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brunchable · 1 year

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A Soulmate Who Wasn’t Meant To Be — Part 5 || Doctor Strange x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K Themes: Meddling Kids, Push n Pull, Comedy(?) Special Mentions: Peter Parker, America Chavez, Ned Leeds A/N: I apologize for the crackhead energy with this one but with Peter, America and Ned working together, I imagine it would end up like this LOL. Gif not mine. Credits to Creator.

“No.” You pushed Stephen out your door. You didn't care if he didn't have his sling ring or any extra clothes on. The embarrassment tonight was more than enough.

“Hear me out.” Stephen tries to reason with you as he backs up.

“No. No-no-no. No. Get out.” you shook your head and shoved him out of your door.

“I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can explain, and I’m equally sure I don’t want you to hear it. Goodbye.” You smile and was about to shut the door when Stephen uses hand to keep it open.

Seeing him tied up on your bed was enough explanation. He was trying to scare all the men away and never see you again—though the guy tonight was a huge red flag, Stephen probably scared away the good ones as well.

“It’s been months. We should be able to talk about it.”

“No. No-no-no. No. Get out.” You smacked his hands of and pulls the door closed—

“Don’t shut the door on my—DAMMIT.” Stephen grimaces in pain.

You look down and realized what you did by accident,“Move your foot.”

“Move the door.” He stubbornly replied.

“Move your foot or I will decapitate it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You decapitate heads, not feet.”

“Move your foot or I will de-foot you.” you seethed.

“That’s not even a word. C’mon. Hear me out. Please.”

“Move your foot.” you repeated firmly.

“Why not just open the door a little more and let me come in. See? It’s—DAMMIT. STOP DOING THAT. YOU’RE HURTING ME.”

“Stop hurting you? Stop hurting you? Congratulations. You win the Oscar for best verbal irony. Now take both of your feet and walk them and your sad sorry ass to your haunted house. Goodbye.”

“I know you are really mad at me. I can explain.”

“Mad at you? I don’t care enough about you to be mad at you. Frankly, I’m mad at myself.”

“You should be.”

You scoffed and pointed at yourself, “I should be mad at myself?!”

“Yes.”

“Oh, now please explain. Why should I be mad at myself?”

“Because you're giving up on us.”

“I gave up on us? Oh, I’m sorry I made you take me as a rebound and then dump me on my birthday—”

“But now I realise I made a terrible mistake.”

“That’s not a credible defence.”

“You really need to let me come in. We need to talk.”

“You really need to leave. Goodbye.”

“C’mon. We can move on from this. You know I am a late bloomer. I just need a little more time than most—”

“You are in your forties!”

“Exactly. Who really has it all together by their forties?”

You count with your digits, “Alexander the Great. Jesus Christ. Ex-convicts. Junkies. Nearly everyone. You deserve the door slammed in your face.”

“Yet here you are talking to me.”

“My mistake. Goodbye.” In an attempt to shut the door you hit his foor again.

“DON’T HIT MY FOOT—DAMMIT. THAT HURTS.”

“Then move your foot out of the door jam, and then move your carcass out of my life. It’s really quite simple.”

“I CAN’T MOVE MY FOOT. YOU HAVE IT WEDGED.” Stephen snapped, his eyes slightly glistening as his foot registers all the pain.

You gave his foot some allowance, “There.”

“Thank you. Now let me come in.” He makes an attempt to come in again.

You placed your hand on his chest and push him back out, “You stay on the other side of this door—just like the trash cans. The only difference is that the trash cans are useful.”

“Are you really going to throw away years together? Are you really throwing away our relationship?”

“I don’t have to throw it away. You did it for me. I’m just not picking it up again.”

“You know I love you.”

“You know I don’t care. The last straw was the last straw.”

“I can get you more straws.” He says, trying to lighten up the situation, which only infuriates you.

“I’m sure you can get me almost anything—anything but peace.”

“I can get you a piece of straw.”

“Your clever puns are wasted here. You’re exhausting. Just your presence is exhausting. Just leave.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Shut the door.”

“I’m going to.” you shrug.

“No one is stopping you. See? I have moved my feet. You have moved on. Now, shut the door.”

You narrowed your eyes at Stephen and shut the door on his face.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

It's been a few days since Stephen last sabotaged and practically made a show of himself in front of—you can't even remember his name anymore—the guy with mommy issues. You guessed that shaving Stephen off like a sheep taught him the lesson not to mess with you again.

You laugh at the memory of Stephen screaming and helplessly begging you not to shave him—Damn it! I should've waxed him. You thought to yourself, wishing you could turn back the time to give him all that pain.

It’s the middle of the night now, and you’ve finished your pint of Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream. Having ingested 200% of your daily sugar allowance, and since you couldn't put yourself to sleep after an hour of trying, you turned on the TV to watch some late night shows. Eventually it only became a background noise as you became distracted swiping through your tinder account to find any interesting people who for one, doesn't live with their mother or is overbearing.

"Are you staring at your phone, waiting impatiently for a monosyllabic message from your fickle lover to magically appear?" The man on the TV spoke. It was clearly a young man with a fake moustache. He walked over behind a girl with shoulder length black hair as she sat on the couch on her phone.

"Are you sick of meeting a "bae" on Tinder, opening up to them about your life while eating cold nachos and drinking watered-down margaritas, only to have them dump you three weeks later?"

Like a typical product advertisement, the girl nodded with a hopeful expression.

"Do you find yourself being a magnet for megalomaniacs, a sucker for swindlers, a filling station for womanisers?"

The girl nodded again.

"If so, you need to find out if You Are Being Ridiculous!™ " The camera zooms as the young man with a fake moustache pulls out his phone and presents the app being promoted.

"The next time you find yourself ugly crying in the bathroom stall, download the app by weeping directly onto the You Are Being Ridiculous!™ icon. Through the wonders of technology, your tears will be instantly analysed to see if You Are Being Ridiculous!™"

The TV shows a demonstration of the girl weeping on her phone before looking into the camera with terrible acting, "O-m-g! I am being ridiculous!"

"Your friends may have clued you in already because they don’t want to hear about your failed dates or relationship anymore—but when you are ready for a Cold Hard Truth Sandwich, we will make sure to leave out the baloney!

Perhaps you are entangled with a soulmate, or maybe it’s some average schmuck who has a treasure trove of mommy issues?

Maybe you’ve found a fallen angel who needs to overcome their childhood trauma, or maybe you landed a turd that needs to be flushed?

Either way, take the patented You Are Being Ridiculous!™ assessment, developed by licensed professional interns at Cosmopolitan magazine to see exactly why you give that complete loser the time of day.

But wait—there's more!

For nine instalments of $19.99, we will send your results to the TikTok therapist of your choice—because nothing says quality mental health counselling like an older white woman in an ill-fitting suit awkwardly dancing to “My Money Don’t Jiggle Jiggle, It Folds.”

So, are you ready to quit waking up in the middle of the night to confide in your new best friend, the ceiling? Are you ready to systemically deal with the fear, control, and power issues you have inside your own skull?

Then throw away those tissue boxes, call the number to chat with one of our experts, and get ready to find out if You Are Being Ridiculous!™

Just dial 1-800-4-give-him. That's 1-800-4-give him! Do it now.”

You grabbed the remote control and shut off the TV. You blinked and stared at the black screen weirded out about what you just watched. You shook your head and decided that it was time to go to bed.

The next morning

Alexa rings the alarm to wake you up, "Rise and shine, (Y/N). It's 21°C and sunny and a perfect day to forgive Stephen. . . " You roll onto your back, eyelids flying open when you realise what you just heard Alexa said, "Now Playing: When you left, I lost a part of me. It's still so hard to believe, Come back, baby, please, 'Cause we belong together."

You rose up like the undead and slammed your hand on the device to make it stop. You rubbed your hands to your face, "Damn it Stephen!" You yelled into the air.

He might've stopped sabotaging your dates for a while but now he's really getting creative at not giving you an ounce of peace. You turn off all of your gadgets, just in case an unsolicited announcement or advertisement pops up again.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You were waiting for coffee at Starbucks when the TV mounted on the wall began showing the billboard top hits, "Billboard brings you the top 100 greatest love songs of all time! We bring you classic love songs like, 'All you need is Stephen', 'If you can't find someone new to love, then love Stephen!', 'Do that to Stephen one more time!', 'You know you still love Stephen (He loves you long time)!'"

You look around to see if anybody else is seeing this and to your dismay, everyone else seems to be occupied with their own thing on their laptops and phones.

"(Y/N)?" The barista called out, playing your venti caramel macchiato on the bench.

"Thank you." You hastily grabbed your cup and looked back at the TV.

"And how can we forget about, 'Don't walk away from, Stephen. He has nothing if he don't have you!'"

You walk out of the store, "What the fuck—" Looking up at all the screens in time square got your head spinning.

"Download You Are Being Ridiculous!™ right now! Or call 1-800-4-Give-Him."

"I will always love you, (Y/N)! Now Streaming at Spotify."

"The Man Who Can't Be Moved, in theatres now!" An image of Stephen appears holding a cardboard with your photo in his hand.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"I don't think she's taking Phase Sadness all too well. . . She looks terrified more than sad." Ned watches you run away in the scrying crystal ball as he notified America and Peter who was still in costume after making the You Are Being Ridiculous advertisement.

"Oh wow you finally did it! Congratulations Ned." America smiles and gives Ned a supportive pat on the back.

Ned chuckles, "Yeah, after I broke twenty scrying crystal balls? That's two hundred years of bad luck. I'm surprised Sir Doctor Strange didn't kick me out yet."

Stephen's footsteps as he rushed down the undercroft sounded like thunder and when he arrived at the basement, he found America dressed as you, Peter dressed like a 70s news anchor and Ned hugging the scrying crystal ball on his lap.

"Can somebody explain. . .Why? Is. My. Face all over time square?!" Stephen's voice gradually got louder.

"It was Peter's idea." Ned blurted out of anxiety from Stephen's tone of voice, "Pan de sal?" Ned holds up a filipino bread roll.

"No. Thank you." Stephen blinks and then turns towards Peter, "Whatever this is, undo it. Now." He said sternly.

"Okay, okay—We'll shut down all hacking devices." Peter says in defeat and runs towards their laptops to shut down their programmes.

