#like going to shoes and being in bands was the coolest shit and it is definitely how I came to be the person I am now

[beomglocks]

sk8ter boi ; c.bg

summary : he was a boy, she was a girl. can i make it anymore obvious?

pairing : skaterboy!beomgyu x reader

warnings & other : reader already has a child with yeonjun ok, beomgyu still pining after all these years, based off queen avril lavigne’s sk8ter boi song, listen while reading if you want 

w/c : 2.1K (i may have gotten carried away)

"where'd you get that note and roses from?" your friend maria asks you when you get into class. you wipe away your smile quickly, already knowing who the mystery person was. "i don't know."

yeah, of course you knew. how could you not when the boy oh so clumsily shoved them in your locker while you were literally turning the corner. he tried to act like he wasn't doing anything but he was clearly caught. he tried to play it off in the best way possible and smooth talk his way into a conversation with you but you shut him down due to the bell ringing.

"oh- oh ok sure...yeah," beomgyu stumbled over his words, nervousness eating away at him with you being here. "yo gyu you coming? i just finished fixing my drum kit," his friend, jeongin, calls him over, interrupting your already over conversation.

"you should go...but thanks for whatever you just threw in my locker," you laugh. he nods hesitantly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "dude," jeongin now stands in your vicinity. he looks at you and beomgyu before pulling away his best friend to where the spare band room was.

"well open the letter, we wanna know who your little secret admirer is," maria says, leaning onto your desk. your other friends agree, eager to know who was pining over you. you laugh nervously before opening it. you're not sure how they'll react to finding out that it's beomgyu.

you see, you wouldn't exactly call yourself the prettiest girl in the school but hell it sure was close. almost everyone would compliment you every day even if it was something minor like a change in your nail color. you kind of prided yourself in that, not to gas yourself up or anything.

someone like beomgyu...well. he wasn't exactly the ideal guy, to put it simply. he was a skater boy, he hung out with the "simple boys" who skated and did music and hung out around the skate parks after school. he wasn't the scholar type like soobin or the athlete type like yeonjun, he was simple.

you liked simple but your friends didn't. they had preferences for people like soobin and yeonjun, not people like beomgyu. you could probably guess they felt like beomgyu was the bottom of the barrel, like a roach on their foot not worthy of their time.

you pull the letter out of the envelope. for some reason without even trying, you could smell his cologne all over it. you want to smile at the obvious try hard gesture but your friends don't allow it. "what the fuck is that smell, it's so strong," maria gags. you roll your eyes at her dramatics. "it doesn't smell that bad."

"yes the fuck it does," she retorts. "just see what it says." you read over the letter, smiling at certain parts where you could tell he'd done his research on the things you liked. "it's from beomgyu," you say when you finish the letter. you already knew this anyway but maria's eyes go wide and she suddenly snatches the letter from your grasp. "hey!"

"CHOI beomgyu?" she asks while she reads the letter herself. "yeah?" you confirm.

your other friends mumble amongst themselves and you can hear some snicker. "y/n you could do so much better. beomgyu is like a street rat or something. don't do that to yourself," she laughs like it's the funniest thing she's ever said. you don't think beomgyu's that bad but you also don't stand up for him, simply biting your lip as she continues.

"he barely comes to school and when he does all he does is sleep. he skates with those other weirdos and thinks he's gonna make it big with his shitty guitar playing- i mean have you heard him?" she rolls her eyes, throwing the letter back on your desk. "you should go out with yeonjun, i think yall would be a cute couple. the prettiest girl with the coolest guy, your babies would be so damn cute."

"babies?!" you laugh at her ridiculousness. "yes! have you seen choi yeonjun?" she sighs in content. "anyways, don't pay beomgyu any mind because he's not gonna make it in life. go for someone like yeonjun and please for the love of god throw that letter away!"

you never did throw the letter away. you sigh as you think back to your high school years. you had just found it hidden behind one of the closet drawers while you were looking for valkyrie's binkie. she was crying so much since her father had gone out for the day and you were stuck taking care of her, as always.

you wonder how beomgyu was doing. you both talked after the fact but fell off during college since he had gone off to do his own thing. you didn't know what that thing was but you were proud of him nonetheless. you finished high school, went to college, got a good paying job, and were now married with a kid. all at the young age of 21. the typical life, you figure.

you're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear your child crying in the next room. "shit," you mumble to yourself. you leave the letter in your drawer and head back to the living room with the binkie. "valkyrie~" you sing song.

she continues crying, not giving a fuck about your efforts to calm her. she was usually a bit of a daddy's girl. "val please stop crying," you exasperate. "daddy's not coming home until late today. cut me some slack babygirl."

you slip the binkie into her mouth but her shrill cries go right through it. "let me go see if you need a diaper change," you mutter.

before you can even get up from the couch you hear your phone ring from somewhere in the couch. "shit where did i put my phone?" you put valkyrie down to look for your phone but it stops ringing before you can begin searching. you wait for it to ring again you find it between the cracks of the couch.

"oh hey mari," you say in confusion. after high school ended, you and maria kind of fell off along with all your other popular friends. you still had that clout all throughout college given who you were dating but you kind of strayed away from her. you guys were still on speaking terms though but this call was odd since it had been months since the last time she called.

"GIRL-" she pauses for a moment, still as dramatic as ever. "what it is mari? val won't stop crying she needs attention," you sigh, looking over at your daughter. her cries had gotten softer but she was still grumpy about not being with her father.

"girl turn on your tv to MTV right now- like right now before you miss it!" she says hurriedly. "this better be good you know i dont watch those shows," you say into the phone. you place the phone between your ear and shoulder so you can hold valkyrie while watching whatever it was that maria wanted you to watch.

then you see it. "is that-?" you begin. "CHOI beomgyu! yes girl!" maria finishes your sentence. she's right. there he is, the boy you were just thinking about was on your tv screen. "he's famous?" you ask.

maria sucks her teeth, "apparently after high school and like a year or two of college, he dropped out to pursue a music career and i guess it worked out for him." you nod even though she can't see you. "he signed with a label and now he's in like some super fucking famous band, look at him," she continues.

you stare at your tv screen in silence, watching beomgyu have the time of his life on the MTV stage. he really did get good on his guitar. the camera pans to the drummer and your eyes go wide when you see jeongin. wow, they really stayed together this whole time.

"he's fine as hell," you admit. you hear maria cackle on the other side, "you said it, he looks so attractive playing guitar like that, look at his fingers."

"ok alright maria, i have a child right next to me," you say. she laughs again, "anyways, i got tickets to their next show. you wanna come with?"

you're not sure how you managed to convince yeonjun to stay home with the baby while you went out with maria to this concert, but you did it. he was skeptical of letting you go out with what you were wearing which is why you both argued before you eventually stormed out to go anyways.

when you met up with maria outside the venue she looked up and down with a knowing smile. "i thought that pussy belonged to mr. choi yeonjun? what're you all dressed up for?"

"dressed up?" all you were wearing was a black and white bandana for a top and tight leather pants and comfortable shoes. "do the pants really have to hug your ass like that though?" she jokingly slaps your butt and you glare at her. "that's what yeonjun said," you mumble to yourself.

the concert goes smoothly and you're glad you actually got to see beomgyu in person and playing guitar. one thing about choi beomgyu is that he will play guitar like it's his last day on earth. he plays with so much intensity that you almost feel bad for the guitar.

you could almost feel how the crowd's energy in this packed room transferred to the members. if it was even possible, they started to play with more vigor.

at some point, beomgyu was full on immersed in his own playing. his once fluffy hair was now soaked with sweat and covering his forehead and eyes. he kept headbanging along to the beat while skillfully moving his fingers along the strings of the guitar.

during the middle of one of their songs, beomgyu took the center stage for his guitar solo. it was a fast paced riff that just seemed to give the song more life. his head is down so that it's solely focused on the guitar but once he finished the hardest part of the riff he looked up smugly. the crowd went absolutely mad when beomgyu bit his lip during the rest of his solo.

you had to admit the boy had stage presence, you practically almost re-fell in love with him.

after the show, you and maria went to get refreshments at the nearby bar. beomgyu seemed to already be there talking to one of his members so you took this opportunity to speak with him. you wonder if he'll remember you after all these years but you take your chances.

"beomgyu!" you shout over the music that's playing in the background. he whips his head around to the sound of his name being called and smiles lightly when he sees you. when you get to him, he subtly looks you up and down, taking in your body and attire. "y/n is that you?" he says, his voice laced with something teasing.

"you remember me?" you ask him with a smile. "how could i forget a face like yours," he smiles, leaning back. you laugh and he smiles. "i just saw you on stage, i never thought you'd become this huge! congrats!"

he nods, "yeah, i always wanted to make it big you know." he trails off, looking over you again like he's entranced somehow. "so how's life? you still with-"

"yeonjun...yeah we um- we have a kid...now," you finish nervously. did he really have to bring yeonjun up right now. "a kid?" he says, surprised. "let me see."

you show him a selfie of you and valkyrie that you took at a time when she wasn't completely hating your existence and wanting to cuddle her father instead of you. he laughs and leans back once again, "she's cute like you, she definitely got her mom's features."

"yeah and she's got her dad's attitude," you say, mostly to yourself but beomgyu catches it. "oh yeah! i wanted to say, i really like that one song you played, uh- fairy?"

"fairy of shampoo? yeah we added our own little rock twist to it," he says. "you know the lyrics are actually about y-" your phone cuts him off and you apologize, turning away to answer it. "what is it yeonjun"

beomgyu sighs in frustration when he hears you say that. when you finish talking you turn back to him and he has his eyebrow raised in question. "looks like my fun is over," you laugh dryly. he nods in understanding, "before you go though, let me get your number so we can catch up sometime."

you agree, not wanting to pass up the chance to reconnect with your now famous friend.

"maybe we'll see each other around gyu," you smile, beginning to walk away.

he smiles at the old nickname, waving you off, "i sure hope so."

#beomgyu imagines #beomgyu reactions #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu drabble #txt imagines #drabble #tomorrow x together imagines #txt headcanons #beomgyu headcanons #txt reactions #txt scenarios #beomgyu timestamps #beomgyu fic #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #fluff

[gumjester]

top 5 least favorite eah characters because i want to see shit go down

oh god. when called to speak the truth, i have no choice.

1. rosabella. lets rip this band-aid off first and fast. i am so sure that im wrong, that i've got something mismatched in my head and there's actually a really good reason people like her, but i have never seen rosabellas appeal as a character. i've watched epic winter three times now, including once when i was taking meticulous notes the entire time, and i have found that not only is rosabella a ridiculously flat character, she's also deadass a bitch. i can quote multiple lines because i wrote them down where rosabella says something that's just completely out of pocket for no reason. there's one i can even write down now because it's burned into my mind forever just from how hard it clobbered me over the fucking head, where the gang is hiking up the mountain and rosabellas skis break or something and daring goes "oh i could carry you" and rosabella FUCKING responds like "daring, are you finally thinking about something other than yourself?" which is just ridiculously out of order in my eyes. who fucking says that. what the fuck. there are a million other things i cant stand about rosabella but that about sums it up for now i don't want to prolong this dskjfgljdfg

2. brooke. i genuinely feel so bad about this. brooke page is the coolest concept with the worst possible execution. she is the random fucking twelve year old your friend is babysitting who won't stop poking you and asking if you have games on your phone except she's also a god who will destroy the universe to make you give her your phone and then not think a fucking thing of it when everyone is picking up the pieces after her. she's annoying, her voice is annoying, her stupid fucking footnotes in the shadow high book were annoying. i would kick a child. i would.

3. blondie. i think blondie's pretty entertaining and a useful character, but as a person she repulses and terrifies me. she produced propaganda. i mention this to every single person i interact with but that's because i literally cant get over it. the webisode is called blondie's just right and the entire time it's just her conducting hoaxes to make the school and headmaster grimm look good and then it's never addressed again. it's just something she does. she also breaks into random houses and has absolutely no handle on the ethics of journalism. blondie is a classist social parasite bootlicker and i can't stand the bitch

4. bunny. I'M SO SORRY I KNOW WHAT I SAID IN MY WONDERLANDIAN TOP 5 BUT THIS IS PERSONAL. it dates back to year 10 chemistry where my friend and i would pick an eah character and slag them off to amuse ourselves, and bunny became the staple of this game because lets be honest her canon character is so easy to kick at. we villainised her so much it was fucking ridiculous but so funny, i remember we made up this intricate theory with spider diagrams about how bunny was the root of every single bad thing that happens in the show. it was all jokes but that's how deep this went. im currently trying to unlearn my bunny hate but its so deep rooted its going to take a while. sorry bunny, you did nothing wrong but i still hate you for no reason

5. crystal. theres really no one else in eah i have massively negative feelings about, and i think a character as blank as crystal winter being on this list proves that. i actually dont hate her - rewatching epic winter i realised she did actually have a character arc and learn stuff which is sometimes a thing that characters just bypass in eah so i was pleased. however her entire arc culminated in learning how to tie her stupid little hockey shoes without the assistance of her child servants so minus points for that. also she's just super fucking annoying, i feel comfortable saying that because who the hell likes crystal enough to defend her

im really sorry for all the other salt though, i promise i'm just irrational and a bitch so if you think i'm wrong about your favourite character, yes i am. they're the best, don't listen to me

#eah #ever after high #rosabella beauty salt #brooke page salt #blondie lockes salt #bunny blanc salt #crystal winter salt #i dont want to actually tag the characters because that feels so mean omg #thank you for the ask tho nothingtosee babe #i hope sufficient shit went down

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Little Man

A/N: I kinda just got this random idea and went with it. Hope you guys like it! Pairing: Gerard x F!Reader (Single mom) Word count: 3,159 Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating and dramatic break ups.

