empty your text inbox because it got full?: >> I haven’t had to empty mine. 40. Does your phone have a keyboard, touch screen, or neither?: >> Touch screen. 41. How did you dress your freshman year of high school?: >> I didn’t have a specific style because I wasn’t given full control over what I wore. 42. What religion are you?: >> None.

43. What color are the pajama pants you wore last?: >> I’m wearing black ones right now. 44. Were you obsessed with the Spice Girls back in the day?: >> No. 45. What does your wallet look like?: >> I use a David Bowie zip pouch as a wallet. 46. Is your middle name embarrassing?: >> No, it’s lovely. 47. How many Facebook friends do you have? Do you add people you don’t know sometimes?: >> 118. No, they’re all people I know in some capacity, even if distantly. 48. Do you like pumpkin pie?: >> I’m not crazy about it, but I’ll eat it. 49. What’s your favorite kind of yogurt?: >> YoCrunch Oreo all day. 50. Do you like frozen yogurt?: >> Sure.

#surveysofsamedi

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samthewrestlingfan · 7 years

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DIVE Epilogue

So here it is...the part I’ve been dreading!

I have enjoyed this series so much, and I can’t believe all of the love I’ve gotten because of it! Please enjoy the final installment of DIVE.

I’m so sad to see it go, but every good book had a final chapter!

I may release my new fic next Monday! I’m still tweaking it though!

I love you all! Thank you, Lovebugs <3

Until next time...

TAGLIST: @wrestlingbabe, @caramara3, @blondekel77, @isawthesights, @camm-wow, @panda-girl1999, @sxrxndipityy, @naturalmeadows, @alexahood21

"Happy Birthday, my beautiful little girl!" I exclaimed nibbling on her toes.

Sophie smiled up at me with her big, bright eyes. "A-ma!" She giggled.

"You're One my little love! Mama can't believe it!" I smothered her with kisses and she wiggled with laughter.

"A-da?" Sophie babbled, I smiled softly at her. "No, baby. I don't know where Dada is."

Seth had been disappearing more than usual the past few weeks. Always ducking out to go to the gym, being no where to be found when I woke up.

This morning Seth actually woke me up...

"Babe...Baaaabe..." Seth whispered as to not wake up Sophie.

"Wha--What is it? Is it the baby?" I sat up quickly, rubbing my eyes.

He stroked my hair softly, "No, No...I'm just heading out to get some stuff done before her party. I know I need to grab the cake, and balloons, but what else?"

The fact that he remembered the cake and balloons shocked me. "Um, no. That's it. Where are you going so early?"

"I just gotta get some stuff done...I'll be back in time for the party." He kissed my forehead, and kissed Sophie in her bassinet.

Now, It's 2 hours before her party and Seth isn't answering his phone, text or calls.

I clicked my twitter app, and glanced over to Sophie who started fussing. "Don't worry, Soph. He'll be back soon."

I hope... I thought.

I noticed I had a strange amount of notifications on twitter, so I clicked them. My timeline was full of fans tweeting me photos of Seth.

"Wonder if Ella has seen this?"

"Who is she?! Is he cheating on Ella?!"

"Seth Rollins is such a douchebag...cheating on his gf after she had a baby..."

My pulse pounded as I clicked the photos. They were of Seth in a black SUV, with a woman I didn't know. They both had sunglasses on, visors down to try and hide their faces.

I felt that familiar feeling of my heart dropping, and my stomach flooding with anger and sickness.

I threw my phone down, flopping into a chair. I rubbed my eyes from exhaustion, and to keep the tears at bay. I will not let him to this to me again, and I will especially not allow him to do this to Sophie.

I put her in her birthday outfit. I little white shirt with a black sequin '1' on it, pink leggings, and a pink and purple tutu with a matching headband.

"You're so beautiful, my sweet little girl." I kissed her chubby cheeks as I felt a tear fall down my cheeks.

I quickly wiped my eyes, and decided I would not let this ruin my daughter's first birthday. I'm gonna pull myself together, and make this the best day I can.

---

"You really know how to do it big, huh?" Dean joked, and kissed my cheek as he entered the sunny back yard.

I laughed as I smacked his arm, "Excuse me...this is your God Daughter's first birthday! Try and enjoy it?" I moved Sophie to my other hip, and she giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...gimme the kid!" Dean smiled as he kissed Sophie's cheeks over and over. Dean headed off to play with her and I continued to greet my guests.

"So wheres Seth, Munch?" Nia asked me, taking a sip of her punch.

I shrugged, I truly didn't know, nor do I honestly care at this point. "Not sure--he was suppose to be here hours ago with the cake. I guess he got held up."

I sipped my water, before moving my sunglasses from my eyes to the top of my head. Nia smiled softly and rubbed my back. "Sorry, Els."

"Dean! Gimme my God Baby!" Nia shouted across the yard at Dean; who was currently sat on the grass with Sophie.

I went inside to get more snacks for everyone when I heard my front screen door open.

Seth walked through the door, in a black vneck shirt, a backwards Black and Brave hat, and black denim jeans.