Stephen sighs rubbing his hands over his face, wishing that he should never have asked kids to help him out. If he they asked him what he wanted to do, he would do it right. He’d kiss you and tell you how much he loved you before he dropped down on one knee and begged you to forgive him. If you said no, then he would have courted you and proved to you how much he cared for you. He should have-

"Sorry, Stephen. We should've asked you before going ahead. . . We just got too excited." America looks down apologetically, "But we still have one more—"

"No. Nope! I have been shaved, kicked out of her apartment with nothing on but my underwear and now you deep-faked my face on the lead singer of The Script and then plastered my face all over time square?!" Stephen snapped with a frustrated growl, "What other ideas do you have planned? Paint my face on the moon?"

"Well actually, we didn’t deep-fake you. . . America went to another universe and filmed a homeless version of you. . ." Peter admitted as if it was going to make the situation any better.

Stephen's eyes scrutinised their faces one by one before bursting into laughter. The kids laughed along with Stephen uncomfortably with America leaning into Peter saying, "I think we broke him."

Stephen sighs as he stopped laughing and abruptly dropped his face into an angry scowl, "You guys have fifteen minutes to pack up your shit before I tell Tony what you've been using his tech for,"—Stephen point as Peter and then Ned—"Tell you're grandma that you actually learning magic,"—and lastly Stephen turns to America—"Take away your pizza privilege."

Stephen slowly walked toward Peter and ripped his fake moustache off.

"Ow. . ." Peter mumbled, stoke his upper lip.

"Stephen c'mon! It was a mistake! Give us a second chance! We promise we'll consult you before doing anything else stupid." America tried reasoning with Stephen, running up to his side and holding his arm pleadingly.

"Yeah, Doctor Strange, Sir. . . It’s just a test run?" Ned mumbled, still hugging the scrying crystal ball with the image of you closing your blinds at work to get away from all the madness.

"Fifteen minutes." Stephen iriterated once more, glancing at the image of you on thw crystal ball and left the undercroft so that the kids would clean up.

"Phase Sadness Status: Failed," Peter said after a moments of silence.

"No. We haven't even gotten to the better part yet. I refuse to give up when we barely even started!" America disagreed with Peter and stopped him from packing up.

"America, Stephen looked pretty mad. Plus I don't want Mr. Stark to take away my stuff." Peter said.

"Oh c'mon please? It's not going to involve hacking and the other stupid stuff we did—even though it was kinda funny— trust me! I'll talk to Stephen. We just need to wait under his head is not smoking in anger anymore."

TAGS: @sherlux @gaitwae @shit-post-things @seasonofthenerd @patbrdac @evelynrosestuff @severuined @farfromjustordinary @lovecleastrange @samisubi @mochuchi @faithinhome @ohchoices @junkertown-princess @sigyncevans @dragonqueen89 @the-royal-petals @hiddlechive @bobateadaydreams @lykaonimagines @valbensherstep @strangeobsessed @calsjack @crowleyspett @goldencherriess @jyessaminereads @fandom-lover-4 @tis-vereon @rbymoon @ronsbadidea @sunshineyrosie @strangefilms @justmewoo @imherefordeanandbones @winsteria @arioneway @strangefilms @siredlust @strangeions @gwephen @strangesweetheart @allie131313 @lokislov3 @classicrebound @lady-harvey @iobsessoverfictionalmen @saltykidcreation @cerene-ciderr @lokislov3 @thealleydog @jotaros-bara-tiddies @loolani

#stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch x you #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #doctor strange #dr strange x reader #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction

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cadmium-free · 4 months

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Funeral Parade of Roses (1969) - Watched on August 5, 2023

It spirals to its inevitable conclusion. We revisit a moment, a scene. A little more plays out, we step back or step forward. We live transfixed in a moment. Sometimes a scene mirrors another, it's all the same but with different details. There is no escaping fate, we can only be sucked closer and closer to our inevitable conclusion.

Stop Making Sense (1984) - Watched on October 5, 2023

I genuinely don’t think this needs any explanation or justification at all. I could watch it over and over and over and over and over.

Possession (1981) - Watched on October 17, 2023

It took me three sittings to get through this film and I wasn’t sure I liked it immediately after I finished it. And then it just simmered in my mind for days and weeks after until it finally clicked into place. I love the way Sam Neill moves in this. Everyone comments on the haunting way Isabelle Adjani looks directly into the camera, and yea. Yeah. Ok. Yeah. Yeah.

The Devils (1971) - Watched on June 26, 2023

I thought going into it with the full knowledge of Urbain Grandier would defang it, and perhaps this did soften the blow a bit, but it's audacious, frenzied, sensual. You get tangled up in its themes, its sensations, its torture.

Dog Day Afternoon (1975) - Watched on January 13, 2023

This set off a brief and ferocious obsession with Al Pacino. I have a strained relationship with films based on true crimes, but this slides past my qualms, perhaps just on the strength of the fact John Wojtowicz himself did write a review of it.

Bound (1996) - Watched on April 5 and August 19, 2023

The way Corky and Violet can come together with genuine trust so quickly. The way Ceaser can misunderstand Violet so fundamentally. The literal betrayal in realising who someone is.

Häxan (1922) - Watched on October 27, 2023

The 1922 equivalent of a Youtube video essay where a guy is like, "Guys, I just learned a bunch of fucked up facts about witches and witch trials. I think maybe we just execute women for being poor and mentally ill. Also aren't mental institutions a bit fucked up?" but like, a bit hornier than you would expect for the subject.

Cruising (1980) - Watched on January 17, 2023

It’s all about looking and being noticed. The camera is looking. Al Pacino is looking. The men are looking. And the ambiguity of the gaze and the plot.

Pontypool (2008) - Watched on October 4, 2023

It's a film about words. It's a film about broadcasting from a radio station and seeing nothing. Our imagination fills in the visual gaps. It's so much more horrifying to be piecing everything together from the safety of a recording booth.

The Lair of the White Worm (1988) - Watched on February 1, 2023

Hugh Grant—looking like a lesbian—who is a freaky little rich boy who believes in cryptids, Peter Capaldi—looking like a lesbian—sucking snake venom from a neck bite, an incredibly sexy snake woman with a house full of snake stuff, a giant snake puppet, surreal dream sequences, the coolest game of snakes and ladders ever made, snake dicks, weaponised bagpipe music, homoeroticism, and giant strap-ons.

Ravenous (1999) - Watched on October 19, 2023

This film is so offbeat and strange. It has the strange feel of a comedy, while being a really understandably grim depiction of cannibalism as manifestation of greed, expansionism, and colonization. I kept having these moments of shock that this was a studio movie, that studios were willing to make this film that so thoroughly deconstructs the American mythology.

Penda's Fen (1974) - Watched on July 6, 2023

The first movie in a long time that has made me feel as though I need to pick it apart like an essay, to rewatch multiple times and take notes and repeat sentences until I’ve done a thorough analysis. I've never had a film hit me in quite this way before.

#film #recs #long post #basically just making my letterboxd list here #i normally don't do a movie best of list for the year but i don't have ten non movies #station eleven and star trek are the only nonfilm things i would list i think

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trofysisters · 7 months

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Парни

Давно Алешка не приходил на эстрадную площадку, поэтому был немало удивлен, обнаружив рынок. (Alyoshka had not come to the stage for a long time, so he was quite surprised to find the market)

К счастью, саму эстрадную площадку не снесли, и даже нашлись энтузиасты, поддержавшие его выступление. (Fortunately, the stage itself was not demolished, and there were even enthusiasts who supported his performance)

Еще со сцены Алешка заприметил подарок для своей дорогой возлюбленной. (Even from the stage, Alyoshka spotted a gift for his dear beloved)

Поскольку его финансы пели романсы, лучшим подарком, который он мог себе позволить, стало мыло душистое. (Since his finances were small, the best gift he could afford was scented soap)

Вся надежда была на Петра, который сегодня работал. Однако, несмотря на повышение до продавца компакт-дисков, он был оштрафован за сломанный автомат с конфетами. Еще один удар по совместному бюджету парней. (All hope was in Peter, who was working today. However, despite being promoted to CD salesman, he was fined for breaking the candy machine. Another blow to the guys' joint budget)

Отсутствие денег не мешало Алешке принимать приглашения на тусовки. (Lack of money did not stop Alyoshka from accepting invitations to parties)

Только его новые друзья предпочитали баловаться бульбулятором, и Алешка постепенно втягивался вместе с ними. (Only his new friends preferred to indulge in the bulbulator, and Alyoshka gradually became involved in this activity with them)

Не забыл он и про даму сердца. Чтобы не кормить ее лобстерами в ресторане, повел он красавицу в парк аттракционов. (He did not forget about the lady of his heart. In order not to feed her lobsters in a restaurant, he took the beauty to an amusement park)

А там, в доме с приведениями, она кинулась ему на шею, и охваченные страстью молодые люди предались любви, невзирая на других посетителей. (And there, in a haunted house, she threw herself on his neck, and the young people, overcome with passion, indulged in love, despite the other visitors)

За это Алешка получил сумочкой по башке от блюстителя нравственности. (For this, Alyoshka received a blow to the head with a purse from the guardian of morality)

Зато его любовные подвиги не оставили равнодушными других девушек. (But his love exploits did not leave other girls indifferent)

Пока парень принимал от них знаки внимания, его спутница поменялась местами со своей сестрой-близняшкой. - У него хоть кошелек большой? - Кое-что другое у него большое. Сама проверь. (While the guy was accepting signs of attention from them, his companion swapped places with her twin sister. - Does he even have a big wallet? - He has something else big. Check it yourself)

Сестра проверила, и поняла, что хочет за этого мужчину замуж. (Her sister checked and realized that she wanted to marry this man)

И пока Алешка катался на американских горках, (And while Alyoshka was riding a roller coaster,)

она получила у автомата с предсказаниями обрадовавший ее прогноз: их любовь в будущем будет ослепительна. (She received a happy prediction from the fortune machine: their love in the future will be dazzling)

Тем временем возлюбленная Петра тоже желала связать себя с ним узами брака. Петр к этому был абсолютно не готов. (Meanwhile, Peter’s beloved also wanted to tie the knot with him. Peter was absolutely not ready for this)

Мог ли кто предположить, что, вернувшись домой и встретив в коридоре соседку, Алешка пожелает в нее влюбиться. Соседка разделала его желание. (Could anyone have imagined that, having returned home and met a neighbor in the corridor, Alyoshka would want to fall in love with her. The neighbor had the same desire)

А после страстной близости, Алешка решил сделать соседке предложение руки и сердца. Только бы не отказала. В конце концов, она не тянет из него деньги, не требует водить себя по ресторанам, дарить дорогие подарки. (And after passionate intimacy, Alyoshka decided to propose marriage to his neighbor. He was afraid that she would refuse. In the end, she doesn’t extract money from him, doesn’t demand to take her to restaurants, or give him expensive gifts)

Соседка в порыве радости бросилась Алешке на шею, (The neighbor, in a fit of joy, threw herself on Alyosha’s neck,)

В этот момент парень услышал доносящийся из коридора голос его красавицы. Она принесла подарок? Ему? (At that moment, the guy heard the voice of his beauty coming from the corridor. Did she bring a gift? To him?)