Gerard was the perfect boyfriend, there was no doubt about it.

After the two of you had gone out together four times, you finally admitted that you had a four year old son. While guys you had previously gone out with had thrown themselves in other directions, leaving you behind to get out of the situation of being a father figure, Gerard took that with a kind smile and a simple “Alright”.

And to make it even better, Beau thought Gerard was the coolest person ever. From his occupation as the lead singer in a rock band, to the way he dressed, to his interests, Beau was fascinated, and immediately wanted to be just liked Gerard.

And you let him. Gerard got the little guy his first pair of black converse and leather jacket, and you eventually redid his whole closet to be jeans and cool little super hero and band t-shirts. The only thing that was off limits were piercings and dying hair.

You stood in the mirror, Beau on his stepping stool as you brushed out his hair, “But mama,” He complained, “Gerard doesn’t brush his hair.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“And you’re not Gerard.” You told him.

“But I wanna be!” “I know buddy.” You knelt down next to him, “But there are some basic things we have to do like brush your hair, okay? That way you look nice.” “But Gerard looks nice.” “I never said he didn’t,” You retorted, “But this is all mama asks, okay?” He reluctantly nodded. You two both heard the door open, Beau running out of the bathroom and down the hall.

“Gerard!” You could hear him yell, you trailing slowly behind him. Turning the corner you saw your boyfriend pick up Beau, swinging him around in the air once before placing him on his hip.

“Hey little man,” He smiled, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” He admitted.

“Nothing?” Gerard questioned, “I thought your mom always had you doing something.” “Only sometimes,” He responded.

“Hey,” Gerard looked to you, walking over and giving you a peck on the lips.

“Hey,” You said back, smiling, “Now you two have fun, just be back by eight.” “Of course,” Gerard said, “Ready bud?” He asked Beau, who was still on his hip. The young boy nodded.

“Bye mama!” He said.

“Bye, baby.” You gave him a quick kiss on the head. “You have fun. And be nice and polite.” “I will!” He said, Gerard flashing you a quick smile before departing out the door.

Beau had begged for months to be able to go with Gerard to the studio and help them with their new album. Despite Gee insisting that he and the guys were more than happy to have him, you were worried about how much of a disturbance he would be. While you loved Beau, the little guy liked to talk. A lot.

But at least this gave you an opportunity to get some additional work done, and some down time. Your job as an editor for a publishing house meant lots of reading and note taking, not that you minded, it was your passion. But it was tiring.

Hours went by, sitting on the couch with you computer, red wine, and sweatpants. You heard the door open, looking up to see Gerard walk in again, this time Beau on his chest, his head in his neck asleep. You lightly smiled, Gerard smiling back. “Hey,” You whispered, getting up and closing your laptop, walking over to where the two of them were, Gerard carefully taking his shoes off with his feet to not wake Beau up.

“Hey,” He whispered back, kissing you.

“Want me to get him to bed?” You asked and he shook his head.

“I got him.” He responded, moving slightly past you and into his bedroom. There, he quickly tucked the boy in, despite his jeans and shirt being on, as you both knew he would at one point or another wake up briefly in the upcoming hours.

“How did it go?” You asked Gerard as he walked back out from Beau’s room, sitting on the couch next to you.

“Incredible,” He smiled, “All the guys loved him, Ray taught him a few chords on guitar, he actually wrote a lyric, and he got to sing.” You smiled.

“Yeah?” You asked, “How’s his ability to sing?” “Better than any four year old I’ve heard.” You lightly laughed.

“Thank you.” You said lightly, caressing his cheek. Gerard leaned in and gave you another kiss.

“It’s the least I could do.” He replied. You smiled even more, making him smile more, and leading very quickly into a couch make out session, which only lasted a few minutes before your phone began to ring.

“Hello?” You answered, sitting back on the couch as Gerard placed his hand on your thigh.

“Y/N, hey it’s Calem.” “What do you need?” You asked harshly, Gerard giving you a quizzical look at your sudden change in tone.

“Wow, not even a hello?” Your ex joked over the phone.

“If you don’t tell me what you need in the next 10 seconds I’m going to hang up and block your ass.” “Fine,” He reluctantly sighed, “I’m in New York for the next few days. I was wondering if I could come see Beau tomorrow, take him out for the day.” You sighed.

“Fine,” You said, “Be here at 9, have him back by 5.” “Of course.” He replied and you hung up.

“Who was that?” Gee asked, still looking confused.

“Calem.” You sighed, throwing your phone on the coffee table and taking your head in your hands, sighing heavily. “He’s in town, wants to see Beau tomorrow.”

“So you said yes?” You nodded.

“I mean, he’s his biological dad, I wasn’t gonna say no.” He nodded.

“Mama?” You heard a small voice from around the kitchen.

“Yeah, baby, what’s up?” You asked Beau, who stood in the hallway rubbing his eyes.

“How long have I been ‘sleep?” He asked.

“Only about an hour love.” You admitted as he gave out a loud yawn. “It’s probably about time you get back to it.” You got up, walking over and picking the small boy up. “Will Gerard sleep over?” He asked you, looking back at Gerard.

“I don’t know, lovely.” You admitted. “I can if you want.” You heard him say behind you, Beau nodding his head and then placing it on your shoulder.

“Yes please.” He said, you began brushing his hair with your fingers.

“Mkay bud, let’s get you to bed.” You said, taking him into his room, helping him get into pajamas and then into bed.

You gave him a kiss on the head, tucking him in and turning off his lights before walking a short way down the hall of your apartment into your room where Gerard was putting a shirt on for bed. “Hey,” He said lightly, seeing you walk in a shut the door. He could tell you were in a mood.

So he let you go and take your time in the shower, slowly changing before treading your way into your bed next to him. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, “And be honest.”

“Anxious,” You said, “Really anxious.”

“Wanna talk about it? It may make you feel better?” You nodded, curling up into his side as he placed his arm around you, squeezing into you, playing with wet strands of your hair.

For almost an hour you told Gerard everything, head placed in his lap as he listened. “It’s just so frustrating.” You finished off, he lightly nodded his head.

“It’s okay, babe.” He said lightly, “Everything will go fine tomorrow. And if it doesn’t, I’ll beat the shit out of him.” You chuckled.

“Thanks, Gee.” You said, leaning up and giving him a kiss. The two of you later drifted off to sleep.

You woke up, Gerard still sleeping next to you, so you slowly rose out of bed and into the sunlight directing into from the floor to ceiling windows and into the room. Your bare feet pattered lightly on the hardwood floors and into the bathroom where you began to get ready.

“Morning, honey.” You heard Gerard’s morning voice ring as he walked in to the bathroom, hugging you from behind and placing his head in the crook in your neck.

“Morning, Gee.” You lightly laughed, brushing your teeth and using one of your hands to brush his messy hair with your fingers.

“You’re so beautiful.” He muttered into your shoulder making a light pink blush grow on your cheeks.

“Thanks.” You said, leaning back into him.

“Should I go wake him up?” Gerard asked next, making eye contact with you in the mirror. You nodded.

“Probably.” He let go of you, trudging his way out of your bathroom to Beau’s room. A few minutes later you heard the small boys laughter, Gerard and he walking in. Beau was comfortably seated on the older man’s shoulders, hanging on as he ran around with him.

He sat him down gently on the floor, letting him hop off and run to you, “Good morning baby.” You smiled, ruffling his hair a bit. “Morning Mama.” He lightly laughed, clinging onto your leg. You picked him up, placing him on your hip and taking him to his room giving Gerard time to get ready.

“Gotta get dresses babes,” You said, “You’re seeing daddy today.” He looked up at you.

“Daddy?” You nodded. “Okay.” He said in a monotone voice.

You got him dressed in a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt, and of course his leather jacket which he insisted he had to have. “Ready bubs?” You asked and he nodded, “Alright, he’ll be here in 10.”

The two of you walked out into the kitchen, where Gerard was already dressed with his coffee, yours sitting at the island. “Hey little man.” Gerard said, giving Beau a quick high five as he walked by.

“Gerard?” He asked him, Gee’s attention going completely to the boy. “When will I get to go back and help you make music?” Gerard smiled.

“Whenever you want, dude.” He said. Beau smiled.

“Okay, good.” You lightly laughed under your breath at his response. Then you heard a knock at the door. The three of you stopped, Beau going to the door before you two, Gerard taking a brief moment to give a light squeeze to your arm for reassurance.

“You know mama’s phone number if you need anything, right?” You asked Beau and he nodded, “And Gerard’s?” He nodded again.

You headed to the door, opening it. There was your ex, standing at the other side, giving a very tight smile if one when you opened the door. “Hey Calum.” You said, Beau next to you.

“Hey,” He responded, “Ready bud?” He asked Beau who nodded, walking out to be next to his dad. Gerard emerged from behind you.

“Bye Mama, bye Gerard.” Beau said and both of you waved.

“Still playing with toys I see?” Calum asked, glancing between you and Gerard.

“Gerard is not a toy,” You stated clearly, “And I never have. Unlike someone who think it’s okay to with a pregnant fiance.” You flashed him a petty smile. He looked slightly shocked, gulping. “Alright, bud, we should probably get going.” He said, the two of them walking down your apartment buildings hall and to the elevator, you shutting the door behind you.

“Was that too harsh?” You turned to Gerard who was still behind you.

“Eh,” He said, sipping his coffee, “He’s a dick, so no.” You lightly smiled. “Come here.” He told you, stretching his arms out. You graciously caved into him, wrapping your arms around him as he did yours. “Everything’ll be alright honey.” He kissed the top of your head, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“I hope so, Gee.” You said, holding onto him tighter.

The two of you spent the day overall working and picking up around the apartment. It wasn’t the most enjoyable task in the world, but it needed to get done.

Finally, the two of you plopped yourselves on the couch, sighing out in relief of the jobs being done. You were still tense, thinking about Beau and what could be going on, ‘Everything’s fine’ you tried to reassure yourself.

“Babe,” Gerard spoke up, “Are you alright?” You nodded.

“Yeah, totally.” “Be honest with me,” He said, “I’m not dumb.”

“I’m just really worried about Beau.” He nodded, letting you lean yourself onto him as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay, love.” He said, “Just relax, okay? If worst comes to worst if something does happen we’ll deal with it when he gets back, okay?” You nodded into his chest. “Hey, look at me,” He said, placing his fingers on your chin and moving your head up to look at him in the eyes, “We both love Beau, if anything happens we will deal with it. Okay?” You nodded, leaning in to give him a kiss, which quickly led to a make out session, which quickly led to bedroom activities.

“What time is it?” You asked, still out of breath and next to Gerard. He looked over, his now sweaty black hair moving with him.

“4:30.” He responded.

“Shit.” You sat up, using the duvet to cover yourself, “We need to shower before Beau gets back.” “We could shower together.” Gerard smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“I would love to, but we gotta be fast. And if we go in together it will not be short.” “Fine.” He sighed. You got up, quickly getting to the bathroom to shower, which only took ten minutes thankfully, and change back into your regular clothes from earlier, making the bed while Gerard took his own.

You brushed out your wet hair, putting it into a ponytail hopefully making it less noticeable that you had just showered. The two of you walked out into the living room, sitting on the couch and watching some random TV show awaiting the arrival of your son. So when the doorbell rang, you both sprang up, practically running to the door.

You opened it, your ex and son standing there. “Alright, bye bud.” He told Beau, who seemed to reluctantly give his dad a hug, saying bye back and walking in. It could have just been your motherly instincts, but you knew something was off.

“Bye Calum.” You told him, giving a tight smile and him giving one back before you shut the door. “Hey Bub,” You squatted down to talk to Beau, his small head facing down. “How was it?” “Okay.” He said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“Just okay?” You asked and he nodded. “Alright baby, why don’t you go put your stuff in your room?” You suggested, he nodded and walked off. “Something’s wrong.” You immediately turned to Gerard, mid-panic.

“Hey, hey, hey,” He said, trying to calm you down, “We’ll figure this out, okay? Just like we said.” You nodded frantically.

“I- I’m gonna go talk to him.” Gerard nodded in agreement, staying in the living room so you could discuss with your son. “Hey babes,” You walked in, lightly knocking. Beau was at his tiny desk drawing something, so you walked over. “So,” You sat on his bed, “How did it go with daddy?” “Eh,” You shrugged, not looking away from his drawing.

“What do you mean eh?” You asked.

“Not good.” He admitted, getting up and placing his work with some others he had in a small pile in the corner of his room.