"Hi, Beautiful." He spoke softly, as he moved over to kiss me. I pushed him away and proceeded to grab what I needed for outside.

Seth looked confused, "Baby? What's the matter?"

I continued to ignore him. "Ella? Is this about the cake? I got it, it's just in the car!"

I put my hand up to him, "Seth, I will not start a fight in front of all of these people on my daughter's--"

"Our daughter..." He interrupted.

"Fine," I corrected myself, "On our daughter's birthday."

I shook his head in confusion, "What happened between the time I was gone and now? What did I do?"

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" I shouted a bit louder than I intended. I pulled my phone out, found the photos and threw it on the counter.

I scoffed, "I don't know what you did, but I can probably figure out who you did." My arms now crossed, anger and disgust rising in my stomach.

Seth's eyes widened with fear. "Oh my God! Ella no! Babe I swear I can explain this!"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure you can. I don't wanna hear it, Seth. I've been put through this once before with you."

"Ella, baby I swear please, please just gimme some time and you'll understand everything."

A sarcastic chuckle left my mouth, "I'm not doing this with you Seth. I'm going to check on Sophie."

With that I left the kitchen, and went back into the yard to see all of my friends spending time with my daughter. "Sophie!" I called, she turned her little head to me, and started to crawl her way to my feet. I scooped her up in my arms, and kissed the top of her head.

---

The evening was winding down, Sophie was resting comfortably in Nia's arms, as I chatted with Roman. Seth had once again disappeared, though to his credit he did come out and join the party, but he spent most of it with the boys.

"You doing okay? Roman asked me, taking a sip of his beer. I nodded, "Yeah why?"

"You seem distracted. Like you have somethin' on your mind. That's all."

I shook my head, "Nah. Just wondering what I did to deserve this life."

Roman hugged me, "Because you deserve it." he kissed my forehead.

"Excuse me, everyone!" Seth interrupted. He came walking out of the house with a bouquet of flowers, dressed in a suit.

"I'm sorry to disrupt the party, but I have an announcement. Now this isn't exactly the way I thought this would go...but what the hell?"

My friends seemed to part like the Red Sea, Seth walked to me slowly as he spoke. "4 years ago, I met a woman, stronger than anyone I had ever met before in my life,"

"I never thought she would go for me; why would she? She was beautiful, talented, smart, and had the biggest heart of anyone I knew,"

My heart fluttered at his words, my thoughts of earlier lingering in the back of my mind, but slowly being pushed out by my love for him.

"This girl, man. For some reason, I was lucky enough to take her on a date--a date mind you that went horribly wrong, and landed us in the middle of no where...but that first date and I knew, I could be anywhere, doing anything as long as I was with her."

Tears prickled my eyes, "A year ago, I was given a second chance, not just with her but in life. I got my beautiful little Sophie-Bear, who is so much like her Mom already."

Seth stood in front of me, and kissed my nose. "I don't ever want to chance being without her, or you. I've gotten through my life with nothing but dumb luck, but you and me Ella--this was fate. I love you."

Seth got down on one knee, "Ella that woman I was with earlier was a ring appraiser--she was coming with me to make sure this was legit." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box.

He opened it, and inside was the most perfect ring I had ever seen.

"...Ella, will you please, make me the happiest idiot in the world, and marry me?"

I let out a sob, I saw Seth's eyes brimming with tears, and I let out a shallow breath.

Nodding my head furiously, and my hands trembling, I managed to choke out a soft, "...Yes."

Seth smiled his cheesy grin, and slid the ring onto my finger. He rose to two feet, and planted a firm kiss on my lips. "I lost you once, Ella. I'm not going to lose you again."

Cheers and applause erupted from the party, everyone congratulating us.

"A-da!" Sophie called smiling. Seth's features widened as he moved over to her. "Hi birthday girl!"

"A-dada" She cooed gripping at his beard. He put his forehead on hers and kissed her nose, "Sorry, Dada stole your spotlight. But your Mama deserved it."

Sophie's head turned to me, almost like she forgot I was there for a second, "A-MAMA!" She giggled and clapped.

"Hi, my babygirl! Look at what Mama got!" I showed her my ring. She clapped again, and I kissed her hands.

---

Seth placed Sophie in her crib, and walked over to me. "Hi there--fiance." He kissed me deeply, and made my stomach flutter.

"I love you, Seth."

He squeezed my hands in his, "I love you too. You're everything to me, Ella." I kissed his jawline, my lips finding his.

Suddenly Sophie started crying, and I sighed, "Stay," Seth said, "I got it."

I flopped on our bed as Seth walked over with her in his arms, "So this is our life now, huh?" He asked happily.

Our daughter looked up at us and smiled. I couldn't help but smile back, "Yeah," I leaned on Seth's arm, placing a small kiss on it. "But this life is perfect."

#seth rollins #seth rollins fanfic #wwe seth rollins #seth rollins one shot #finale #DIVE #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe smut #monday night raw #raw #samthewrestlingfan

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