Аудиосистема не из дешевых. Ну и что ему теперь делать? Кого выбирать? (The audio system is not cheap. So what should he do now? Who to choose?)

#sims 2 #devchata #guys

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cherienymphe · 2 years

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all of my writing explores dark themes such as non-consent, dubious-consent, and a/b/o subjects. if any of this offends you, this has been your warning!

➯ dividers by @firefly-graphics | @straywords

➯ banner by me

『Homelander 』

『Ransom Drysdale 』

『Chris Evans 』

None of Your Concern

Costars for a little over a year, Chris has always been protective of you in the cutthroat industry much like a father would be. However, when he learns that your boyfriend is even older than him, he realizes that his feelings might not be so familial after all

Need to Know

Chris heard from a friend of a friend that that pussy was a 10 out of 10

…or the one where you’re shy and Chris gets curious.

『House of the Dragon』

『Coriolanus Snow』

A Caged Bird

Birds are best kept in a cage where one can see them…and where you know where they are at all times.

Everybody Knows That I’m A Good Girl, Officer

…and everybody knows. Everybody knows…that he fucks you.

『Geralt of Rivia 』

Late Bloomer

Geralt of Rivia saves you from more than just a werewolf attack. {alpha!Geralt}

『Sherlock Holmes 』

『Peter Ballard 』

My Lucifer Is Lonely

Peter is your comfort within these cold and sterile walls, and when they come crumbling down, they reveal the nightmare that lies inside.

『Walter DeVille』

Midnight Delights

So many maids have come and gone, but you seem to be the master’s favorite.

My Soul To Take

The search for your missing sister puts you right at Carfax Estate and in the clutches of the lord of the manor.

『Lucifer Morningstar 』

Promised

When you start waking up with bruises you can’t explain, your nightmares turn into a reality.

『Michael Gray 』

Gangsta’s Paradise

An agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.

『Steve Kemp 』

Sweet Tooth

The Kemps have always struck you as a little weird, but as their babysitter, you figured they didn’t pay you enough to make that your business.

『Damon Salvatore 』

Like Mother, Like Daughter

You never imagined that you would find solace in the bloodstained hands of a murderer.

Haunted

If you’d known that your ex-boyfriend was a vampire, you would’ve gotten a stake instead of a restraining order.

『Roman Godfrey』

Bite Marks & Bruises

Roman Godfrey is spoiled and arrogant and rude…and he gets whatever he wants.

『Stephen Bonnet 』

Bejeweled

Your journey to America is turned on its head when the captain of the ship wants both your mistress’ jewels…and her handmaiden, snatching both in a single night.

『Dune 』

There Will Be Blood

Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart’s desire for his celebration day.

『Chris Evans 』

None of Your Concern

➥ Where you and Chris aren’t on the same page

➥ Where tensions increase

『Geralt of Rivia 』

Late Bloomer

➥ Character POV

『Michael Gray 』

Gangsta’s Paradise

➥ Character POV

➥ Where Michael has a close call

#the boys #knives out #chris evans #fresh 2022 #tcaos #the witcher #peaky blinders #the invitation 2022 #stranger things #enola holmes #hotd

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mac-lilly · 18 days

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"Can't I come with you?" || "You know you can't"

platonic pairing of choice?

Thank you. Your prompt gave me the idea to write a companion piece to Just one more night. Now it's Reggie's time to shine.

Read full version on AO3

Tomorrow

Reggie is running late. And that’s bad. So he hurries, scuttling around his room, gathering his belongings, and stuffing them into a black backpack. Yet, despite his hurry, Reggie pauses by his mirror. He can’t help it. He has to admire his perfectly coiffed hair. Yup. He has absolutely nailed his look today.

Reggie puts on a charming smile, winking suggestively at his own reflection. “Ladies!”

“Are you flirting with yourself?”

Reggie shrieks and leaps into the air, twisting his body like a cat to get a look at the intruder. His little brother is standing in the doorway.

“Stevie,” Reggie gasps. “Why didn’t you knock?”

With his round face and sandy hair, Steve Peters takes more after their mother. However, they share the same pale eyes, and like his brother, freckles are splattered across Stevie’s nose and cheeks.

“I did,” Stevie says, shrugging nonchalantly before, all of a sudden, he averts his eyes. Reggie thinks that’s odd. Stevie isn’t a bubbly kind of person. He’s never been. But the way he’s shifting his weight from one foot to another, arms behind his back, haunted eyes roaming around the room … He looks uncomfortable in his own home.

Then Reggie hears it. Hears them. Their parents’ raised voices are booming through the house. Reggie flinches. He doesn’t need to ask how long this has been going on. He can guess. From the number of insults they’re hurling at each other, they’ve been fighting for at least half an hour. In his rush to hunt down his stuff for their gig, he had been too preoccupied to notice them.

Plastering on a big, bright smile, he spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture.

“Be my guest.”

Stevie huffs and rolls his eyes. But he accepts the invitation anyway. The door falls shut behind him, muffling their parents’ voices. He’s halfway into the room when he spots Reggie’s half-packed rucksack and his bass sitting in its case. He stops dead in his tracks.

“Where’re you going?” he asks. He blinks slowly while he pieces the bigger picture together. At once, his entire face lights up. “Are you having a show?”

Reggie can’t help it. A big grin stretches his face, and he puffs out his chest.

“Yep.”

In one swift movement, Reggie jumps on his desk chair. For a moment, he’s swaying, arms flailing as he struggles to regain his balance on the swiveling chair. Stevie snorts. He isn’t a cheerful soul. But even he can’t conceal his excitement. He’s looking up at his brother, eyes alight with curiosity.

Reggie’s heart swells with pride. He isn’t going to disappoint him.

Reggie isn’t good at stuff – he knows that. He likes school. But his grades suck. He also likes his job at Trader Joe’s. He likes wheeling the cart around. It’s fun. But yesterday, he got a bit too excited, crashing half a dozen carts into a lamp post. Again. So, yeah, he isn’t good at that either.

The one thing he is really good at is playing his bass. Damn good. He knows that. And so does his little brother.

So, that’s what Reggie does.

He plays Now or Never on an air bass. As he does, he closes his eyes, imagining a huge crowd in front of him. He imagines a vast sea of people, growing ecstatic as they play their anthem. They scream. They shout. Their arms are in the air, swaying along to the beat. The atmosphere is electric. Behind him, Alex is wailing on his drums. To his left, Bobby focuses on his guitar, supporting Luke as best as he can. Luke, who is stage and center, working his magic. His music. The energy that’s … that’s just contagious. You can’t escape Luke’s spell. Not that Reggie wants to.

Music has always helped him. It has always been there. Music is a source of comfort as well as a way to block out his parents’ endless fights. Reggie can’t imagine a life without it.

He’s hitting the final notes, and the melody slowly rings out. There’s a moment of silence. Then, the crowd starts chanting their names, frantic. Reggie feels like he’s floating. It’s the best feeling ever.

And then he opens his eyes again, and the clamoring fans evaporate – except for one. Stevie is still

there. And he’s beaming up at him, and Reggie has to correct himself. This is the best feeling ever.

He mirrors his brother’s grin – his smile so wide, his cheeks hurt.

Aside from playing the bass, there’s one more thing that Reggie’s really good at. Being an older brother. Or, well, he’s trying, at least. Dad’s often away for work – he’s attending business meetings all around the globe. With his dad frequently absent, his mom has devoted herself to philanthropy. She’s hosting all sorts of charity events. So, with both parents being immersed in their projects, it’s mostly been Reggie who’s been left looking out for Stevie. It’s Reggie who takes his brother on trips to the zoo or the amusement park. He’s the one who helps Stevie pick a birthday gift for a friend when he’s invited to a party. And so far, he’s never missed one of Stevie’s Little League Baseball games.

And Reggie usually doesn’t mind doing it. It loves his brother. (Sometimes, though, he wishes their parents would see them. Both of them.)

Anyway … music, his friends, and his baby brother – these are the things Reggie truly loves. (And puppies, of course. And hamsters. And pizza.)

Then, his gaze falls on his digital alarm clock. His smile falters; his eyes bug comically. It’s 6:48 pm. The bus leaves at 7.

“Oh, shoot! I’m late.” He’s totally lost track of time. He jumps off the chair and scrambles to grab his bag and bass. As he shoulders his bass, he catches a glimpse of Stevie. His shoulders are slumped, and his head is hanging low. He’s fidgeting with the hem of his Alvin and the Chipmunks t-shirt, twisting the material between his fingers. Reggie has a terrible sinking feeling.

“Can’t I … Can’t I come with you?”

Stevie’s voice is small.

Reggie’s heart plunges. “You know you can’t.”

Stevie sniffles, and he’s biting his lip – probably to stop the tears from flowing down his face. Reggie’s heart breaks. He hates it.

He really does. He doesn’t want to leave Stevie behind. He doesn’t deserve to be stuck in a place like this – with parents who are more invested in their own drama than their kids. (They haven’t cooled off yet. Reggie can still hear them hurling accusations at each other.)

But Reggie has a gig. A mega important, life-changing gig. And as much as he loves his brother, he can’t take him along. If it wasn’t for their fake IDs, they wouldn’t be allowed to enter – let alone play – the venue. Bringing an elementary schooler along for the ride? Yeah, they’d kick them out immediately. And Reggie can’t risk that. He can’t do that to the band. The band is his second family.

Still, seeing his brother dejected like this … Reggie can’t stand it. Guilt churned inside him.

“Hey, tell you what,” Reggie says, big, goofy smile back in place. “Tomorrow, we do whatever you want.”

Stevie perks up. He wrinkles his freckled nose. “Anything?”

“Sure. We can go to the arcade. Oh, or the zoo. Or the movies!” Honestly, Reggie doesn’t mind. He likes the arcade. And the zoo. And the movies. They made a sequel to Free Willy. Reggie can’t wait to watch it.

Stevie hums, deliberating his options. “Can you …” He hesitates. He’s biting his lip, unsure. “Can you show me how to play?” He points at the bass strapped to Reggie’s shoulder.

Reggie almost topples over. “You want to learn how to play bass?”

Stevie shrugs. He’s not meeting Reggie’s eye when he says, “It looks kinda cool.”