“What happened?” You asked. He stopped looking to you as you saw tears fill his eyes. “Hey, hey baby.” You got up, squatting down and caressing his cheeks, wiping away any and all fallen tears. “What happened, bubs?” “Daddy said,” He began, stumbling on his words, “That Gerard was bad.” “He said Gerard was bad?” You asked, he nodded.

“I-I was telling him how c-cool G-Geard was, and h-he di-didn’t like it.” This time he tried to wipe away his own tears. “I-I told him I-I wanted G-Gerad to a-adopt me.” “Adopt you?” You asked, partially stunned. “Do you even know what that means.” “G-Gerad would become my d-dad.” You sighed, looking to the floor then back up at him.

“Do you really want that?” You asked next and he nodded. “Okay bud.” You kissed the top of his head, giving him a hug, “Why don’t you nap, okay? Then we can have dinner after.” He nodded, rubbing his eyes. You got him tucked in his bed, in some sleep clothes, and placed his favorite stuffed dog in bed with him. “I love you so much.” You said, lightly smiling and playing his his small strands of hair.

“I love you to, Mama.” He replied, “I wanna say I love you to Gerard too.” You lightly chuckled.

“Alright, I’ll send him in.” You got up, leaving out and turning out the light, going to get Gerard. “Hey,” You said lightly when you got to the living room, “Beau wants to say something to you.” “Oh, okay.” He perked up, getting up and walking down the hall to the young boy’s room. You sat on the couch, head in your hands, trying to contemplate what was going on. You weren’t sure what hurt you more: What Calum had said about Gerard, or Beau’s reaction to it.

“Hey,” Gerard walked out and lightly smiled, sitting next to you, “What happened.” “Too much.” You sighed, leaning back, “Apparently, Calum told Beau that you’re ‘bad’.” You shook your head.

“That I’m bad?” Gerard looked confused, you nodded.

“And Beau’s super upset.” He huffed.

“Damn fucker I-” “Hey, hey,” You said grabbing Gerard’s arm, “Let’s think about all of this first.” You told him, making eye contact, “I think there’s something else you should know.” He nodded, letting you know to go on, “Beau, he-” You paused, “He wants you to adopt him.” Gerard’s eyes went wide in shock.

“Like, legally?” You nodded.

“I think.”

“I um-”

“I know, if we were to even consider that it would be years out. But I just wanted to let you know.” He nodded.

“You know that makes this all the more harder?” He told you.

“I know, but we gotta stay strong through this mild drama for Beau.” “For Beau.” He concluded.

You two were in the kitchen cooking dinner when you heard small footsteps. “Hey little man.” Gerard greeted a tired Beau, walking in with his PJs and rubbing his eyes.

“Hi Gerard.” He said, yawning. Gerard naturally picked him up, placing him on his hip.

“How was your nap, man?” He asked, moving some of his droopy hair out of his face.

“Good.” He replied, leaning into the man, “Hey Gerard?” He said.

“Hm?” He replied, looking down at the boy.

“I love you.” “I love you too, little dude.”

#gerard way #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way x reader #gee way #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gerard #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

[theawesomeally]

Before We Met (Preview)

Prologue

In a world inhabited by mythic creatures, love was commonplace several millennia ago, though difficult to master. After his training advances over the decades, his powers became obsolete and were largely discarded.

[The camera zooms in on the city and two blazing specks of light dash all over the place as one shoots lasers at the other. We then see an enemy aircraft flying throughout while it's chasing a young man, who is running from the pursuer. We see full closeups of a guy in his craft and Rocky as he runs. The scene freezes after an explosion with Rocky barely missing it.]

[voice over]

Through the years I have been known by many names. Marshmallow, The Furry Lover, The Daredevil, Frisky Two Times and then The amazing Ryan Reynolds. But to most, I am Rocky, the awesome one!

[Some other women, leaning across the wall, and Rocky getting his shades from his pocket. Put it onto his eyes. While he puts his hoodie onto his shoulders. Rocky was dressed like a gentleman, but he fought with honor or dignity and pulled at the knot into his tie. Females are not meant to grab his attention, and if it does. To be fair, he heard most of what he'd said up to this point. The parts that weren't of his interest, anyway.

Okay, maybe that wasn't much]

His sigh is heavy with exasperation,

"Can you keep your dick in your pants at the gala?"

Grab his phone from his pocket, automatically switching it out of Bluetooth mode, and bring his earphone up to his ear.

I will never forget you, Margarita. [The female stops and cringe after hearing the name. His blue prominent eyes were not well adapted to winking. They were rather of the sort that closes solemnly in slumber with majestic effect.

Rocky pretend to consider as Rocky step out of the car and button his tux jacket. "Hmm."

"Nice wheels, sir," the valet says, unconcerned that he was on the phone. Rocky pull out his wallet and flash a fifty-dollar bill. "Take care of her and this is yours."

"Yes, Mr. Rocky."

"I mean, Rosa. Uh...sorry. I think maybe I should go.???." She wrapped her arms over her chest and shook her head with a smirk curved across her face. Rocky grinned and raised an ironical finger in salute Rocky starts backing away. "You can't get away with it." the security guard muttered, holding out one hand. He was moving very slowly, thinking Rocky was the enemy or something. Blinks at her as a farewell, but glance with a smug as he sees the vampire's ring. Mind was so wrapped up in thought that he didn't notice the familiar vampire standing behind him. A vampire with bad breath psycho. "Hey, come on, dickie! You're trashing public property here!" He is thinking about how he had to sneaked up onto the roof and is currently standing a few feet behind him.

Rocky then gently slides the ring off the vampire's finger using his katana.

Light glinted off a myriad of his Katana and the vampire ring. Spray from the dust to blew up into his face, but sweat more than seawater moistened his palms as he gripped the eagle. His eyes were as blue while the vampires eyes were cold as the stormy weather.

"Hey, it's Gale calling," says Rocky called over his shoulder to one nefarious vampire. "Love the shiny suit. Really brings out the sex trafficker in your eyes." Rocky had commented, half jokingly and straight up confident, how that guy would have been considered handsome - if he ever bothered to smile.

Cut to a shot of a cliff.

A grim expression again carved itself into the soldier's face as he gazed up at the jeering vampires, their bodies smeared with blood, upon the cliff tops. Even the most cowardly of tribes in Gaul would fancy its chances from such advantageous ground, one being was mused. The sound of their jeers was occasionally accompanied by the high pitched swish of an arrow, as the odd archer tried his luck. Invariably the missile would zip harmlessly into the sea, or at best a thud could be heard as it struck as a human shield or the solid surface of the earth.

Cut back to the fighting scene. Rocky is skewering a guy with his swords, and kicks the vampire in the chest, sending him back down and puts his sword away. The guy gasp and starts fighting with Rocky. This continues for awhile until Rocky get's away again. Using two fingers he salute the vampire as a goodbye.

Making a soft chuckle. He flicks the vampire ring up into the air. It comes back down and lands into one of the streets, causing his background to explode. The shards of fire fell in slow motion behind him.

He is consumed in the explosion, as his body can be seen flying off the ground, flipping off the camera as it goes. "Oh, fuck." Rocky mutter under his breath. "Oh, I'm sorry." A small apology leaving his lips with a smirk.

"That will teach you, not to mess with me," A familiar voiced ask, up righting his head as he walk over the circles and appeared in front of him,

(narrator)

So, I know what you're thinking. Why is that incredibly handsome guy being chased by a madman with a huge shiny fangs from the Civil War?

[The scene freezes after an explosion sending Rocky flying off the ground from the ground. After the dust settles, leaving Rocky lying unconscious on the ground.]

This guy's got the right idea. Well, to be honest, it feels like I've been the captain of my whole life. Is this too much? Am I going too fast? It's kind of what I do--You know what? Let's back up.

[We see the whole fight going in reverse as well as frames of future clips for a split second each time, one passes as Rocky mimics a rewind sound effect] Cut to close-up of Rocky gets up to his feet. Cut to him sitting on the side of the gable roof at night. Wondering how long it would be before he saw the city again. He had been born with a wandering heart, and he embraced adventure, unafraid to face the dangers often presented by journeys into unknown places. Leaving civilization behind for the wilds of the frozen north, legs dangling over the side as he listens to his Walkman next to him playing 'Shoop.' Rocky was vaguely singing along, making hand gestures along with the lyrics, but he was focused on his own drawing, while listening to the music and coloring a picture with crayons. We see that the picture he's drawing is him shooting the vampire in the head, he was doing it with some crayons he had with him.

It was fun to see that getting shot in the head, even if it was just a crayon drawing. He'd never soon change it to a reality. And then turned his head and stared directly at the camera, or the person reading, or just whoever balls happened to be paying a lot of attention to him.

Wha- Oh! Oh, hello. I know, right? Who's balls did I have to snap to get my very own story? I can't tell you, but it does rhyme with dick. And let me tell you; he's got a nice pair of fucking underwear, he finished in an Swedish accent.

They'd get that joke, right?

Anyway, I got places to be, a kiss in the ass to fix, and - oh! hot weird vampire to kill.

He watched eagerly as the flashes of light began to appear below him – lots of rippers were a very dramatic little shit, after all – we're panning quickly towards the edge of the roof he was sitting on. Now having an appointment to keep, Rocky was quick to get onto edge of the roof and, in one fluid motion, opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman, and the song "Where Evil Grows" by The Poppy Family stays playing in the background as he jumped off the roof, landing in one of the coolest bar in Mystic Falls. It seemed that they had been drinking peacefully, listening to 'Angel of the Morning,' but when Rocky landed and that's when their peaceful night was over.

They look around for which they finally see as Rocky stands at a wooden doorway wearing a cowboy hat, black sunglasses, and red a white hoodie as he opens a music playlist called Tunes of Anarchy on his Walkman. Opens up and the door swings open and the music resumes with people dancing and lights flashing as he goes inside the bar.

Nothing.

Absolutely positively not a fucking thing.

First one person turned, noticing him. Then more followed, until the whole patron was hushed, waiting. Everyone was watching, the same bewildered look on all of their faces. Eyebrows raised and narrowed eyes, etc. God, for months he'd played this moment over and over inside his mind. It most definitely never turned out like this. Whatever this was.

As he walks up to the bar. The room was narrow and about 90 feet deep. Light did manage to worm its way into the establishment, though. It seeped through the windows scattered along the walls, and through the gaps in the door between its wooden panels. A bar on the left at the front, then some upholstered horseshoe benches, then a cluster of freestanding tables on what, on other nights, might have been a dance floor. Then the stage, with the band on it. The band looked as if it had been put together by accident after a misfiling incident at a talent agency. The bass player was a stout old black guy in a suit with a vest. He was plucking away at an upright bass fiddle. The drummer could have been his uncle. He was a big old guy sprawled comfortably behind a small, simple kit. The singer was also a harmonica player and was older than the bass player and younger than the drummer and bigger than either one.

The guitarist was completely different. He was young and white and small. Maybe 20, maybe 5-foot-6, maybe 130 pounds. He had a fancy blue guitar wired to a crisp new amplifier and together the instrument and the electronics made sharp sounds full of space and echoes. The amp must have been turned up to 11. The sound was incredibly loud. It was as if the air in the room was locked solid. It had no more capacity for volume. But the music was good. The three black guys were old pros, and the white kid knew all the notes, and when and how and in what order to play them. He was wearing a red T-shirt and black pants and white tennis shoes. He had a very serious expression on his face. He looked foreign. Maybe Russian.

I watched them for a minute, and then I looked away. My name is Rocky, and once I was the most wanted man, with heavy emphasis on the past tense. I have been out nearly as long as I was in. But old habits die hard. I had stepped into the bar the same way I always step anywhere, which is carefully. One-thirty in the morning. I had ridden the train to West and walked south on Sixth Avenue and made the left turn on San Francisco bar and checked the sidewalks. I wanted music, but not the kind that drives large numbers of patrons outside to smoke.

His attention was taken away from patrons. It was at that point that he saw the young beautiful woman alone at her table, Her name tag read Katy, and her shirt clung tightly around her chest. Her hands worked quickly and gracefully with the bottles as she poured them another and took the empty's away.

I watched her in the gaudy, reflected light, with the music shrieking and pounding all around me. The two guys watched her. Her bodyguard watched her. She watched the guitarist. He was concentrating hard, key changes and choruses, but from time to time he would lift his head and smile, mostly at the glory of being up on the stage, but twice directly at the girl. The first of those smiles was shy, and the second was a little wider.

What met my eyes was a beautiful girl with golden hair and a bright smile that melted my heart. She was blond and blue-eyed, American woman who have a glow, and a smoothness complexion. She lives in New York, singing, listening to a band, and I was in love with her angelic voice. That was clear. There I was, a guy further back in the room, stood in the room staring at her. I was 6ft tall, wide man with a white hoodie and a black leather jacket under a hoodie. She was part of the reason I was here with her back in a city when we were at the age of 19 or less.

It wasn't the kind of glossy place that had a policy about dating rich girls, either for or against. Some call it a gold digger, and I guessed they had looked at her and her minder and made a snap decision against trouble and in favor of tips.

The part of her gaze that wasn't wary was filled with adoration, and it was all aimed in his direction. She was rich. She was alone at a table near the stage and she had a pile of A.T.M fresh twenties in front of her and she was paying for each new bottle with one of them and she wasn't asking for change.