Scratch his earlier emotional high. Right now, Reggie is feeling like he’s soaring among the stars.

“It is very cool,” Reggie says, nodding meaningfully. And suddenly, he’s got a new idea. He rips his bag open and rummages through it. Eventually, he produces a CD case and a white t-shirt from its depths. He shows Stevie the CD.

“That’s our demo,” Reggie explains. Then he unfolds the t-shirt so Stevie can see its front. The Sunset Curve logo is printed across the chest. Stevie’s eyes bug.

“Rad, isn’t it? And you know what? You are the very first person to own one. Grabbed them this morning.”

He hands both items to his brother. Then he snatches the Diskman his dad got him from his last business trip to Japan from the bedside table. He puts it, along with a pair of headphones, on top of the small stack in his brother’s arms.

“So how about you put it on and listen to the best band in the universe for a while. And tomorrow, I’ll give you your first bass lesson.”

“Promise?” asks Stevie, cradling his new possessions like a precious treasure. His eyes are wide and pleading and full of hope.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Reggie vows.

When he arrives downtown, he’s still late. But thankfully not too late. After a rainy summer day, Sunset Boulevard is now packed with people enjoying a late evening stroll. Reggie has to weave his way through the milling crowd to make it to the venue in time. Eventually, the familiar sign comes into view, and he slows down. The neon lights of The Orpheum are like a beacon. Its electric buzz fills the air, and Reggie skids to a halt right under the neon-blue sign. He’s out of breath. Leaning over onto his knees, he needs a moment to catch his breath. As he waits for his racing heart to slow down, he notices the crowd for the very first time. A bunch of people have gathered in front of the entrance, waiting for the doors that won’t open for another hour or two.

His heart leaps with joy. They have fans. Real fans! Fans who are willing to wait for hours to see them. Wow! Suddenly, he’s feeling dizzy. His head’s spinning, and he takes a staggering step back to take in the whole picture. There’s a dozen of them – mostly girls, as he does not fail to notice – and–

A figure, half obscured by shadows, is lurking in a dark alleyway, hands shoved into the pockets of his oversized flannel.

Reggie blinks hard.

“Luke?”

Luke jumps and whirls around. In the diffuse streetlight, his face looks gaunt, and his eyes are puffy.

“Bro, you’re alright?”

Luke sniffles. “Yeah.” His voice is raw, and he hastily wipes his face with the sleeve of his flannel.

Listen, Reggie might be slow on the uptake at times. But he can read his friends like an open book. He knows what’s going on. Unfortunately, it’s a delicate subject, and like always, Luke is being stubbornly evasive about it. He’ll never admit it. Instead, his friend tilts his head back, chin pointing at something above the entrance.

Reggie cranes his neck. He spies the marquee. His jaw drops.

He’s been so distracted by the fans – the prospect of having fans – he hasn’t paid the marquee any attention. Now he does.

SUNSET CURVE SHOWCASE – SOLD OUT

“That’s us!” Reggie laughs in disbelief. He’s feeling exhilarated. Delirious, even. They did it. They fucking did it!

“It is,” Luke confirms, a big grin stretching his face. His eyes are still glassy. “And tomorrow, we’ll be legends.”

Reggie pumps a fist into the air, then slings an arm around Luke’s shoulder, drawing him in. Luke staggers and bumps into his side, and they both laugh. A moment later, Luke’s arm is wrapped around him, pulling him into a half hug.

Together, they stumble towards the back doors of The Orpheum. Towards their future.

Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of their lives.

And he can’t wait to tell Stevie about it.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #reggie peters #my writing #my fics #@ the others who sent prompts - no worries I haven't forgotten about you guys

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bluboothalassophile · 10 months

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I have a question about the batch of Jayrea short stories, you wrote. Within them you basically have Raven and Jason living in an apartment. Now I’ve been in quite a few apartments and I know that depending upon certain factors. Your neighbours can hear you. So it kinda makes me giggle just imagining a neighbour minding there own business and than all of a sudden hearing “JASON PETER TODD!!!”. The ceiling is shaking and your shadows in your apartment is acting weird. Your stuff is also prone to either shaking or moving depending upon the woman’s temper upstairs.

Like how have we not gotten information on the neighbours? Are they regular people or those in the Superhero world? Maybe even a villain like… Captain Cold rents the apartment because he doesn’t want to deal with Flash all the time or it could be Grifter. How do they perceive the other apartment? Do they think it’s haunted or do the neighbours just roll there eyes and go “Looks like Jason got into a fight with his girlfriend again.”?🧐🤣😋

I am in no way trying to force this issue. I just sorta wanted to ask. Apologies if it’s too much.😅

Hello,

So it's surprising how few heroes and villains live in NYC but I hope you enjoy! =)

Just Pretend to be Normal!

Living in a J. Peter’s Building came with a certain level of expectation and requirements. There’d be no fuckery, no villainry, heroing, drugs, or criminal activity. Which was great, J. Peters was famed for Blue Discounts, First Responder Discounts, as well as Recovering Housing; that recovering housing was for paroled and released criminals barring certain crimes. For the most part, J. Peters was famed for fresh starts, because he would employ many criminals looking for honest second chances, as well as safe homes for all his tenants. Fucking that up was not permitted, the last supervillain to try to turn his apartment in a J. Peters building was evicted so fast, and visited by the Red Hood, the Riddler was still recovering from whiplash.

That said, Slade liked living in his apartment, 3C, which was directly under J. Peters apartment which housed J. Peters and his girlfriend, Rachel Roth. Slade wasn’t fooled by the personas, he was well aware of who J. Peters was, as well as Rachel Roth, but life as a civilian operated smoothly if there was a bit of separation between the two and he never acknowledged what he knew for fact.

Jason Todd, a.k.a. the Red Hood, was in a serious, committed relationship with Raven from the Titans, and they were living a quiet, nonintrusive life, for the most part. That said, Slade was also aware that he only had this apartment so long as Jason looked the other way and left the unspoken rules of decorum about the heroes-villain world away.

That said, Slade also had to look the other way to the oddities of his upstairs neighbors; he was not fucking with an interdimensional demoness, he had learned his fucking lesson!

Today was no different as his daughter was making a rare visit with him, he and Rose were still on uneasy terms, but she was making an effort, so he was trying too. Today they had had a father-daughter outing, and now she was staying the night, he would be taking the couch. He had waved at Rachel in the lobby of their building when she was getting her mail and he was heading out, he was aware that Jason was out wreaking havoc in Gotham.

The night, for the most part was going smoothly, and now Slade was lounging on his couch, reading quietly, Rose had passed out in his room a while ago. He was squinting at the page; he absolutely refused to get reading glasses, he wasn’t fucking old. There was a loud crash, and he raised his brow as he looked over to his sink where the cutlery was rattling.

“Azar Damnit JASON!” Raven shouted, and he looked at his ceiling.

“It’s not that bad!”

“You’re bleeding all over my freshly mopped floor!”

“It’s just a minor flesh wound.”

“You’ve knicked a major artery, you ass!”

“I am feeling lightheaded, little bird, yell at me after I die again.”

“You’re not dying unless I kill you!”

“Now that’d be a hell of a way to go!”

“Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“I’m a street rat!”

“I’m about to have a dead rat for a boyfriend, who the hell were you fighting!?”

“Oh, you know, Dick, Penguin, regular goons…”

“Dick did this!”

“Yes.”

“Imma going to go kill him!”

Salde winced as the shadows flickered in his apartment and then everything was normal again. He shrugged as he went back to reading his book. As he said, so long as he never acknowledged who his neighbors were, they could all pretend to be civilians and not heroes and supervillains.

#bluboothalassophile #jason todd #raven #raven roth #jayrae #redrae #raex #calm in the storm #slade wilson

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kairiscorner · 8 months

Note

HII I loved what you did for my request for noir :DDD Now... I got an idea to make it even more painful. Imagine he was supposed to give them the dress they wanted for a really long time? Like he sees it and he just breaks down hugging it (basically its sorta like the baby shoes never worn thing)

anon can we be best friends (◕ᴗ◕✿) you seem to be well versed in wrenching hearts, i love you platonically for that (☆▽☆) anyway, hope you like this :DD

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

content warnings! mentions of stabbing and blood under the cut, please don't read further ahead if you are uncomfortable with these topics ^^

he thought he would never be able to walk up to that same pavement to your house again. he never thought he'd come home to your house only with something, someone, being missing from it all. you.

he was never one to scorn the rain, not until the mere sound of it pittering and pattering against your lifeless, bloodied corpse reminded him he was too late. you didn't even recognize him in your final moments. the worst part of it all... was he was looking for not just that crook, not just that monster who stole your life over something so trivial like money, but he was looking for you. he was searching for you to apologize.

he wanted to make amends and have you embrace him once again.

but like all things, that thought alone was too good to be true.

he didn't know he was at your doorstep, clutching with him the gift he hid in his gigantic coat pocket. you sewed that pocket on for him, actually--he thought it was hilarious that you made such a big pocket for the inside of his coat, but now, he feels like that was the universe foreshadowing to him that the only person that'd hold on to the one thing that he wanted to gift you all this time, even before you both blew up at each other and... had all of that happen... would still be him. it would never be you, it would never be the person he loves.

he pulled out the box from his coat pocket, the box was all white, wrapped in a nice, red ribbon. he wanted to throw the box to the ground, but he also wanted to hold it close to his chest. the dilemma he faced was the silent screaming and howling of your voice, haunting him as he opened the box and let it fall to the ground, pulling out what was inside it. a lovely dress in your favorite color, a simple one that didn't look like it costed much, but... it had your favorite color, it had your favorite flowers on it, and was just the right size for you.

that dress was you; it had all of you poured into it.

and in the rain, as peter stood at your front door, did peter feel like he was stabbed in your place. the raindrops on his face and the tears rolling down his cheeks were indistinguishable. he fell to his knees, clutching the dress, and as his tears flowed... he remembered your voice.

you told him not to cry for a stranger.

well he wept loudly into the night for his lover, who never knew he was there, never knew... he wanted to say sorry all this time and gift you.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @thee-fantastic-mrfox @fiannee @arachnoia @ophanimgold @fictarian @yuridopted0

#spider noir #spider noir x reader #spider noir x you #spider noir x y/n #spider noir angst #atsv #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv angst #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse angst #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

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ouat-in-spare-oom-of-rivendell · 10 months

Text

Harry Potter Masterlist

Draco Malfoy

No Good Deed one shot

Summary: Inspired by the song "No Good Deed" from the musical Wicked.