She was a waitress and I loved her.

The woman stood up. She butted the lip of her table with her thighs and shuffled out from behind it and headed for the counter in back. I got there first. The sound from the band howled through it. The ladies' room was halfway down. The men's room was all the way at the end. Rocky leaned on the wall and scanned the room. As Rocky watched her walk in and squeeze through the crowd and she sat down on the bar stool, 1 feet away from him.

"Hey, Raoul, look what this kid dragged in. Oh, wait! That is the guy!," but they didn't hear. Too much noise. He caught them by the elbows, one in each hand. They spun around, as if ready to fight, but then they stopped. Fortunately for him, the first two who approached her were quick to heed her dismissal. She wasn't there to mingle with huge ass in leather jackets. She was just there to grab a drink and relax and pretty sure she made that pretty clear when she shot the first couple of idiots down.

The third guy, however, wasn't ready to take no for an answer.

"How about you let me buy you a drink, sweetheart?"

Their sex appeal eyes pried upon their eyes from the television screen above the bar and looked at the newcomer. With his hair greased back and one-size-too-big biker jacket on, the guy looked like prime wife-beater material. Perfect. Just what they needed to interrupt his evening.

"Thanks, but I'm good," she said curtly, gesturing to the beer bottle in front of her.

"That's it? You're gonna chug that shitty beer and call it a night? Come on, let me get you a real drink."

She scoffed. "What? Like those idiots you got over there?" she glanced past him at the table where he and a couple of his friends had been sitting.

"It's a warm-up. Trust me, honey, we're just getting started over there. You should join us."

She wanted to roll her eyes. "Like I said, I'm good."

She made the move to turn away and focus her attention back on the football game on the television when the guy grabbed her by the arm.

"What the hell's your problem?" This guy gripped her arm tightly, this guy's face practically scrunched up in a beastly snarl. "I don't like to be ignored, y'know?"

She yanked her arm out of his grip and stood up to face him directly. She knew pretty damn well where the conversation was headed and sure as hell were not about to get in a bar fight with their ass glued to the seat.

Before she could open her mouth, a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

By hearing it and raising their head to turn to his voice, her smile grew a tad wider, recognizing the voice immediately. They simply looked so annoyed, at least much more than usual. His lips pulled into a tight frown, while their eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, back hunched over slightly if you'd look hard enough. Yep, those guys are just being grumpy as usual, but seemingly much more grumpy, except with their eyes laced with the slightest bit of concern. For herself, most likely.

The said person stopped, and looked over their shoulder to the voice. She put on a mellow look close to her usual one. Confrontation- unnecessary confrontation- was not exactly his thing. He tended to avoid fights like these. He could hold his ground better than most, but he preferred to keep out of the brawls and spats that others got involved in.

A voice caught his ear, she sounded like she needed help, despite the overconfident tone the stranger used. "Look, I don't wanna interrupt, but is this guy bothering you?" he looks up at her and says greeted casually, as casual as someone could be hanging for dear life. She looked up at me, startled that he was there. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you up?" he softly asked, when she turned to get a good look at the stranger in his handsome voice. She wasn't expecting the sight she was met with. A pair of piercing blue eyes smiled over her, puffing out her cheeks childishly when she looked at him. After she looked to her right to find Rocky taking his place beside her. Her pinkish lips turned up in a small smile as she ducked her head briefly with a laugh before tucking her hair behind her ear, "No, you did not," she said. He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. She turned her head to look at him, catching his gaze with her own. He gave a small smile, stroking her hair softly with his index. "So, What exactly are you doing here?" she said softly, trying to maintain an even tone of voice.

"Oh you know, I was just passing through the neighborhood when I thought I caught a whiff of filthy human garbage coming from this place," he said,

"And sure enough here I am."

Desire pools dark and deadly in his groin. Gaze up at her, releasing her lip. Katy flush a deep crimson in her cheeks, and he runs his index finger down her cheek before handing her the headphones. "I'd like to kiss you, too, but you won't let me down, are you?." Rocky asked her. Besides, he's pulled the straps so tight he can barely move.

Amused smile on his lips, he's wearing his enigmatic half smile. He glances down at her, light blue-gray eyes alive, he glances up when she looks at his way and their eyes lock. And in that brief moment, she was paralyzed, staring at the impossibly handsome man who gazes at her with some unfathomable emotion. His gaze hot, burning into her, as they lost for a moment staring at each other.

It's there in the air between them, that electricity. It's palpable. He can almost taste it, pulsing between them, drawing them together.

"Oh my," she gasps as she basks briefly in the intensity of this visceral, primal attraction. The two men stood back, saying nothing, but looking at him with hard eyes.

Katy had, somehow, stammered out some sort of reply that must have made her look insane. Coby, hearing her, had come over to check on her and had ended up having her go make Rocky's a drink while they chatted. Ever since that first meeting, though, Katy had completely fallen for Rocky. There was something about his smile, or maybe it was his eyes? Whatever it was, it made Katy's entire body feel light as a feather.

To be continued....

#myoc #fanfic #writters on tumblr #wattpad #my fanfiction #origial character #writting #TVD #tvd x reader #tvd universe #tvd rp #tvdfamily #vampire diaries #stories #novel #wattpad writer #Rocky X OC #comedy #original story #story #story time #story telling

[scullyy]

Birthday Boy

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: It's AJs' birthday! The kids have gathered around for another rockin' hootenanny!

A/N: brUH I’ve been working on this for agesssss and it’s finally dooooneeeeee ~~and it’s still not my best but I TRIED and perfection doesn’t eXIST-~~ it’s a VERY belated birthday gift for @bluebutterfly1 cause she’s been wanting this foREVER. SHE'S AMAZING OKAY-

so yeah this is based off a deleted scene from TFS where it was AJ’s birthday and what not anyways ily and enjoy x

-

It was hard being a kid sometimes, not having the words to describe how you're feeling, not even knowing what it is you are feeling was also a bummer. AJ had hoped he would know when he got older, especially by Clem's age. He would know so many more words and feelings and extra stuff about the world. He had already learned so much just from Aasims' teachings.

But Aasim hadn't taught him why everyone was giving him strange looks this one particular winter morning.

Clem was the first, she wasn't as good of a liar as she thought she was. There was this...odd smile on her face. AJ recognised it as the same smile Louis makes whenever he tries to get out of trouble. Ruby, Violet and Aasim had immediately zoomed off into the school once breakfast was done, only running out to share little whispers with Clementine. Omar was cooking something in his special big pot, more focused than AJ had ever seen, but he refused to tell the kid what it was.

He hadn't even seen Louis! Not even during breakfast! The only other person outside was Willy, still stationed at the watchtower. AJ's curious mind and talkative nature tried to squeeze as much info out of the young boy, but he was able to keep his mouth shut for once.

It all led him to sit beside Clementine in an unusual silence for the two, one that didn't sneak past her. Nothing AJ did - or in this case, didn't - could slip by her radar. "Why the long face kiddo?" Clem bumped her elbow into his shoulder, attempting to steal his attention.

AJ picked at a speck of dry skin on his hand, sporting a very obvious pout. "Did I do something wrong?"

That caught her off guard. Her leg trembled from both the cold and her deeply-bundled nerves. Keeping a secret, especially one she knew AJ was going to love, was tougher than she thought. "What makes you think that?" Her eyes moved rapidly from AJ and the school doors, keeping her crossed fingers hidden beneath her thigh. The other kids better be done soon...

"No one is talking to me. Like when I shot Marlon and everyone got mad at me. I didn't like that and I don't like this." He kicked at the air, his little legs still too short to touch the ground.

"I'm sure everything is fine-"

As her hand reached out to hold him, he pulled himself away, jumping straight to his feet. "Don't say that! I know you're lying!"

His desperation near broke her heart. She could never say no to his cute face, damn him. Heaving a sigh of defeat, she gave in. "Okay fine, follow me." The other kids would surely be pissed at her for letting on too early, but she would rather that than an upset AJ.

And boy did that remove the frown from his face. He bounded around her as she got her crutches in order, kicking up sparkling snow behind him. "Where are we going?"

"The music room-"

The young boy had bolted off before she could finish, reminding her of another young boy she used to know when this all started. "Slow down, kiddo! You're not the one on crutches!"

His eagerness outweighed Clem's command, which was usually his law. He could hear muted talking from within Louis' music room, a few giggles here and there too. He crept closer to the door, utilising his amazing ninja skills. His tiny hand gripped the tinier doorknob, opening the door just a crack to find...huh?

The doorknob was set free from his hand, which had now fallen loosely by his side as he took one quiet step into the room. "What's this?" AJ disturbed the other kids, finding them in compromising positions. Louis was on his very tip-toes, tying some blue tinsel around the fireplace, Aasim and Ruby were lighting the last of the candles as Violet was gently moving the gramophone back into it's original place.

It was a real life record scratch moment.

"Oh shit," Louis broke the silence first, drawing everyone's line of sight to the intruder. He chucked the last of the tinsel up onto the mantle in a careless manner before throwing his hands into the air. "Happy birthday AJ!"

The other kids all dropped what they were doing, raising their hands in line with Louis. "Happy birthday!"

Said child stood there with his mouth hung wide open, taking in the sight. "What?" It was the only word racing through his mind.

Louis kneeled down to his level, sporting one of the biggest smiles AJ had ever seen. "It's your birthday little dude, gotta celebrate it big time."

"My...birthday?" Whatwhatwhatwhatwhat-

Willy tugged on the thick tinsel that ran from the fireplace to Louis' piano. "We managed to scrounge up some decorations from the drama class."

"And we re-used the banner from the party back when these guys got kidnapped." Ruby pointed to the banner above the doorway. The original message 'We're getting them back' had been scribbled out and somehow replaced with 'Happy birthday Alvin Junior'.

AJ spun around, his eyes bouncing between all the bright decor; the flickering candles, the weird fuzzy stuff on the piano, it was all so new. "You did this..for me?"

A slightly puffed Clementine finally made her way into the room, smiling with pure glee at how well her friends decorated the space. She stood beside her boy, trying to decipher what he was feeling. "What do you think AJ?"

"It's awesome!" He threw his hands up into the air.

Louis looked between his friends, all of them sharing evil little smiles. "So, who wants to go first?"

"First in what?" AJ questioned, nearly vibrating at wondering what else they could have planned.

Clementine gently nudged him forward with her crutch, pushing him into the centre of the room. "Gift-giving."

"Gifts?" He continued to question. So much new knowledge in such a short span of time.

Louis dead-panned, merely wanting the festivities to begin. "If you keep asking questions we're going to be here all day. Of course, we got you gifts! It's a thing you give someone to show appreciation or celebrate, and today little dude we're celebrating you."

"I'll go first since my gift is the coolest," Violet was guided over to AJ by Ruby, her smile never wavering. From behind her back she presented a roll up parchment, the corners slightly ripped.

AJ pulled it open and blinked rapidly, taking in the faded faces and text. "Green Day? What's that mean?"

"They were a really cool band, before everything happened," Violet nodded to the outside world. "I figured you could hang it up in your room. If I ever find one of their records, you'll be the first to listen, little man." Slowly guiding her hand to the curve of his shoulder, she gave him a gentle punch.

AJ was still hung up on why a day would be green but appreciated the thought from Violet nonetheless. "They look cool...but what's on their eyes?"

Green Day was a rare source of joy from Violet's sordid childhood, a fleating sense of nostalgia washed over her as she came to realise it'll do the same for him.

Ruby skipped closer to AJ once Violet took a seat on the piano stool, thankful that she got to go next. "I figured since you've become an A+ gardener, you could have this little guy," She brandished from behind her back a small pot, with an even smaller plant inside. "If you take good care of it, he'll grow big and strong."

"Just like me!" AJ was near bursting at the seams; the flower was rather dainty, small and barely purple, yet ready to flourish.

She gently pinched his cheek, gushing openly. "Just like you," Ruby bounced away on her feet, feeling another sense of pride at impressing the tot. She patted Aasim on the back, which turned more into a push when he didn't catch onto her actions. "C'mon, it's your turn now!"

Aasim shuffled over, not bothering to hide his gift. He cleared his throat before passing it to AJ. "Here dude," In his grasp laid a tightly bound book, his name carved into the leather cover. His precious journal that he guarded so dearly the night they first met.

AJ took it gently, treating the book as if it were made of glass. "But it's yours?" He questioned, remembering their first encounter. How times had changed.

Aasim shrugged, unsure of what to say. Dammit, he had this all planned out beforehand! "It's ours. Think of it as 'Ericson's History Volume One', you can finish it off if you like."

"This is cool, I hope I can write as good as you." AJ was so captured by his friend's neat handwriting, he didn't notice Aasims' sincere smile.

"My turn!" Willy yelled, pushing Aasim out of the way in the process. His gift was the only wrapped one, albeit it was wrapped in old textbook pages. A tear in the paper revealed a small piece of wood shining through. "It's a slingshot! Mitch and I used to hit walkers with them all day, now we can!"

AJ hadn't even finished tearing the paper away, but his heart still soared. "That's cool, I wish Mitch was here." He added quietly.

Willy lowered his head, gently fidgeting with his own fingers. "Me too."

Their friend's passing left a forever space in every room, an unnerving emptiness that will never go away.

"Okay Willy, my turn," Omar butted in, wanting to steer the conversation back to the joy. He handed AJ a wooden spoon with a neat little bow wrapped around the handle. "It's my best spoon. You can use it to help me cook dinner tonight."

Louis whipped his head to Omar, shooting daggers from his eyes. "You never let anyone help!"

Omar kept a strong smile as he turned to his friend, unphased. "No, I don't let you help because unlike you the kid actually listens to instructions."

"I listen, just like to take a more...casual approach to cooking." He shrugged, finding a sudden interest in his shoes.

"If by casual you mean undercooking the fish, then sure."

Louis poked his tongue out at his friend before sauntering over to AJ, ready to present the greatest gift of all fucking time. "I figured it's time for an upgrade, say goodbye to that crusty knife," Louis whipped out a small bar stool from behind him, holding it out in front of the boy.  "I present...Stoolio! Get it? Cause it's a stool."

"Nope!" AJ beamed brighter than Clem had ever seen, despite the joke flying way over his head. Louis just had that effect on people. The stool was heavier than it seemed, as it immediately hit the floor when AJ took ahold of it. The faded wood declaring the weapons' age, AJ traced the deep cracks with his fingers. "I think I'll call it CJ, Chairles Junior, like my name."

"That's a much better name. It's strong like you too. It defeats monsters, protects people and looks super cool." He purred, selling the gift as only the best of the best.

AJ looked between his new weapon and Louis, letting the weight of it settle in his small palms. It was stronger than his little knife, though not as easy to hold as his gun. But if Louis could do it, so could he. "Sounds more like you."

Clementine noticed the hitch in Louis' breath, both their hearts thumping from the young boys' sentiment. Louis could feel his heart slip up into his throat, thumping faster than his breathing could keep up. "Uh, wow, thank you. It's both of us."

If only AJ was aware of how much his statement meant to Louis, how he would hold onto it during his weakest hours. If that kid could believe in him, he must be doing something right.

Louis cleared his throat, choking back a quiet sob as his heart settled back down. "There's one final surprise, from all of us." He hopped over to a box beside the ladder, dragging Omar over with him.

The boys reached into the box and began to lift something of great weight, as they struggled to keep a tight grip. "Just don't ask how we got it." Omar heaved, forgetting just how little muscle he truly had.

From the box emeregd something AJ could only imagine in his wildest daydreams. A...giant...Disco Broccoli!

The tot stood in pure disbelief, his jaw hanging wide open. "Is that-"

"Oh hell yeah it is," Louis sneered, maybe just a little more excited than AJ.

The boys set it down besides the dusty fireplace, with Omar wiping his brow. "You like it?"

AJ wandered closer, getting a better look. It was certainly Disco Broccoli, despite there being a hole in his cartoon hand. He had the cool glasses and everything! But he looked...funny. "What...what is it?"

Louis clasped the tots' shoulder, it was always a fun venture showing him something from the old world. Seeing the wonder in his wide eyes, made the hassle Louis went through to get the damn thing worth it. "It's a pinata, bro! You hit it and stuff is supposed to come out."

Omar tapped the side of the pinata, being greeted by a soft echo. "There's nothing in it, but it's still fun to hit."

"You can use Chairles Junior there." Louis was nearly bouncing at the idea as he handed the stool leg to the birthday boy, ready for the absolute carnage he was about to witness.

AJ gripped his new(ish) weapon tightly, eyeing down the funny looking Disco Broccoli. "Awesome."

Clem watched from the piano as AJ tried to lift the stool above his head, nearly tipping over from its' weight. Her thoughts drifted to a dream she had, Lees' words at the forefront of her thoughts. "Wanting to give him a childhood, but knowing what it takes for him to survive."

"You okay, Clem?" Louis bumped his shoulder with hers, breaking her away from her memories.

Nodding slightly, Clementine hoped he couldn't notice the tears in her eyes. "Yeah, thanks for this. It's amazing."

"No problemo, it's good to see him smile."

Clem continued to watch AJ laughing with his friends, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "He's been doing that a lot since we've arrived here."

Louis continued to gaze at her, despite her not noticing. "You both have."

-

Just as it had always been, Clem and AJ sat side by side together on the steps of the courtyard, appreciating the rare beauty of the sunset. The sky a gallery of purely blue and purple. Clem disrupted the silence first, after having spent a lengthy amount of time remembering Rebecca and Alvin, wondering if they would be proud of their young boy. "Can I admit something?"

AJ curiously turned to her, awaiting with an eager tap in his foot.

"I don't actually know if today is your birthday," She pouted. "I know it's at the start of winter, but that's it. There were no calendars, no way to check the date. I just kinda had to guess every year. I also don't know how old you actually are." If she had to guess, either six or seven. Without access to a calendar, all these years trying to keep track of the fleeting months grew tiresome and redundant. Each day was the same, a date made no difference. Hell, she wasn't even sure of her own age anymore.

"Maybe I'm a thousand years old!" He bounced like the truly giddy child he was.

Clem laughed openly into the chilly air. "Sure thing, Grandpa." She pushed at his shoulder before looking back at the sky, knowing deep within her gut that Alvin and Rebecca were smiling with her.

They remained in a balanced silence for a while, until AJ turned back to her. "I don't think it matters. I get bigger and stronger every day, no matter how old I am I'll always protect us."

Clementine wrapped her arm around him, pulling him in close the same way she always had and the same way she always will. "I know you will, forever," She pressed a firm kiss to the top of his head, smiling into his thick hair. "Wanna know what we're having for dinner?"

"What?"

"Beans with apple slices."

"BEANS!"

#twdg #the walking dead game #the walking dead game season four #twdg clementine #twdg aj #telltales the walking dead #twdgs4 #twdg the final season #twdg fanfiction #twdg headcanons #fanfiction #scullyy

[min-youngis]

Chicken Little

gif not mine

teenagers scare the living shit out of me - Teenagers, My Chemical Romance

~ Pairing : Park Jaehyung × Reader

~ Genre : Fluff, Humo u r ¿

~ Summary/Excerpt : It’s 7 AM, and if all were right in the world, you’d currently be bundled under covers fast asleep. But no. Your boyfriend just has to be an impulsive dumbass (with occasional smartass energy) who wants to see if he can still skateboard, but is too scared of the children that regular the park at a normal time.

Established Relationship

~ Word Count : 1,263

~ Warnings : uh f-is-for-friends-who-do-stuff-together word

~ A/N : i am jae, jae is me, teenagers do be scary. stan talent. stan mcr. stan day6.

i'd love to hear feedback! spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

“Y/N, I can’t. I’m entirely too old for this.”

“You’re 27. That isn’t old.”

“It’s old enough.”

“Park Jaehyung, you can’t drag me out of bed at ass o'clock for this and tell me that you’re wimping out now.”

“I won’t tell you then.”

With an annoyed huff, you push him forward, before pulling your jacket tighter around your frame and following him into the skate park.

It’s 7 AM, and if all were right in the world, you’d currently be bundled under covers fast asleep. But no. Your boyfriend just has to be an impulsive dumbass (with occasional smartass energy) who wants to see if he can still skateboard, but is too scared of the children that regular the park at a normal time.

However, it turns out that the skate park attracts a fair number of kids even at ungodly hours like this and the two of you walk past a few on the handrails, Jae tugging at your hand every time he makes eye contact with one of them.

You giggle out, “Why are you even looking at them?” thoroughly amused as he pulls you closer.

“Because they’re looking at us.”

It’s true, you have to admit. They probably don’t see many people above the age of 20 at most around here, and you can feel some stares in your direction. You’re not too concerned, though. Jae's the one with the skateboard, about to use it for the first time in six years.

(Honestly, you just really want to see him embarrassingly trip in front of some sixteen year olds. You’ve even cleared out your gallery so you can film it.)

The two of you stop in front of a half pipe, which has two kids on either landing, about to go down.

“Well, this is it,” you declare, pulling your hand out of his grip.

Jae turns to you with a pleading expression.

With a cheeky grin, you lean up and whisper in his ear all conspiratorially, “Chicken Little,” before giving him an obnoxious kiss on the cheek.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” you cheer, thoroughly enjoying the dirty look he throws at you behind his back, as he stalks off towards the side of the half pipe, board in his tight grip.

Pulling your phone out, you open the camera and watch with abject glee as he climbs up the steps and flinches as one of the kids does a flip in the air before landing smoothly on the other side next to her friend.

They notice Jae and courteously step away from the edge, waiting patiently for him to begin his run.

If anything, that makes him look more scared.

You’re torn between wanting him to fail and to succeed, as you watch him take a deep breath in, positioning himself on the skateboard and letting it slightly tilt over the ledge, with your phone in hand, video frame focused on him.

Smoothly, he glides down, gaining momentum and climbing back up the other end. He does this a couple of times, getting a feel of the thing after all these years.

How perfectly boring.

The teenagers who are stood on the side appear to agree with your opinion, as they begin to get antsy, one of them eagerly switching their weight from foot to foot, like they want Jae to either do something cool or get off the ramp.

It’s really for his own good that you hoot as he’s about to go back down, and shout, “Do a flip!”

You don’t know how he manages to throw you a middle finger while he’s concentrating on staying balanced, but he does, and you have a good chuckle to yourself, as you watch him go back up the other side.

And do a flip.

An honest to god, complete 360, perfectly executed, like he’s on Street League Skating or something.

The amused smile on your face morphs into one of shock as you watch him grin all satisfied and skate back down, the camera in your hand still recording, but forgotten.

You think he’s going to stop there, but the next time he goes up, he does a bloody invert, his hoodie slightly slipping up as he’s upside down on the ledge.

You’re simultaneously impressed and annoyed, and have half a mind to stop recording, but you have to admit, during this band break, after regularly being subjected to the image of him blearily and messily shoving spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth in the morning after not being able to find his glasses, this is the coolest he’s probably looked.

The crowd of teenagers around slowly increases, some of them occasionally hooting, as Jae slips into performance mode, seeming to take to the rink and the audience like a fish to water.

You can’t stop the reluctant grin from spreading on your own face as you watch him grow more and more comfortable on the board. He ends with one last grind on the coping before slowing down and finally stopping at the bottom, picking up his board and bounding towards you excitedly.

The kids disperse, going back to what they were doing i.e. hanging around and being generally cool, as the kids do these days, and Jae reaches you, wide smile on his face, board swinging in his hand as he rattles off, “Y/N! Did you see that? Did you get it on camera? Holy fuck, I had no idea I still remembered all that.”

You end the video, slipping your phone back into your pocket and lifting your hand up to gently nudge his displaced glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, and yes,” you reply, unable to keep the fondness from seeping into your voice.

“Awesome!” he cheers, as you make your way to the entry of the skate park. It’s more crowded now, with larger groups of kids, and if Jae weren’t so exhilarated, you just know he’d probably think they’re making fun of him for breathing or something.

Twenty minutes later, the two of you are seated across from each other at the corner table of a diner near your apartment, waitress taking down your breakfast orders.

As she leaves with the menus, Jae fixes you with a cocky smirk, leaning back in his chair.

“You didn’t think I’d be able to do it, did you?”

“Lies. I had full confidence in your skateboarding abilities.”

“Sure you did,” he replies with a knowing grin, foot playfully knocking into yours as you avoid his eyes, not wanting to be called out like this.

“Don’t turn around now, but I’m fairly sure the kid at the table there is judging your shoes.”

“Ha. That won’t work on me anymore. I’m cool now. Kids love me,” he retorts, with a nonchalant shrug and an unfazed expression.

All suavity slips right off his manner when another, suspiciously high schooler-looking waiter comes back with your plates and says in a bored drone, “Here’s your food.”

Suddenly, he’s sitting up straight and his eyes are shifting. He says a soft, stuttered ‘Thank you,’ and you do the same, trying and failing to hold in your laughter at Jae's furtive and intimidated demeanour.

“Shut up,” he groans, when the waiter’s gone and you’re freely chuckling around your omelette.

Swallowing your laughter, you look at him, now all long, lazy limbs again, but with a faint blush on his neck, as he busies himself with his own breakfast.

“Hey, Jae.”

“Yeah?”

“Chicken Little,” you snort out.

~

#day6 #ultkpop #kwritersworldnet #thekpopnetwork #jae #park jaehyung #jae park #day6 jae #jae6 #kpop #fluff #kpop imagine #day6 imagine #jae imagine #kpop fluff #day6 fluff #jae fluff #kpop fanfic #day6 fanfic #jae fanfic #kpop scenario #j writes #day6 scenario #jae scenario #jaehyung #jyp #jypnation #zombie #demon #the book of us

[angrylizardjacket]

the band with no name {Douglas Booth} 2

A/N: 1654 words. A bit shorter, but we’re getting into things now. idk how i feel about it, please give me feedback.

[PART 1]

Flop of The Month, your band, has an instagram account with exactly two posts on it, and Douglas feels like both and idiot, and a creepy stalker, for the amount of time he spends flicking through the two photos without actually liking them, for fear of you realising who he was.

Colson, however, seemed to have no such reservations.