George Weasley

George messing up a prank because he thinks you like Fred imagine

Sirius Black

Sirius finds out his and your son is not in fact a death eater, but rather is actually a spy for the Order drabble

Special: Remus Lupin x Muggleborn!Werewolf!OC, Sirius Black x Malfoy Sister!OC

Where Secrets Abound series

Summary: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew are instant friends when they meet on the train to Hogwarts. One is the leader, one is a follower, one is out to spite his family, and one carries a terrible secret. What will happen when they encounter Lily Evans and her friends? James immediately hates Severus Snape, but Sirius isn’t sure what to think about Lucius Malfoy’s younger sister, Lyra - the Pureblood girl who would rather die than be put in Slytherin House. Could she be a friend or will she turn out just like her brother? Remus finds an unlikely companion in Lovetta Rawly, a Muggleborn witch who has the carries the same burden as he, but how long can they hide their condition from their friends?As these kids journey through their years at Hogwarts, loyalties are tested, and secrets are revealed. Will their friendship be enough to see them through?

Series Warnings: Angst, Pureblood Ideologies, Abusive Parents, Arranged Marriages, Major Character Death, Implied/Mentioned Torture

Read on Ao3

Read on Quotev

Complete

Sequel: Time Will Tell series

Summary: Continuing the events of Where Secrets Abound, the children of the Marauders navigate the return of the Dark Lord and the Second Wizarding War. The secrets of the past come back to haunt some, while others are relieved by the truth. Ophelia Lupin and Elara Black grew up as sisters, but what happens when the sorting splits them apart?

Everyone knows Harry Potter’s name, but almost no one knows about his twin sister, Jessa. Will she drown in anonymity?

Only one man holds answers to the whereabouts of Lyra’s son - he’s the only one who knows she even had a son, but will he ever reveal that secret?

Series Warnings: Angst, Pureblood Ideologies, Major Character Death, Implied/Mentioned Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Slight Divergence from Canon Events

Read on Ao3

Read on Quotev

Incomplete

#harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fic #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #sirius black x oc #remus lupin x oc #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine

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whyareyouhere66 · 2 years

Text

Imagine/Fic Links

So I already made a list of all the fandoms/characters i’m gonna write for, but I don’t actually have anywhere with all the fic links,

So I’m putting them here! Just to make it more organized, y’know?

no idea how often I’ll update it, so if there are some links missing then that’s why

ALSO- make sure to scroll because it is gonna grow a lot and you might miss something you’d like so just bare with me as you scroll through this-

These are the characters/fandoms I write for - link

The Outsiders-

Late Night [Angst, Sodapop and Steve friendship]

Mini Series - Grief: [CW: mentions of major character death (Johnny and Dally), no reader, no ships, implied violence/drinking]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This [Ponyboy Curtis]

Wish You Were Here. [Two-Bit Matthews]

To Where You Are [Sodapop Curtis]

Fire and Rain. [Darrel Curtis]

Let It Be. [Dallas Winston & Johnny Cade]

[Steve Randle in progress]

—

How They’d React to Your Friend Flirting With Them [HC] [GN Reader]

Sodapop Curtis -

Started With a Ring [Male Reader]

Vandalize [Fem or GN Reader]

Can’t Help Falling In Love [Male Reader]

Can’t Help Falling In Love - Part 2. [Male Reader]

Showering With Sodapop [HC] [GN Reader- NOT SMUT]

I love you. [Male Reader]

Snowed In. [GN Reader/ Reader using Fae/Faer/Faers pronouns]

Steve Randle

Wrong Direction [Fem Reader]

Dallas Winston

The One That Got Away [Fem Reader]

Anxious Reader HC. [Fem Reader]

Showering with Dallas [HC] [GN Reader - Not smut]

Darry Curtis

Coping Mechanism. [GN Reader]

Physical Affection [HC]. [GN Reader]

Let It Snow [GN Reader]

Showering with Darry [HC] [GN Reader- Not smut]

Ponyboy Curtis

Secret. [Fem Reader]

random Tim and Sylvia thing from when they were kids

The Mighty Ducks-

The Ducks-

The Ducks in a Haunted House [HC] [No reader, just an HC]

TV. [GN Reader, no romantic stuff but lots on Adam]

Charlie Conway-

Exile - Part 1 [GN Reader]

Exile - Part 2 [GN Reader]

Kenny Wu -

Homework and Cuddles [GN reader]

Dean Portman-

Reunion [Fem Reader]

Reminder: there is much more to come! Y’all should see my drafts-

MHA -

Lies [Male Reader]

Lies pt 2. [Male Reader]

Too Late [GN Reader] tw! for blood/implied death

Tokoyami-

Nail Polish. [GN Reader]

Mezo Shoji

Dating HCs. [GN Reader]

Pulled Away. [Male Reader]

Neito Monoma

Just Can’t Help Myself. [Fem Reader]

Haikyuu-

Haikyuu Characters as Quotes From my Life [HC]

Total Drama Island -

Duncan-

Hanahaki Disease Part 1 [Male Reader]

Hanahaki Disease Part 2 [Male Reader] WARNING: hanahaki disease (duh)

Julie and the Phantoms -

Reggie Peters-

See You Again. [GN Reader]

The Sandlot -

Benny Rodriguez

Do It Again. [Male Reader]

Visitor. [GN Reader]

Rumors. [GN Reader]

Touch. [Male Reader]

Call Me A Snitch. [GN Reader]

Newsies -

Spot Conlon-

Idk U Yet [Prologue/Part1]. [GN Reader]

Romantic/Platonic HCs. [GN Reader]

Chubby Reader HCs. [GN Reader]. (I recommend combining this one with the other HCs just for one big thing of Spot HCs)

Jack Kelly-

Love at your Convenience. [GN Reader]

Mike Faist (actor)

Pleasant Distraction. [Fem Reader]

Found Family. [FTM Reader]

His Smile. [Fem Reader]

Racetrack Higgins

Romantic/Platonic HCs. [GN Reader]

Kid Blink

How you met/Asking you out HCs. [GN Reader]

Finch

Rooftop. [GN Reader]

Mush

Thank You. [Fem Reader]

IT 2017

Henry Bowers-

Untitled Lol. [Male Reader]

Harry Potter Fandom

Owe It All To You. [GN Reader x !Father Figure! Remus Lupin]

Draco Malfoy -

Perhaps, Perhaps. [Male Reader]

Marvel

Look What You Made Me Do [Male Stark !Vigilante! Reader]

[Almost] a Loss. [Dad! Loki x !Son!Teen!Reader]

DNA [Dad! Loki x !Son!Villain(?) Reader]

Outerbanks

JJ Maybank -

You Are Home [Male Reader]

Kook Prince [Male Reader]

Smoked. [Male Reader]

Lonesome [Male Reader]

Safe With Me [Male Reader]

So Say It [Male Reader] Bonus part

His Sweet, Sweet Words. [Male Reader]

Awake With You. [Male Reader]

Kiss It Better [Male Reader]

I’ll try to update this as much as I can, and again I promise there is more to come! My drafts are full rn man soooo-

Feel free to send in a request!!

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camcorderrevival · 2 years

Text

AMY POND + MYTHOLOGICAL/LITERARY FIGURES

[ EVE: Apple (symbol), Rubens || PANDORA: Pandora - study and analysis, Alexandre Cabanel, Hesiod (trans. Evelyn-White) || CASSANDRA: Smyrnaeus’ The Fall of Troy, Philostratus the Elder, Imagines, Book 2.10, Aeschylus’ Agamemnon, Cassandra Float Can (video), || CATHERINE EARNSHAW: Wuthering Heights, || WENDY DARLING: Peter and Wendy, J.M. Barrie, Wendy’s Story, Jessica Hedrick || ELEANOR VANCE: Absolute Reality and the Role of the Ineffable, The Haunting of Hill House, Spectrality and Trauma ]

#long long post <3 #anyways the cassandra ones in particular drive me mad - that's literally her #Doctor Who #Amy Pond #Amy Pond Unrelated Media Universe #web weaving #parallels #11th Doctor

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here-for-a-good-time-hopefully · 1 year

Text

Can you imagine remus’ reaction to the parties the wizarding world threw after the deaths of lily and James

How haunted he felt sitting inside his house knowing at last the dark lord is dead but it came at the cost of his friends lives

Him thinking abt how James Lily and Peter will never live to see the end of this war and the start of the new and better world

How a man that meant the world to him became a traitor and murderer for a reason he would never understand

Imagine Remus living through all this grief only to hear the sound of celebration wizards around the country cheering for joy happy they can finally go back to the lives they had led the lives that Remus’ friends will never lead again

How all this celebrating comes at the cost of three young dead wizards and the orphaning of an infant barely a year old

#remus lupin #marauders #harry potter #marauders era #hp marauders #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #remus and peter #remus and james #remus and lily #wolfstar #remus and sirius #first wizarding war #remus lupin headcanon #marauders headcanon #moonchaser

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nix-rose · 4 months

Text

I almost danced with joy when i saw this, its so cute!! thanks for the tag @once-upon-an-imagine!!!

To celebrate 2023 coming to an end, create a moodboard inspired by your favourite memories of the year and answer any (or all) of the questions below

1. Top 3 songs of 2023 2. Top 3 artists of 2023 3. Top 3 albums of 2023 4. Top 3 movies of 2023 5. Top 3 tv shows of 2023 6. Top 3 books of 2023 7. Top 3 youtubers of 2023 8. Top 3 podcasts of 2023 9. Top 3 videogames of 2023 10. Top 3 celebrity crushes of 2023 11. Top 3 fictional crushes of 2023 12. Top 3 places you visited in 2023 13. Top 3 new things you tried in 2023 14. Top 3 things you were grateful for in 2023 15. Top 3 things you are looking forward to in 2024

top 3 songs would be: Sex on Fire - kings of leon, ...ready for it? - Taylor Swift, and I think he knows - also Taylor Swift

top 3 artists were: Taylor Swift, Simon Franglen(the avatar 2 soundtrack gets my writing brain turned on-) and Hozier

top 3 albums might be: Speak Now, Reputation, and Unreal Earth

top 3 movies are: Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3, Barbie, and Spider-man Across the Spiderverse

top 3 tv shows would be: Supernatural, Gilmore Girls, and Stranger Things

top 3 books (this is gonna be hard cuz i didnt read much other than fanfics so heres my fav fics) : Prove me Wrong (Billy Hargrove x oc) by @hogwartsandhawkins, Twenty four hours (Eddie Munson x reader) by @ghost-proofbaby and last and definitely not least, She Drives Me Crazy (Steve Harrington x reader) by @upsidedownwithsteve

top youtubers: Brett Cooper, Jordan Howlett and Kall-me-Kris

top podcasts is only one and its called Typology (It's about the enneagram types.)

top video games: (My little cousins got me hooked on this one) Mech Arena and Unravel

top 3 celeb crushes: Jensen Ackles, Ryan Reynolds, Timothy Chalmette.

top 3 fictional crushes: Peter Quill, Dean Winchester, and Billy Hargrove

top 3 places i visited: Sandpoint - Idaho, Central California, Key West - Florida

top 3 new things i tried: Performed my first paid gig, went to a haunted house, dyed my hair purple

top 3 things im grateful for in 2023: My family and friends, my music, my seemingly endless void of opportunities.

top 3 things im looking forward to in 2024 are: Playing music in Nashville, vacationing with my childhood friend for a week, Reputation TV(hopefully)

no pressure tags: @steph-speaks @hogwartsandhawkins @ghost-proofbaby @avgvstlover @theemporium @coffeeandbatboys @xxskycrystalxx @teenwolfmarvel-obsessor and anyone else who would like to join!!

#tag game #2023 recap #moodboard #fictional characters for the win #love my boys #spn #spnfandom #gotg fandom #marvel

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theburiedlad · 1 year

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Alright so! I just watched the Kickstarter Launch Livestream VOD and here all literally all the notes I have on it (this is a collection of funny quotes, thoughts I had, and information I thought was worth noting):

The title of TMA 2 is officially The Magnus Protocol

Not a minute after they announced this, someone said "Scrotocol" and as a result "Magnus Scrotocol" became a running joke throughout the stream

Protagonists in TMP work for the British Civil Service as Civil Servants

There might be more world building? Maybe we'll learn how Avatarship works?

Alex described writing the spin off as being a DM in a D&D campaign without the major lore dump at the beginning of the game

Returning characters - possibly Peter Lukas?

"Agency-related occurrences"? What does this mean Jonathan???

Sam the spooky viola man

Jonathan doesn't imagine faces to the characters until they have a voice actor, and then he imagines them as the VA

Alex on the other hand celebrity-casts characters in the early stages of projects but the characters tend to devolve into just faceless mannequins of accessories and mannerisms

Alex says the Boneturner (Jared Hopsworth) is the hottest character in TMA.

"I want to climb him like a mountain. A bony, bony mountain." "Put that in a mankini." -Both lovely quotes from Alex kdjdjejs

Helen thinks Elias is the hottest character, which Alex vehemently disagreed with ("Can [Elias] crush a car with his thighs??")

There isn't going to be just one MC in TMP, but there will be 2 protagonists

The merchandise they've released is purposefully horrendous /pos

Helen says she thinks Hozier (like the singer) is an Avatar of the Buried

If the Kickstarter goes way past its goal, Jon and Alex will start a ghosthunting show

Alasdair went off on his theory/headcanon as to what actually happened to Peter Lukas after the Archivist "killed" him

He says that after the Archivist launched him into the sun, he realized halfway up that it's really hard to kill him and just teleported to one of his homes, in Loch Ness or someplace near there. After getting out of that, he decided to Ultimate Divorce Jonah and got a gigantic umbrella with a huge middle finger on the top so Jonah would see it if he tried to look at Peter.

"Martin, the sky is looking back and it looks really pissed and I don't know why!" -Alex's approximation as to Jon's reaction to Jonah's reaction to this

"This will blow over eventually, that asshole [Jonah] will overextend himself cuz he already fucking has." -Peter's thoughts during the Eyepocalypse

Peter has woken up to the words "U up?" written in the sky to him

"Booty call from Jonah Magnus." -Helen

"[Peter's] my terrible, terrible Lonely bastard man." -Alasdair

The DaVinci Code is canonically in Leitner's Library (not really though)

House of Leaves, Haunting of Hill House, Lanark: A Life in Four Books, and White is For Witching are all in the Library as well

Alex thinks Leitner had a soft spot for Terry Pratchett novels and had a lot of them in his personal library

Alex thinks that with powers, Writer!Jon would win in a fight against Archivist!Jon, but without powers "Early Archivist is very soft, he would keep saying 'It's not worth it' whilst losing.", but later season Archivist is "very scrappy" and would fair a lot better against Writer!Jon

Alasdair thinks that the real winner in a fight between those two would actually be Narrator!Jon from Slay the Princess

There were headcanons for the Admiral!

Alasdair and Helen think he is a very large ginger car

Alex thinks that the Admiral is the most vile-looking cat imaginable purely because he thinks it makes the scenes with people talking to him even funnier

Stretch goals for the Kickstarter:

Spin-off in-universe content

Alex says it would "break the series" if he dropped that content now (lots of lore possibly?)

Certain episodes will be double the length of normal episodes

Alex says he isn't opposed to "special" (holiday) episodes

Alasdair suggested a LonelyEyes spin-off series and Alex is actually considering it???

"Drip feed" of content before the actual series drops

Alex said he has no intentions of revealing what the K in "Martin K Blackwood" stands for

Alasdair said he thinks it's Knievel, someone in the stream said "Martin Kayak Blackwood", and someone in chat said it's Krotocol

Alex said Leitner used a magic book that consumes fecal matter as a toilet while he was in the tunnels, while Alasdair suggested he used one of the rivers he imagines runs through the tunnels as a bathroom

Jon and Alex are looking at both "broadening the number of format options" and guest writers for the show

Subtitle ideas for TMP

Helen suggested "The Magnus Protocol: Snogs Galore"

Alasdair had a list: Halbert's(?) Legacy; Requisition This, Health and Safety Can't Save You Now, and There Are No Sick Days In Hell

Alex couldn't give an opinion because the subtitles (taglines) could majorly spoil stuff and taglines tend to be one of the last things thought of in these sorts of projects

Alex says the "stakes" are "not equivalent" to those in TMA but that they wouldn't even try to top the stakes from TMA in TMP anyways

"It would be a mistake to equate stakes to material, physical threats"

And now here's the gaming portion for the last like hour of the Livestream so this is all mainly stuff I thought was funny:

"Pegging? In this economy?"

Alex asked who "Zen-die-a" was

Helen booed at the JKR question because she has taste and common sense 🥰

"Do you spell wildebeests with 2 E's? I thought it was 'wild beasts'!" -Alex (but mood honestly)

"What is tuatara?!" -Helen; "It's what Twitter used to be called." -Martyn

"The Magnus Protocol: Let's All Kill Alex!"

"No coordination, only skewer"

Someone called the uvula a mouth swing

Hannah's luck is unparalleled apparently

Helen is a Spamton fan!

(After learning that more dice to a person means there's a greater chance of them losing) "Oh, I was trying to help!" -Alex

(See also: Martin in just about every season kfjdjdjs)

Alex squirming in glee after screwing Hannah over made me laugh

"Cockney misogyny birds"

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #alexander j newall #tma livestream #magnus archives livestream #the magnus protocol #the magnus scrotocol #tma spoilers #magnus archives spoilers

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letsgoplayhighfive · 1 year

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Supernova - A Gandrew One-Shot

Garrett loves his new apartment for a multitude of reasons.

Most of those reasons, he knows, naturally come down to Andrew. As most things do.

(A silly little Gandrew story, written in three long, late sessions. Cross-posted on Ao3, which you can find here. A huge thank you to @lmnsdtexe, who inspired, proof-read, edited, and kept me on track to actually finish this fic. I genuinely couldn't have done it without them.)

Garrett loves his new apartment for a multitude of reasons.

Really, he does- the comments he’d off-handedly thrown towards the camera about it being a mistake or a bad idea were just bluffs to get a few laughs. In reality, he thinks taking the place for his own was probably the best thing he’d managed to do in years. No joke.

It’s old, the floors creak, the doors are thin and the walls even thinner, and of course it’s also extravagantly haunted, but all of those things just add the exact kind of character Garrett loves. He can’t imagine himself anywhere else in Spokane anymore. His uncle's house is a great place to crash- don’t get him wrong -but the feeling in this charming little building is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, and likely something he won’t be able to recreate anywhere else.

He’s also grateful to have the memories there, as few of them as there are, so cross-linked with Andrew. He doubts he’ll ever forget that road trip, all 20 hours of it, and while they’d both ended up delirious and exhausted deep in their bones, he looks back on it with a soft and warm fondness that is reserved for Andrew and Andrew alone. He elevates anything that Garrett is doing, even if it’s something as mundane as getting Starbucks, and everything always feels brighter when the two of them are together. So, naturally, he brings Andrew along to most places, and Andrew never seems to mind. Even if it is his terminally haunted home. Even if that home does scare the shit out of both of them on a regular basis. Things never feel quite as scary when Andrew is there, anyway, and Garrett only hopes he feels the same way about him.

Garrett is there to visit his niece for her birthday, still in awe at how fast time is passing and how old everyone is getting. Of course he’d sprung an invite on Andrew at the last minute and of course Andrew had also agreed at the last minute, so now they’re in his new living room, trying to ignore the strange little creaks and ticks coming from different angles around them.

The place has started to fill in with various Garrett-isms. The Xena poster from his 90’s room is up by the front door, a sword is mounted behind the TV, and Peter B. Parker has somehow found his way from Garrett’s truck up to the apartment windowsill. There’s a new spice rack in the kitchen, and he's picked out a set of vintage-looking barstools with Andrew from Wayfair that sit pulled up to the ledge separating the rooms. It’s slowly becoming a home around him, his home, and when Garrett thinks back to the first time they’d stepped inside together he can almost feel emotion tightening up his chest and clogging his throat.

Because yes, the place is his- It’s his name on the paperwork, now, after all -but it’s also so very much Andrew’s, too. Enough so that it holds the same (if not more) associative intensity as the Beehive. They’ve picked out almost every piece of furniture in it together, and Andrew is still regularly sending Garrett links to various pieces he thinks will be a good match. It’s domestic. It’s perfect. Garrett savours every second of it.

There’s a bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of him- which is less of a table and more of an antique-looking chest he’d thrifted and lugged in the back of his pickup from L.A. -and while it’s just a cheap-shit Merlot it’s still their favourite and they buy three bottles at a time to keep the stash going. Two pizza boxes rest on the floor by their feet, picked apart and empty, only still there because neither are bothered enough to actually throw them away tonight. Some things just wait until morning, and pizza boxes are usually one of those things.