“Look, I’m on their story,” Colson’s grinning from ear to ear as the cast and crew break for lunch the Monday after they’d seen your band play, showing Douglas his phone, and your band’s instagram story. It showed their notifications, highlighting how Colson had liked both photos and followed them, and had the caption ‘how’d the rap devil find us?’ and ‘not complaining tho’. 

“Bloody hell,” is all Douglas can bring himself to say, wearing a half-smile as they made their way to the costume department to get changed before lunch. It had been a low effort day, just jeans and t-shirts, but it was always safer to not eat in costume. Hair and makeup could stay and be touched up however.

Your band’s page had begun the day with 217 followers, and ended it with over a thousand. There wasn’t a link to your personal page, and so all he can do is scroll through your Facebook while waiting for Colson to be ready to go.

Y/N: weird question Y/N: also, hi Y/N: but yeh, weird question Y/N: was your friend last night mgk?

Douglas takes a moment to compose his thoughts before typing out his response.

Douglas: hi back Douglas: and yes.

There’s a few minutes of silence, and Douglas can feel his scalp itching beneath his wig, just a little, but he tries to ignore it.

Y/N: cool. Y/N: well it was nice meeting you guys!! Y/N: looking forward to seeing if ur band is real btw Douglas: probably wont be for a while Y/N: im happy to wait Y/N: if u want me there that is Douglas: if we ever actually play a gig, you’ll be the first to know

You send a blushing smiling emoji back, and Douglas finds himself strangely pleased.

“Is that her?” Colson asks, eyes shining as he pulled on his leather jacket; with his wig and makeup, he still absolutely looked the part. Douglas quickly slipped his phone in his pocket, knowing that a faint blush dusted his cheeks despite his best efforts. As he waffled his way through an affirmation, Colson’s smile just grew wider.

“I still don’t understand why you were being so vague; she probably would have jumped you there and then if she knew you were part of the Motley Crue movie, man.”

“Yeah,” Douglas said, his discomfort mounting at the insinuation, “that’s the problem, dude; first of all, I don’t know if she like the band themselves, or just the music, and if she does like the band,” he paused, shrugging a little, quietly embarrassed, “what if she likes them better than me?”

“They’re all married,” Colson says, like it immediately solves everything.

“Man, you know that’s not the issue,” Douglas sighed, but it’s clear he wasn’t done, and Colson just waited, eyebrows raised, “you know, girls who are like... like... how did you say it the other week? When that girl from Instagram was in your DMs every other minute?”

“Clout chasing,” Colson nodded sagely, suddenly understanding all too clearly his co-star’s apparent fears, “well she doesn’t know who you are yet.”

“Exactly,” Douglas exclaimed, glad the craft services tent was finally in view, feeling himself grow hungrier by the moment, “and I think I wanna keep it that way, just for now.”

“Better pray she doesn’t watch Jupiter Ascending,” Colson snorts, just as Douglas punches him in the arm. 

The next day, he messages you first, sends a photo of himself and the rest of the band out of costume, but holding their instruments, all wearing heels to help make it easier to wear them around set. 

Douglas: the band says hi Y/N: shit, you guys have instruments and everything Y/N: getting less sketchy by the minute

You follow it up with a winking emoji, and a photo of yourself, out in the sunshine, dressed impeccably, makeup dark and sharp, holding a stack of posters beside your head, advertising your band’s next gig; this Saturday.

Douglas: are you inviting me? Y/N: only if you’re saying yes

Your confident coyness amuses him, despite the way the shoes are pinching his toes, and he tells you he’ll be there.

The next day, you send a link to a band name generator, but more interestingly, you send it right around the time he’s getting his makeup done, early in the morning.

Douglas: early start? Y/N: my shop won’t open itself Douglas: your shop? Y/N: mini mall tattoo parlor hahaha

“She owns a tattoo parlor?” Daniel asks, reading over Douglas’s shoulder between takes, “you’d better make your move or Colson’s gonna go for her.” 

“Go for who?” Colson himself calls across set where his makeup’s being touched up.

“You weren’t meant to hear that!” Daniel shouts back, though he’s grinning, and adds, “Y/N. She owns a tattoo parlor.”

“Really, shit man, Doug she’s cool as hell,” Colson muses, before snorting, addressing Daniel, “gimme some credit, I’m letting the man shoot his shot; he’s my bro, not my competition.”

“Thanks man,” with the slightest smile, Douglas puts his phone away as the scene is reset around them, and Colson joins him in the middle of the living room set.

“I expect free tattoos, however,” he says with a faux seriousness, “because if you like her, like really like her, I’m gonna wingman the shit out of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, man,” he claps Douglas on the shoulder with a surprisingly sincere expression.

It’s Colson who suggests, the following day, sending a video of Douglas playing the bass, asking if you had any pointers. They’re at band rehearsals again, blasting through their repertoire, when they get to Take Me To The Top, and as the song dies down, Colson makes the suggestion.

“Why are you filming it?” Iwan asks, and Colson’s smile is all teeth where he’s holding Douglas’s phone, answering before Douglas has the opportunity.

“Tryna help impress that punk chick from the band last weekend.”

“You’re actually talking to her?” Iwan asks with a bright, almost incredulous smile, “after everything that happened? She must really like you.” He muses, and Douglas feels his soul leaving this mortal plane.

“Smart move; asking for advice from her, lets her know you think she’s talented, and, well, you know,” Daniel shrugs, wiggling his fingers with a casual air. Douglas frowns, but Colson’s nodding.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” he agrees, and finally Douglas clues in. Dexterous fingers.

“Don’t be gross, guys,” he sighs, already regretting letting Colson help at all, “just take the damn video.”

It only takes thirty seconds for you to respond in All Caps.

Y/N: ARE YOU IN A MOTLEY CRUE COVER BAND

“I’m fucked,” Douglas mutters under his breath, staring wide-eyed at the message.

Y/N: you play so well dude just relax your stance and shoulders Y/N: fkn love take me to the top Y/N: seriously a motley cover band??? Y/N: you just instantly got 100x cooler

“Okay, maybe I’m not fucked,” he concedes after a moment, quietly breathing a sigh of relief.

Y/N: now i have to see u guys play!! Y/N: if that’s alright of course

“Nah, you’re definitely a little bit fucked,” Daniel offers over his shoulder, and Douglas pushes his face away.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Douglas grumbles, and Daniel shrugs bemusedly. 

“At least she thinks you play well,” but Douglas isn’t listening to him, he’s frantically tapping away on his phones, scowling, “what ‘re you doing?”

“Trying to come up with a name for our band -”

“Our fake band?” Iwan asks, arms crossed over his chest wearing an amused little smile, “do we have to play along with this too?”

“Not if you don’t want, just don’t... don’t tell her it’s fake is all.” Douglas offers, and the rest of the band nods.

“So how long are you going to play along with this bit?” Daniel ask, and Douglas heaves a sigh.

“Not sure; until I can trust that she’s not just in it to meet the actual band -”

“Which she doesn’t know you know,” Iwan interjected again, and Douglas nodded a little. After a beat, the rest of the band looked to each other, and seemed to share some sort of silent communication, before turning back to him.

“Okay,” Colson agrees easily, “if you’re serious about this chick you’ve known for five days,” he emphasizes, though Douglas doesn’t seem phased, “if we ever run into her, we’ll pretend we’re in a Motley Crue cover band.” He agrees, while Iwan and Daniel silently agree, though they look rather amused at the whole situation.

“There’s just something about her,” Douglas muses quietly.

“It’s the fact that she’s the coolest chick you’ve ever met,” Colson tells him with far too much authority, “and your little posh, school-boy brain wants to try something new.”

“Hey -” Douglas scoffed, though he was quickly talked over.

“She looks like she’d punch me in the face but I’d be okay with it,” Iwan adds, which, strangely enough, the rest of them agree to with various mischievous smiles. Douglas doesn’t exactly deny that he feels the same way.

“What’s our band name gonna be?” Daniel asks finally.

“The Fourskins,” Colson answers back immediately, grinning wide and proud of himself.

“Absolutely no-”

“That’s kind of genius,” Daniel snorts over Douglas’ protest, and so, on a three-to-one vote, their fake Motley Crue cover band is named The Fourskins, and Douglas kind of thinks he’d rather come clean there and then to you, rather than suffer through ever typing or saying that name to you. But he doesn’t. 

He really hopes you’re worth it.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth x reader #douglas booth imagine #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly #daniel webber #iwan rheon #The Dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the dirt imagine #the angry lizard writes

[theimnotokayprojekt]

The I’m Not Okay Projekt Chapter 2

AO3  Wattpad  Quotev

Mikey moves to walk on the right side of Frank after they leave Mr. McGill’s classroom. “You know, asking questions isn’t a bad thing,” he starts, glancing at Frank. “Finding things out doesn’t make you less than who you are.”

Frank doesn’t respond verbally. He nods and looks down at the pink belt he’s wearing. Pink. Why pink? He shouldn't have forgotten his own belt at home. It wasn’t as though he would get in trouble for it, since it was technically a belt. It was practically screaming “Fag!”.

Frank pulls his arm out of Mikey’s and fumbles open the clasp of the belt, just wanting the flaming neon sign to disappear. He wants it gone. He can’t, he can’t . . .

“Frank? What are you doing?”

It’s Mikey. “Nothing, I’m just taking off my belt. I don’t need it.”

Even with Frank clearly holding the much too large waistband of his pants, Mikey didn’t say anything. He just kept walking at Frank’s side. He unclasps it and practically rips it out of the loops and shoves it deep into his bag before going towards the lunch line. He stands at the end, Mikey next to him, when Gerard appears through the ocean of teenagers.

“Hey can I join you?” he asks.

Frank shuffles to the side. “Yeah, sure.”

Mikey stands slightly on his tip-toes and peers of the sea of students. “Dammit, Gerard. You left Ray alone.” In his mind, it would be more practical for two groups of two people to be apart so everyone had someone and no one was left alone. He wiggles out of the line in the direction of the table Ray sits at awkwardly.

He sits down on Ray’s right, pulling out the little sack of food he kept in his bag.

“Um, hi,” Ray half-laughs, fiddling his thumbs under the table.

Mikey smiles awkwardly. “Hi.”

He opens up the bag and takes out a cheddar cheese sandwich cut in half vertically. Taking the right half, he takes a careful bite and looks back at the lunch line to see if he can find Gerard and Frank. Nothing. Swallowing, he takes a deep breath and prepares to break the silence.

“So, um,” he starts out quietly, “did you understand the whole ‘sexual attraction’ thing?”

Apparently Ray hadn’t been expecting a conversation since his head whips around wildly in search of who Mikey could possibly be talking too. “Oh, uh, not really, if I’m being honest… Is that weird?”

Mikey’s hand finds his inhaler and rubs it three times. “I… I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“It’s probably because I’m young,” he stumbles quickly. “Did- Did you understand it?”

Mikey shakes his head and looks at his hands. “Do you think there- there’s something wrong? With us? With me?” he whispers.

It’s weird since Ray is very particular with physical touch, but he wants to squeeze Mikey in a bear hug. “I- I don’t know… Everyone tells me I should, like, find some girl and fall in love right away. But… I feel like I can’t.” He squishes his mouth to one side of his face and his mind floods with images of pushy uncles and dramatic aunts. It’s not something he realizes he’s doing, but he starts absent-mindedly twisting his skin.

Mikey looks at Ray, trying to send across that he understands, to some extent, but the words won’t come out. He fixes his glasses, mind racing to figure out what to say, what to do. 

“It’s just a weird thought… like, how do people, like, do that?” is all Ray can say, his windpipe feeling like it’s closing up.

“I don’t know,” Mikey says finally. “But, it’s nice to not be confused alone. Y’know?”

Then it’s like he can breathe again. “Yeah.”

A comfortable silence falls between the two, a sense of understanding and connection flowing between them. Mikey slowly eats his sandwich and Ray sits quietly beside him, picking at his nails.

Meanwhile, in the lunch line, Frank and Gerard stand next to each other, waiting to get their spaghetti and pizza respectively.

Frank looks up at Gerard. “So, you and Mikey are twins? Isn’t that, like, super rare or something?”

Gerard does his common comical blinking act. “Um, no. We aren’t twins. I, uh, I was actually held back…” His face flushes red and he tugs at some stray locks of hair, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Frank apologizes quickly. “I didn’t mean, I just thought, sorry. That was stupid of me.” 

Gerard just shakes his head as he waves his hand. “No, no it’s fine. I just, uh, y’know, don’t like to talk about it.”

Frank nods. “I get that.” He glances down at Gerard’s bag, which has a ton of buttons pinned on. “Dude, where’d you get these?”

He follows Frank’s gaze to find his pin-cluttered bag, the original pattern lost under the coat of art. “I made them. Not all of them are super great,” he sighs, unclasping a slightly smudged pin with a jack-o-lantern. “This was one of my first tries. It’s not that good,” he laughs.

Frank looks at the pin with wide eyes. If he was animated, they would probably be sparkling with excitement. “That’s so rad! Y’know, when I’m old enough, I’m gonna get a tattoo like this. ‘Cause I like tattoos and Halloween. I mean, that’s my birthday and all, but like, the jack-o-lanterns are one of the coolest parts. And the costumes.” 