They’d spent a good hour clicking through Netflix, then Prime, then Paramount, then HBO, and when they still hadn’t found something they felt like watching, Garrett had gotten up from the loveseat and found his speaker and suggested just putting some music on and going from there. Andrew had agreed, of course- and now he’s staring at his Spotify, scrolling through their playlist (collaborative, because they send each other so much music it starts to get confusing) with his brow furrowed just slightly and his free hand balancing the stem of his wine glass between his fingers. There’s a fireplace ambiance video on the TV, and the red-orange-yellow colours only serve to make Andrew look even better, adding more warmth to his skin and his hair and the flash of his smile.

Garrett takes a slow sip from his own glass, silently observing, face quirked up into a grin (and when is it not, when Andrew is concerned?). The ghosts and ghouls are mostly forgotten between them, especially with the bottle of wine half-drained, and a lot of it is just played off as the sounds the place just makes - as if it’s normal and expected and fine. And hey, he hasn’t been stabbed or shoved or possessed yet, so he figures it’s not too far from the truth. Whatever is in here, at least upstairs, seems like it doesn’t really mind either of them. It makes Garrett happier about the apartment, honestly, because there's a chance that ghosts get lonely and maybe them being there is helpful, not harmful, like he’d been scared it would be.

Andrew hums a little sound of confirmation, finally selecting a track, and the sounds of a Drake song start slowly rising from the portable speaker between them. They don’t have it too loud, at least trying to be respectful at the hour of 3:00 AM and not disturb the actual living and working people that call this place home, too.

“ This is what I’m talking about, baby, yeah!” Andrew says, half-sarcastically, as the bass to ‘Fire and Desire’ comes in, thrumming low atop the chest-table. He discards his phone on the little stretch of cushion between them, letting it slip carelessly from his fingers. His head bobs slightly to the beat as he takes his own sip of wine, almost drained.

Garrett watches the show from the other end of the loveseat, propping his tired and swimming head up with one hand, elbow pressed into the backrest, creasing into brown leather. He laughs, a little deliriously, more of a high-giggle than anything else. Andrew had just finished playfully shading him for the Mariah Carrey he played previously- though they’d still listened to the whole thing, and teasing aside, Garrett still doesn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed, like so many others have made him feel before. With Andrew it’s always just good and not much else.

Garrett tips his head back a little, looking at the speckled and slightly yellowed ceiling above them, wetting his mouth with the last sip of wine in his glass. He feels almost overwhelmed in this moment, in this slow and perfect little accumulation of good decisions, inside this unpoppable bubble with Andrew that they’ve built for themselves, one brick and stone and weird little stuffed animal at a time. The gratefulness presses against his chest, behind his ribs, and it feels ready to burst out of him. Garrett has a personal rule that he takes quite seriously- that if he has something nice to say it’s always better to say it than to refrain, so he does.

“Andrew, man- This is so cool. Sorry, like, the hardest and sappiest sidebar ever, but,” Garrett looks back down, reaching to set his empty glass aside with a gentle little clink, scanning his eyes around his living room that really feels more like their living room. “C’mon, this is just, y’know, only the most perfect thing ever.”

Andrew nods, tipping back the rest of his own drink, too, reaching across for the bottle to top them both up. Garrett watches as he takes extra care to make them both filled to the exact same line.

“I mean, besides the horrifying basement ghost, yeah- no, this place is really coming together, when are we starting our, uh… decorating business? Interior design, or whatever.” He says with a waggle of the fingers on his free hand, leaning back into the loveseat, still bobbing subtly to the beat.

Garrett waves his own hand dismissively, shaking his head. “Not just the stuff, Andrew, though thank you because I think you told me about, like, at least half of the things in here. You would definitely run the business, obviously- but I’m the boy with the truck so don’t think you can just buy me out! The Camry can’t hold furniture, you need me!”

Andrew laughs gently, and it’s as bright and bubbly and intoxicating as ever. Garrett joins him, even though he can feel his heart beat a bit harder in his chest, and he has to swallow the familiar ache in his throat. It’s nothing new to him, and he prides himself at how good he’s gotten at skimming over it and enjoying what he does have, rather than what he never will.

“No, I mean everything. This place is sick, yeah, straight fire even-” Garrett starts, a chuckle in his voice, and Andrew interrupts him with a single lifted finger.

“Lit, you could say.” Is all he adds, struggling to keep a straight face.

“ Lit, yeah, exactly bro,” Garrett responds, slipping easily into his straight-boy character, but only briefly- he really does intend on saying what he means, here, typical derailment be damned. “But also, y’know, look at us! We’ve done so much cool stuff together, and I’m just so damn grateful, man. Thank you, Andrew, for being here, even though most of the time it is absolute insanity.”

When he settles his eyes on Andrew, he’s looking back at him, now, too. His eyes are crinkled into a smile, and even though they’re red and tired, there’s so much warmth in them that Garrett almost feels taken aback by it. Sometimes he wonders how he even has enough space in his chest for how much he adores Andrew. The thought stings like lemon in a papercut, but he shakes it off.

Andrew shrugs a shoulder, always playing it casual. He huffs a little through his nose, his smile ticking upwards another notch, like he's just thought of something funny that for once Garrett isn’t in on.

“I mean, yeah, it’s been insane, but- but good insane, like- I don’t know, dude, without any of this,” He responds, gesturing to the room around them, finishing by shaking his hand at Garrett, right at him. “I think I’d be insane by now. Bad insane.”

Garrett hums in agreement, nods, tries not to look into things too deeply.

“Quarantine.” Garrett says simply, raising his eyebrows.

“ Quarantine, exactly, what would we have done? ” Andrew says back, and he’s laughing again, and Garrett wants to, too, but he can’t quite manage more than a little chuckle to cover up his silence. He wonders if Andrew will ever know what those months together really mean to him, and his brow furrows just a touch, inhibitions washy from the alcohol.

Garrett copes by lifting his wine again, taking a deep swallow, trying to spread out the warmth behind his eyes.

Andrew considers his own glass for a moment, swirling it gently, ever-careful not to spill a drop over the side onto Garrett’s (their) new furniture. He blinks down at it, and his smile slips, just a touch, matching Garrett’s own.

There’s something different in the air now, all of a sudden. Garrett isn’t quite sure what to make of it, of the expression on Andrew’s face, the way the silence is dragging on between them in such a strange, alien way, interrupted only by the sound of another Drake song rolling over on the speaker.

“You ever-” Andrew starts, and pauses. It’s jarring, really, and Garrett almost jumps at the sound of his voice. His smile is gone, now, and he’s second-guessing himself, Garrett knows. He can know a lot just by looking at him, usually, though there’s a sense of unease unfolding here that apparently he can’t quite pinpoint. “Do you ever have any regrets?”

Garrett tilts his head to the side, just slightly, a perfect picture of confusion, pausing with his wine raised halfway to his lips. He thought that he’d derailed the conversation earlier, but this is entering a territory he hadn’t expected. At all.

“I mean- yeah, regrets, who doesn’t?” He responds, watching as Andrew continues to avoid his eyes, feeling his stomach twist and turn and his heart kick like a drum. “Not about this, though, if that’s what you mean. Like, at all. ”

He adds the last part in a rush, more than anything not wanting Andrew to think he regrets a single facet of their friendship or this little apartment of his (theirs) and the world they’ve built, all the while trying to quell the sinking feeling in his soul when he realises maybe that's what Andrew means.

“Yeah, no- no, me neither, not like that.” Andrew quickly scrambles the words out, and it does help, just a little. It’s genuine, Garrett can feel that much. “Not like that but, there’s… It’s…”

Andrew huffs, frustrated, like he’s angry at himself for his inability to find the right words. Garrett doesn’t really know where this is going, as terrifying as it is, and it’s giving him whiplash from the 180 turn they’ve taken from their happy, private little moment on the couch. His hand feels cold and clammy on his glass and he puts it down lest he drop Merlot all over the carpet.

Garrett doesn’t understand the way Andrew is looking at him, doesn’t understand why it’s gotten so quiet, suddenly, and so suffocating in the silence, too, despite the music playing between them. He wants to say something, break the sudden unusual tenseness that’s entered the room, but it feels like the spit has dried up in his mouth and his tongue has turned to stone. The alcohol isn’t helping anymore- if anything, it’s made all of this feel even weirder, spacier, and all the more unreal.

“You good, Andrew?” He says, finally, finding what's left of his voice amid his scrambled thoughts, unable to stand the burning behind Andrew’s eyes anymore. It’s making him want to get up and run and never move from this spot again, all at once, and he’s never been so lost with Andrew before. It’s terrifying, carnally.

Andrew thinks, furrows his brow, scans across Garrett’s face like he’s trying to commit it to memory or find something there that Garrett himself doesn’t know about. Or doesn’t want him to see. Or doesn’t feel like Andrew wants to see.

Garrett watches as he averts his eyes again, almost relieved. Andrew tips back his drink, taking it all at once, grimacing because chugging wine is a vile, vile thing, and places the empty glass next to Garrett’s. He takes a moment, focused on the table, the little tarnished steel buckles and leather bands of the old chest, and Garrett can almost hear the gears turning in his head and see smoke coming from his ears.

Then, his eyes, again, on Garrett’s own- It could probably kill him, that look, if it hadn’t already. Maybe this is a dream, or an afterlife he isn’t aware he’s in, or some kind of personalised hell curated just for him.

“Yeah,” Andrew responds, nodding slowly, never breaking gaze. There’s something new to him now that wasn’t there before, some kind of resolve that Garret doesn’t recognize. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Andrew shuffles, a little, on the couch, turning more-so to face Garrett straight on. The cushions are relatively small, close together, making the most of the little space there is to go around.

“Garrett, I-,” Andrew pauses, looking to the side, and Garrett can see him biting the inside of his cheek. A nervous habit he's noticed a million times over. This is the point, usually, when Garrett would suggest they leave whatever stupid party or store they’re at, or ask what’s getting to him, or otherwise do anything in his power to make things just a little bit easier for Andrew. This time, though, it doesn’t feel like there's anything in the universe that can help. “I’m hoping this isn’t, like, completely out of pocket, here. But if it is just- it’s fine, totally, but just tell me, okay?”

Garrett blinks over at him, trying to gauge the expression on his face and, for once, failing. But whatever is happening here right now, well- it feels important. Almost as much so as it is scary. It goes without saying that Garrett trusts him, and that isn’t going to change now. Or ever.

“Yeah, no- dude, of course. I got you, Andrew. What’s up?” He asks, and it's like swallowing sand trying to keep his voice steady and not let his apprehension creep onto his face.

Andrew stares down at the space between them. Back to Garrett. Over at the fireplace on the TV, then Garrett again. His jaw is clenched, shoulders raised, and Garrett watches as he takes a deep, slow breath in and out through his nose. He forces the tension out of himself with it, expunging the anxiety from his body- some of it, anyway. Enough of it to ground himself, at the very least, something from therapy he’d told Garrett about some night long ago.