“Whoa, dude, that’s so cool! Like, out of all the days in the year, you got yours on Halloween! The chance of that happening is, like…” he trails off, looking down at his dress shoes.

Frank looks at the pin in Gerard’s hand. “I don’t know, small? Fractions aren’t my strong suit. Do you, um, could you make me one of those?” he points to the pin.

“Oh, you can have this one. I’ll make you more, but I just need to focus on school…”

Frank nods, taking it gently and slipping it into his pocket. He looks forwards, seeing that they made it to the front of the line and takes a plate of spaghetti without any tomato meat sauce, while Gerard takes a slice of pepperoni pizza. “Yeah, makes sense.”

Gerard would absolutely love to unload all of his issues with math and science, but he finds stuffing his face with pizza far more appealing, so he walks beside Frank to the rickety lunch table in the back of the cafeteria. There Mikey and Ray sit, doing absolutely nothing.

“Did you guys talk at all?”

The two share a look and Ray looks over at Gerard with a wide smile. “Yeah, a bit. I still want to see your drawings!”

Gerard looks around at the three of them, all eagerly looking at him. “Uh, okay,” he mumbles. He slips out his large sketchbook and sets it on the table. He’s all of the sudden acutely aware of the entire student body around them. “Could we, uh, look at these outside?”

Ray looks at Frank, who shrugs. “Well, Frank and I sometimes went to this small part of the field right outside of the football stuff. It has a nice tree.”

Mikey easily gathers up his long-finished food and stands up, with Ray following suit. Frank scoops up the sketchbook and leads the way to their old spot. The halls are oddly barren for a high school. Frank and Ray lead the brothers outside a set of double doors to a large grassy field.

In the corner is a large oak tree, where the group heads over to sit in its shade. Frank takes out Gerard’s sketchbook and eagerly awaits to see the contents. He quickly peels it open and is met with sloppy sketches and mysterious food stains.

They’re quite good if Frank can even think that, seeing as he can draw just about a stick figure and that’s it. The lines aren’t uniform, but it somehow adds to the charm. Harsh shadows and angled features somehow give it a more authentic feel, rather than rounded out cartoons. Little bits of information about clothing or the characters’ bodies are in a messy scrawl near the spot it’s referring to.

He flips through a few of the pages to find most of them are like that; half thought-out characters with random, on-the-spot backstories.

Ray peers at the scrawled and scribbled on pages. “Gerard, this is so good!” He turns to Gerard, who is smiling bashfully.

“It’s really nothing-” he’s cut off by a look given by Mikey over his glasses. When Gerard has stopped, Mikey grins, showing his teeth, and looks back at the page.

Frank, being the one in charge of maneuvering through the book, turns the page and is met by a full-body sketch of two men dancing closely against one another, looking as though they’re leaning in for a kiss. He looks at every line with more interest than he should. Why can’t he look away? Why is he so interested in this one drawing? It’s not like he can . . . envision himself like that. No, he’s not gay.

Everyone stares at the drawing. The air surrounding the four is still and quiet, yet somehow charged and vibrating. No one dares look away, if out of fear of seeing someone or making eye contact, it’s unsure.

Then, as the tension becomes too much, Gerard snatches the book out of Frank’s loosened grip. “That- That was just…”

“Hey, Gerard, it’s fine,” Ray quickly assures, waving his hands.

Before the silence can stretch on, there’s the sound of someone walking up to them from the left. They turn and see Samantha walking up to the group. She stops as soon as she realizes four people are looking at her in surprise.

“Hey, Mikey.” She waves with a grin as she sees the bespectacled boy.

Mikey waves back, though less cheerily. “Hi.”

“Why did you say hi to Mikey and not me and Ray? We’re in your chemistry class!” Frank whines, flopping back on the grass.

Gerard looks at Samantha and then the three others next to him. “Who is she?” he asks Mikey. “How do you know each other?”

“Advanced English,” Mikey states simply.

Samantha doesn’t seem to notice the lingering stare the two brothers share as they silently communicate since she clears her throat. “Um, I just wanted to tell you I think the music room is free this period. I think they have a bass… an electric bass,” she clarifies at Mikey’s unamused expression.

Mikey’s head whips around to look at Samantha with wide eyes. “Really?! You’re not joking?!”

“I think it’s for the band, but they keep the instruments in there.” She shrugs, acting as though it isn’t a big deal, despite Mikey thinking it is.

“Oh, that’s so grea- gr- that’s so awesome!”

“We could go now if you want,” she suggests nonchalantly.

“Are there guitars?” Ray finds the courage to ask.

Samantha glances over at Ray like she hadn’t realized he was there. “Oh, um, I think so.”

Ray beams at her, unaware of her shifty gaze. Like Ray, Frank smiles up at her too. “Let’s go!”

She stiffly nods and holds a hand out for Mikey to take, but he ignores it and stands up on his own, not using his hands at all. Gerard follows suit, then Frank and Ray. Samantha leads them through the barren halls and up a couple of flights of stairs, considerably slower for Mikey’s sake until they reach the music room.

Mikey rushes to the front of the group and opens the door, scanning the room until he spots the electric bass in the corner. He beelines for it, hands hovering over it as if it were a holy relic. Ray busies himself with turning on the amp as Mikey delicately slings the bass across his chest, feeling the familiar weight of it. His fingers slide across the metal strings, and he closes his eyes and puts his hands in place. 

He starts to strum a simple bass line, feeling the vibrations of the bass and strings with his hands, the sound ring through his chest. His palms buzzed with a comfortable life pulsing through that reaches all the way down to his feet.

A teacher looks up from their desk, eyes magnified by their thick glasses. “Samantha, who are these people?”

Samantha looks over to the music teacher, tearing her gaze away from Mikey. “They’re my friends, Mx. Kloppenburg. I think two of them can play an instrument so I brought them here.”

They look over Mikey, completely lost in his own world, and nods approvingly. “I can see that.”

While Samantha and the teacher are chatting about her violin playing and Frank ogles over a shiny red electric guitar, Gerard looks over at ray. He finds Ray already looking at him. “Mx.?” Gerard mouths in confusion. 

Ray furrows his brow and shrugs slightly in response. “No idea.”

“Ray?” Frank pipes up. “Do you think you could teach me to play T.V. Party?

Ray looks at his friend. “Dude, of course!” He smiles widely.

“I wanna see you play first. I thought the guitar in your house was your dad’s, so I didn’t think you played.”

Ray shifts a little. “It, uh, was my sister’s.” Before Frank can respond he starts to play some riffs.

His fingers slither up and down the neck, while his other hand is strumming a simple pattern, but the array of chords make it sound much more complicated than he makes it. Frank watches in awe at the skill Ray shows.

“D’you think that I could do that? With enough practice?” Frank asks, and Ray nods, but otherwise continues to focus on his playing.

During this, Samantha had wandered back over to Mikey. Having overheard Frank and Ray, she looks at Mikey. “Could you help me get better at bass?” she asks.

Mikey doesn’t respond. He starts to play a riff, caught up in the feeling of finally having a bass in his hands again. Ray, hearing Mikey play, starts to play over top of the bass line. The strings blur on Ray’s guitar while Mikey’s hands slide up and down the neck like it’s covered in grease.

At the notice of a new addition, Mikey breaks out of his bubble and beams at Ray, who’s smiling like a wild man right back at him. The more they play, the more in sync they get. Frank, Samantha, and Gerard watch the pair play, listening only to the other’s instrument.

Samantha shifts around slightly. “So, Mikey, where did you learn to play?” she asks, but Mikey doesn’t seem to register that someone is speaking to him.

Right then, Ray’s hand slides up to the top of the neck, letting one long booming note ring out. Mikey looks over with an approving beam and proceeds to give the solo of his life. It’s full of energy, unlike Mikey himself. He puts all of his strength and heart into it. His hands move up and down the strings like fire, low notes filling the room, and thrumming through his body. As he finishes and the adrenaline of playing starts to wear off, Mikey hears Ray start to play a solo of his own.

It’s a sight that makes him feel like he’s intruding on something, but at the same time can’t bring himself to look away. Ray’s thumb strums at an impeccable pace, making it look effortless after years of practice. His eyes flutter shut at some point, getting lost in the feel and the rhythm. He’s on his own, locked away in his own mind, ignoring the world around him. Both hands are moving at an incredible speed, it’s as graceful a ballerina, but just as wild as a raging hurricane.

Ray’s hair brushes around his neck and shoulders with each brash head turn. The part of his lips grows wider as he exerts more energy. He grows increasingly powerful like it’s the guitar that gives him his life source. Mikey watches as his fingers fly across the frets, his hair flies about, the way his eyes are closed the entire time. Mikey wishes he could see more. He wants to listen to Ray playing his guitar all the time.

“Hey, lunch is finishing soon. We should stop and pack up,” Samantha interrupts, causing Ray to suddenly stop his playing. Mikey barely holds back the sudden need to snarl at her.

“Yeah, sure,” Ray says with a soft smile, adjusting back to the room. He sets the guitar delicately back onto the stand like it’s a priceless gem. Mikey takes the bass back to its respective stand and gently puts it back, longing to have played longer.

Once everything remotely expensive is out of harm’s way, Frank jumps onto Ray, causing him to stumble back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were that good!? You should play guitar, like, all the time!”

It’s clear Ray wasn’t expecting any compliments, so he just awkwardly laughs. “Um, I didn’t think it was anything special.”

“But, you guys did that on the spot. That’s pretty awesome,” Gerard admits, half smiling at Mikey. Mikey blinks back, wondering why Gerard is looking at him.

“You were great Mikey!” Samantha says, closer to Mikey than he remembers.

“Uh, thank you,” he mumbles, stepping away slightly. “Ray, you, um, you were really, uh, good,” he stutters, avoiding looking at Ray all together.

“Thanks,” Ray responds quietly as he finishes packing his backpack.

“Before you go,” a voice pipes up, it’s Mx. Kloppenburg, risen from their chair. “The staff and I are going to be planning the talent show to be sometime in December. I think you two could get in if you tried out.”

Mikey shakes his head, holding his glasses with the tips of his fingers. “No, I- I can’t p- per… play in front of everyone. Sorry.”

Mx. Kloppenburg smiles. “No, it’s fine,” they assure before turning to Ray. “Would you be interested?”

“Maybe…” Ray admits, raking his bitten nails up and down the arm of his blazer.

Mx. Kloppenburg nods. “Well, if you ever want to practice, the music room is open at lunch and before and after school. You can use the guitars here too if you need them,” they assure. 

Ray is about to assure them he won’t be needing any guitars since he has an acoustic at his home when Frank takes the opportunity instead. “Can you play?”

They smile sweetly at him and laugh. “Yeah, I had to learn a bit of everything in college.”

“Could you teach me then?!” Frank practically yells.

Mx. Kloppenburg flips through a few sheets on their desk before looking back at him. “Are you in my music class?”

“Um, no, I, um… I’m taking language and computer science,” he mumbles.

“What’s your name?”

“Frank. Uh, Frank Iero.”

“Well, if you’re free on Tuesdays after school, I could fit you in for about half an hour,” they say, sifting through more papers cluttered on the desk.

Frank nods. “Um, yeah, that should, uh, that should work.” He’s clearly more nervous than before, but no one says anything about it.

“Alright.” Mx. Kloppenburg looks at Frank. “See you Tuesday,” they confirm with a smile. The bell rings signaling the end of lunch.

“Where are you guys headed?” Frank asks as they all leave the classroom.

“Math,” Mikey deadpans and he walks to the staircase of death.

“Oh, I’m headed downstairs too. Biology.” Samantha smiles.

“So am I!” Frank bounces over to Mikey. Samantha follows them down the staircase and Ray and Gerard are left alone.

Ray looks over at Gerard with his lip squished to one side of his face, realizing he’s never been alone with him before. “Where are you going?”

Gerard thinks for a moment. “Cooking, I think. You?”

“Oh.” Ray blinks. “So am I.”

Gerard nods. “Cool, cool. So, uh, should we walk there?”

“Sure…” is all he can come up with.

The two walk side by side through the halls in search of the classroom in relative silence, just absorbing one another’s presence.

#the im not okay projekt #tinop

[dustysalmon]

2, 7, 12, 18, annnnnd 24!! <3333

Preeeeem, here we go!

2. Which car (or cars) is your favorite (even if it’s not one of the purchasable ones)?

I really love the Chevillon Jefferson for some reason, especially the Maelstrom custom ones. They’re not really fast, kinda heavy, but they’re the ones I have the least accidents with so 😂. Other than that I’ll go with Jackie’s bike to go fast.

V definitely goes for the Rayfield Caliburn. My girl LOVES speed!

7. If offered enough money/power, would you be willing to join the corpo lifestyle? if you’re former corpo, would you go back?

I’m not sure if this is an unpopular opinion or not but I love the corpo world in the game. Not in the way that it is good, but it is so interesting. I personally think we could have seen more of it in the game, especially through the character of Meredith Stout, but oh well...

V started as Corpo, she is not going back anytime soon. She’s seen too much shit, and the pettiness of it all just makes her wanna puke. She will agree though that it can make you a lot of eddies.