“You sure?” Is all Andrew says back. He’s looking at Garrett, but not in the eyes. His gaze is lower. Garrett can feel his hands start to shake.

He nods- it’s all Garrett can manage, right now, with Andrew looking across the small space at him like that. On their couch, in their little spooky apartment, with their music playing softly in the silence. It feels cataclysmic. It feels like maybe they’ve been working towards this night for a long time; an accumulation of every video they’ve filmed, every drink they’ve shared, every valentines day spent at each other's houses and every time they’ve stayed up far, far past midnight only for the sake of being in each others presence- only to do it all over again the next day, and the next, and the one after that.

Andrew nods, too- slightly, hardly noticeable. It’s almost as if he’s reassuring himself, trying to keep up with the confidence he’s trying to manifest that always seems to be one step ahead of them both. Garrett could try to do the same, but right now it's as if his world is imploding in on itself like an ancient star- an open, gaping black hole threatening to show its face, pull him inside and everything else along with him. He feels as though if he breathes it will be enough to set it off, atoms and particles colliding and accelerating around him, and there won’t be any chance to go back. For better or for worse.

When Andrew does pull forward, one hand moving to the tight little space of cushion between Garretts leg and the plush backrest to steady himself, Garrett almost leans away in response- even if it is the last thing he wants to do. He has an idea, now, about what’s going on here, but it’s happening so fast and so unexpectedly and it still seems like something he shouldn’t want, something that he intrinsically just cannot have and cannot begin to hope to have. He’s spent so long talking to himself in his head about how unfair it would be to Andrew, how it was okay to just have him as a friend, how worth it all of the pining and pain and sadness was if it meant Andrew still got to shine some golden light into the darkest, dustiest corners of his life. Now they’re here, and Andrew is closer than he’s ever been, and he’s only getting closer.

Garrett can see everything, now. He’s looked at him closely in the past, sure, but it had felt weird and creepy because it had been while Andrew was asleep, still and quiet and peaceful and perfect as ever. His lips parted just slightly when he wasn’t awake, curled under Garrett’s spare sheets or curtains or comforter, and Garrett would watch sometimes, fueling dreams of waking up together that he’d try to scrub off of himself in the shower the next morning. They stuck around in his head, no matter how much he wished he could forget them, no matter how much they burned deep in his chest. It still hadn’t stopped him, though. He doubts that anything ever could’ve.

This time, though, Andrew is awake and alive and breathing right in front of him, close enough he can smell the wine on his lips, can see the deep, twisting colours of his iris’, the delicate, light line of eyelashes surrounding them. It gives him a feeling of unreality, a sense of familiarity from the deepest, most burried of his dreams, and it’s somehow so much like them and so, so different at the same time.

There’s a moment, a beat that passes between them, and it doesn’t quite feel like hesitation- more like Andrew is taking it in, feeling it out, pausing to exist in this proximity to Garrett that’s so unexplored but also just as natural as any other part of them together.

And then he tips forward, and there’s a hand tangled blindly into the folds of Garrett's shirt, catching on a button, and lips pressed so, so delicately against his own.

Garrett’s breath hitches in his chest, his ribs tight and hot and constrictive, and it feels like the apartment is spinning around him behind his eyes that have closed on their own volition. He’s never really allowed himself to think of how this would feel. Not sober, anyway -because he’d promised himself a long time ago not to get caught up in things so far removed from his reality -but now he feels a bit stupid. This, right now, is reality, a reality he’d missed before, allowed to pass by him like a bullet train, blinking every time it came around the tracks.

He makes some little, pathetic sound in his throat, far from purposeful, and Andrew only presses in closer. Neither pull back- instead, Andrew brings Garrett forward by his shirt, and Garrett lets himself be led, and if his mind hadn’t just gone into another stratosphere he might stop to pinch himself now.

It is everything . It’s tender, it’s soft, it’s caring and kind and slow and a perfect culmination of what Garrett has always loved about Andrew, everything he loves about him now. It feels like their history, their friendship, all of their time spent with no one else on their minds all put together in a moment just for them, and Garrett doesn’t pay mind to the little pin-pricks of moisture at the corners of his eyes.

Andrew parts, slowly, hand still tangled up in Garrett’s flannel, eyes blinking open as Garrett does the same.

There’s a moment, then, where Garrett feels scared all over again. His confidence has always been lacking and the sticky, evil part of his brain that insists on self-sabotage pipes up to tell him that this might not be a beginning but an end; Andrew might regret this, might hate it, might just be using Garrett as a little experiment that’s failing right in front of his eyes. Garrett knows better, knows Andrew wouldn’t do that to him in a million years, knows the love between them is genuine even if it is just friendship, but that beat of fear floods across him anyway, a tsunami just as overwhelming as the earthquake-kiss that has caused it to roll out of the ocean in Garrett’s heart.

But then Andrew is smiling. Smiling and laughing, quiet and breathy, a few steps softer than his usual manic giggle that Garrett has always been so good at drawing out of him. And it’s perfect. It’s right. It feels exactly how it’s supposed to, how it was always supposed to be, like they’ve just found the last puzzle piece under the carpet after weeks of searching high and low. The satisfaction of a complete and beautiful picture in front of them, ready to be framed and hung and put on display for anyone who cared to see.

“Woah.” Andrew says, simply, between little bouts of laughter that soothe the quakes in Garrett’s soul.

Garrett nods, and he can feel the corners of his mouth turn upwards, too, and hopes the shakes in his chest are him laughing back.

“Woah.” He confirms, trying to ignore the bead that does escape and tumble from his eye, running down his cheek.

Andrew doesn’t- he reaches up, swipes it away with his thumb, soft and uncalloused and so much unlike Garrett’s own. He doesn’t mention it, not out loud- he doesn’t need to. He knows why it’s there, knows it’s not a bad thing, knows it’s for him but from a place of happiness, of relief, of the dissipation of something that has been building inside for far, far too long. Andrew does know him better than he knows himself, after all.

Garrett thinks maybe he was right earlier in saying that his world was imploding and collapsing in like a dying star, irreversibly changing the fabric of his universe, their universe- and as terrifying as it had felt, now they’re past it; now it’s a supernova, expanding outwards, white-hot and exciting and fast and full of energy, of atoms, of incredible power and potential that has been there all along, waiting patiently, slowly reacting and changing until the moment of release. Crossing thresholds and boundaries in a slew of colours and light, rippling through them, through this beautiful little home, the Beehive, Garrett’s backyard in L.A., the tiny house, the trails in Spokane and the endless stretches of highway between it all.

Garrett reaches forward, his hand shaking from how much feeling is breaking through the cracks now, how much want and time and pain and suppression that has been building up inside him for so long. Now finally free, wordlessly gathering and spilling out between them, making sense in the way they just simply and intrinsically do. Garrett doesn’t have words- and he guesses from Andrew’s response, the lopsided grin on his face, that he doesn’t have them either -but when have they ever needed words before?

He places his hand, gently, on the side of Andrew’s face, mirroring the one on his own, and he can feel everything- every little hair, the tiny imperfections, the softness Andrew exudes. It’s everything he’s never allowed himself to want with any real intention. Still, he’s glad he didn’t. He’s glad he has been patient, has waited for Andrew, has held out for this perfect payoff. Something about it feels right, and he can’t possibly think of any time with Andrew as being wasted, no matter the nature of their relationship.

This is exactly where they’re supposed to be. He doesn’t know how he knows this, but it doesn’t make him any less sure of its truth.

It’s Garrett’s turn now to be swept up in it, to pull forwards into Andrew and everything he’s ever loved with such intensity before, to seal the deal, to feel his world shake again at the touch of their lips-

And then the bedroom door, down the hall, swings open. The creak is loud and jarring and they both jump halfway out of their skin, having let their guard down and forgetting about the incredibly active and horrifying ghost business they’re kissing in the middle of.

They both look over, frozen, gaping at the dark, open chasm of the doorway. Garrett expects himself to be scared, but he isn’t- just as he knows deep within himself how right this is, he knows this isn’t happening with any malice towards them. It feels more like a push in the right direction. Maybe it has been the whole time, and he simply hasn’t been allowing himself to see it.

Gently, as he always is when it comes to Andrew, Garrett guides his head back to face him, back to reality. Garrett is smiling, as open and wide and inviting as he possibly can be, and he can see the fear bleed away from Andrew's face, the way the softness returns to his eyes. He will never, ever take that for granted.

Garrett can’t help it- he starts laughing, and then he can’t stop, building in his chest and boiling over in a tirade, and of course it gets Andrew going, too. They’re used to getting lost in their feedback-loop of giggles, high and intoxicating and overwhelming, the end not yet in sight. With any hope, it never will be. Garrett tips his head back, lost in it, reveling in the sound of the both of them mixing in his ears.

Andrew only laughs harder, his grasp once again finding it's way to Garrett’s shirt, one that's exchanged hands so many times before they can't remember who bought it in the first place (and really, that only begs the question of why it's taken them so long to get here, doesn’t it?). He tugs him forward, and Garrett crashes into him- he’s never one to back down from a challenge, even the ones he makes up for himself.

They fall, Andrew backwards on the couch, making some loud, very Andrew-esque exclamation between breathless fits. Garrett comes down on top of him, wrapping his arms around Andrew, pulling himself close, taking everything in in a blur of noise and colours and emotions.

“Garrett- NO!” Andrew shouts in surprise, still smiling and laughing and unabashedly happy. It’s far too loud for this time of night, breaking their personal promise to not be everyone's least favourite neighbours.

“Oh, Andrew! Carry me away, like Richard Gere!” He says, high and sing-songy and as naturally Garrett as ever, if not more. He plants little pecs across his cheek, into his hair, wherever he can reach as Andrew tries to playfully bat him away, to somehow escape Garrett’s impressively tight grasp on him, and they both know he won’t succeed. It’s also understood that he doesn’t want to, not really.

He could stay like this forever, caught in the tide of Andrew, riding this wave as it crashes towards the shore, only to be pulled back out to sea again, endlessly looping and endlessly happy and fulfilled and beautiful.

And, he thinks, he will- they both will. Their supernova, their space in the universe, their perfect explosion. It’s only just beginning now, after all this time, and the future is so, so bright and shining that Garrett wouldn’t change a thing.

Not for all of the stars in the sky. Garrett already has his, after all. He always has, and he always will.

#Garrett Watts #Andrew Siwicki #Gandrew #my writing #sweet boys #sweet boys podcast

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