12. Does the rocker lifestyle (either as a rocker or somewhere behind the scenes) sound appealing to you?

Don’t laugh, I’m actually in a rock band lmaoo. But the real “sex, drugs, and rock n’roll” thing doesn’t really appeal to me. I’m a calm and reserved rocker! 

V wouldn’t mind being a roadie. The idea of her as a sound engineer or as a guitar tech sounds pretty cool and fitting!

18. What’s your dream cyberware (either something that was shown in lore that wasn’t available in game or a mental creation of your own)?

It would be so cool to have a device that allows us to climb very high walls. It would look like full cyber hands and we would probably need some specific shoes/soles for it to work perfectly. Yeah, I basically said make my V Spider-woman.

V is very happy with what she has. She doesn’t want to turn her body into a machine. She even hesitated to get the Mantis blades. She absolutely loves them, but that’s as far as she’ll go.

24. Do you have any big adventures you want to live out? (aka what do you want to see from future DLC)

OBVIOUSLY I’m gonna say romance DLCs because come on! (Viktor and Takemura at the top of the list of course). I don’t have any precise ideas but anything taking place within the Corpo business would be so interesting to me. Maybe also a big investigation case, like the River side quest. It was really good, and disturbing, but I enjoyed playing it very much.

After all the shenanigans, V wants things that are not too crazy or dangerous. As a Watson girl, she is pretty familiar with the Maelstrom gang and enjoys being around them (they have the coolest night club tbh). She would like a DLC where she can hang out with them and do stupid things around the city (which sounds both crazy and dangerous but hey, this is Night City!)

Thank you so much for the asks @maeveelemora 💚!

#cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #ask #dusty talks

[you-andthebottlemen]

61 - Glasgow song fic

Hi everyone!! I know the catfish fic scene here is kind of dead but this is for those of you still out there. A short but sweet fic for a short but sweet song! I hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading (and waiting for me to finally post and fill this request!!) E x 

Based on the requests:

could you maybe do a fan fictions based around the song Glasgow? I love your writing! x

from @smotherme-inlippy

+

Cheating on your boyfriend with Van?

for anonymous.

(Fun fact: I’ve actually been to Sauchiehall Street and went there for a night out! And I totally didn’t imagine that I was going all the same places Van had been....)

************************************************************************

You knew you shouldn’t be seeing Van, but you just couldn’t help yourself. There had always been something so magnetic about him. You’d slept together a few times and had a bit of a reputation as a pair. Though despite your nights together, there were never any real feelings. Maybe that’s what drew you to him the most? You could be yourself and not be burdened by the responsibilities, expectations and everything else ‘being in love’ entailed. You could go months without seeing him or talking but always have things fall right back into place. There was no stress or drama or pressure with him like there was with everyone else. You needed fun and chaos and there was no one better for that than Van McCann. 

“What time do ya’ call this, y/n?!” Van joked as you slid onto the stool beside him, his face lit up with happiness.

His hair was longer than when you last saw him. The ends flicked up under his ears as if they were desperate to grow into a proper curl.

“Fashionably late,” you winked. 

Van just chuckled and ordered you a drink as he had already started.

The bar was lively as always, packed with every type of person you could imagine. It was dimly lit with the walls covered in posters and neon signs, old rock music pulsating all around you. It was your favourite bar on all of Sauchiehall Street. And you’d tried them all to be sure. You loved when Van was touring in Scotland or just had time off to come see you and traipse your way down the strip of bars. 

Just as you placed your phone and bag down on the table, a text flashed from Alex; your boyfriend. Kind of boyfriend. It wasn’t something serious with him, but serious enough that you knew you shouldn’t be drinking alone with Van. Though one glance up into his blue eyes swimming with excitement, was all you needed and you put your phone away. You didn’t want to think about Alex tonight, his clinginess suffocated you and his sickly sweetness turned you off.

You and Van caught up on life since you’d last seen each other. He told you about the band and what countries they’d visited as well as all plans for the next album; the usual. As much as you wanted to make fun of him for always going on about Catfish, you just couldn’t bring yourself to. You loved how proud he was of it all. 

He asked about you too, so you told him about Alex. Van’s expression remained the same, so you weren’t able to tell if he was disappointed or relieved that you were seeing someone. You also weren’t sure you should have brought it up. 

“Have you been seeing anyone?” you asked Van curiously.

“There was one girl for a little while…but it didn’t work and I didn’t really try to be honest. So, no. Single as a flamingo,” he replied, trying hard to rhyme the last part and looking far too pleased with himself. 

“What? Single as a…flamingo?” you laughed, raising one eyebrow. 

“Somethin’ Bond said,” Van shrugged and you shook your head in amusement.

Soon the conversation fell on how Alex was endlessly worried about Van; to the point he would scroll through your phone while you were in the shower trying to find evidence of betrayal. It bothered him how people would always ask you where Van was, how close you looked in photos or how all your best stories featured Van somewhere in the plot. It was toxic and you knew it, but you didn’t have the energy to fight or leave; Alex was just something to fill the time and fill the space in your bed. He was alright and it wasn’t like you were in love with him anyway. 

“You gotta break up with him y/n, can’t be with someone who don’t trust ya.”

Not letting slip that you hadn’t told Alex you were here and that he had every reason not to trust you, you just groaned and gulped down your second drink. 

“Let’s get shots!” you decided, breaking the awkward silence. 

You and Van counted down each time you took a shot, always laughing at each other’s twisted facial expressions from the taste of the liquor and the inevitable throat burn. Van’s proper smile, the one he always tried to hide, all wonky teeth and smile lines made you smile even wider. 

“I’m glad that you’re home,” you admitted. 

You forgot for a moment that this wasn’t Van’s home, but that’s not really what you meant anyway. You meant you were glad he was back here with you. 

“Getting’ sappy are we y/n?” he teased. 

You play elbowed him then with a laugh, Van stood and held his hand out to you. 

“Wanna dance?”

You grinned and nodded then let him twirl you over to the makeshift dancefloor. Standing upright made you realise just how drunk you were. The room was spinning, time was moving fast yet slow and you were convinced it was only you and Van left in the whole wide world and that was completely okay with you. 

The music wasn’t the best rhythm for dancing to but that didn’t stop you. Van wiggled his hips out of beat and waved his arms around, making you giggle and try to move along with his timing. Soon your hands found the front of his soft velvet jacket. You ran your fingers over the fabric and pulled gently. Van’s hands moved to your waist and you shut your eyes.

It felt like when you opened your eyes again, you were sat back on the bar stool beside Van, singing a loud and drunken duet to no one in particular. You couldn’t remember where time had gone or what had happened in between the dancing and now. A sign of too much alcohol, though you didn’t stop to worry. 

You stopped singing and glanced over at Van who was belting out words and had his arms lifted up into the air. You burst out laughing, realising that the bar was in fact empty except for the few staff members cleaning up. They’d locked up but let you stay, probably thoroughly entertained. This was not the first time it had happened either and you had a suspicion that they must have known who Van was. 

Once you had downed some water, said your thanks and goodbyes, you pulled Van out the door and into the night down Sauchiehall Street. He draped his jacket over you and slung an arm around your shoulders. You wriggled your arms into the jacket, grateful for the warmth and shoved your hands into the pockets, shielding them from the cold. 

The usually loud and bustling street filled with clubs and bars and takeaway shops was now eerily quiet. Quiet except for Van’s slurred singing and the clacks of your shoes on the concrete. 

You stopped walking and took off your heels with a small yelp as your bare feet touched the cold ground. 

“Here…” Van mumbled and picked you up bridal style with a bit of a groan. 

“Getting old,” you teased and clung to his neck, your shoes in your hand hanging over his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna be the coolest old man,” Van smiled, unafraid of ageing like most people you knew. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Gonna do music til I’m well old like my Grandad and all my grandkids are gonna be dead excited to come visit me all the time,” he replied, looking out into the night.

You laughed to yourself and rested your head against him. 

Halfway up Sauchiehall Street, you told Van to put you down and have a break. He leant against a wall and had a smoke while you talked to him about anything and everything. You sat down cross legged on the pavement with your back against the bricks by his feet. When Van was finished smoking, he collapsed down beside you looking a little cold and worse for wear. You tried to give him back his jacket but he wouldn’t take it. Instead, he folded over and rested his head in your lap. You stroked his hair and kept talking. 

“I love this,” you said, referring to your drunken nights with Van talking shit and being ridiculous.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with Glasgow,” Van replied dreamily. 

Though what he really meant was that he’d fallen in love with you.

“Why?” you asked, naïve or rather willingly oblivious, to Van’s hidden admission. 

“It’s beautiful and it���s fun and nowhere else is as good. I keep looking for better and I can’t find it.”

“But you’ve been all over the world?”

“Exactly.”

After a long silence, Van tried to sit up, his head clearly spinning. You took some of his weight and propped him up straight against the wall. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. 

“Y/n…” he said with a strange tone that made your heart lurch, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Van’s eyes met yours. 

“No, you’re not Van,” you sighed.

“I am y/n. I can’t get you out of my head, you’re all I think about,” he pushed, reaching out to take your hands. 

You folded your arms to your chest.

“Don’t say that Van, don’t ruin this.”

“What? Ruin what?”

“Everything! Our friendship, our fun…we can hang out and forget everything else and just be us. I don’t want it to become complicated and weird,” you tried to explain, a little exasperated. 

“It won’t ruin things,” Van replied. 

You shut your eyes and groaned, pissed off. Why did he have to do this? You didn’t know what to say so you stood, put your shoes back on and took off Van’s jacket then threw it in his lap. He looked a little taken aback but said nothing.

“Let’s just go home. I’m too drunk to talk about this.”

You didn’t want to hurt him any more than you probably had, and you didn’t want to have a conversation that required thought when you were likely to not remember it tomorrow. You weren’t in love with Van. Part of you wished you were just to be able to make him feel better. Another part wished it because you knew you’d never find a better man. But you couldn’t make yourself feel it and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

Van walked by your side all the way back to your little house, both of you silent except for the sounds of Van’s lighter and deep breaths puffing on another cigarette.

By the time you arrived home, your frustration at Van had disappeared. You opened the gate careful not to make too much noise and unlocked the door just as quietly. Before you could step inside, Van reached out and stopped you. 

“I’m sorry y/n,” Van said quietly. 

“You don’t need to be sorry Van. I’m just…I guess I’m sorry too. I wish I could feel what you want me to.”

Van shook his head and pulled you into him. He held you tight and rocked side to side. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I know what we have together, and I should have thought about it. Guess I was just really drunk.”

What Van said didn’t really sit right with you, though you decided to keep your mouth shut. 

When you pulled away from Van’s grip, you looked into his face. Maybe it was the alcohol still floating around in your system, maybe it wasn’t, but you thought he looked kind of beautiful. For a moment, you were both still and just staring at one another. You knew then exactly how this was going to go. 

Van’s lips crashed into yours with force and you melted under his touch. You let him scoop you up in his arms once again and carry you through the front door, kicking it shut behind him. 

Once in the bedroom he placed you down and you threw off your shoes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him. 

“I shouldn’t do this,” Van breathed into your neck.

You knew that Van, while being one for fun and promiscuity, wasn’t a homewrecker and still had strong morals. He was probably thinking about Alex, or the feelings he had for you, knowing that both of those would only cause you both more pain when the sun came up. You pushed those thoughts out of your mind too; you would work all that out tomorrow.

You kissed him again, showing him that you didn’t mind, that you wanted him. You could feel how much he wanted you too. 

His hands reached under your top and pulled it off over your head. You undid his belt and trousers. Each action exciting you more until there was nothing left to take off. Van stopped for a moment and brushed some hair out of your face. 

“You have me wrapped right round your finger, don’t you?” he chuckled, his voice breathy and rasping.

You weren’t sure what to respond with so began to kiss his neck. You ran your hands up and down his body and all thoughts of anything except the here and now, escaped your mind. 

#catfish #catb #Catfish and the Bottlemen #van mccann #van #vanfic #van mccann fan fiction #van mccann fanfiction #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction

[pfenniged]

 tagged by @anathenma WOO GIRL <3

rules: tag 10 followers you want to get to know better

name: Lauren

gender: Female

star sign: Virgo Sun || Leo Moon || Leo Ascendent, which basically means I have the usually quiet reserved personality of an analytical, organised virgo on the fact of things, am usually the goofy, chill friend amongst my friends, and don’t like to take anyone’s shit, but if I am disrespected, I’m a sensitive six foot flower and withdraw from the world until I can get over it. xD I don’t like conflict.

height: 183cm/6 feet 

age: 27 (YIKES XD)

wallpaper on my phone: (I had to check XD) A calendar of May 2020 stylistically arranged around ribbons

house: Slytherin

ever crush on a teacher: Both my parents and my uncle are teachers and consequently I knew every teacher in my school as actual human people and not ‘crushes’ growing up. So no. XD

coolest halloween costume: I went as the Starbucks logo one year when I was eight, a gigantic Lady Luck die one year with a top hat covered in poker chips and cards. I had some good ones I made: I was creative as fuck when I was 9-11 especially, and I had to be, because I was already around 5′7 and people assumed I was just some weirdo dressing up to get candy (Hearing ‘AREN’T YOU A LITTLE OLD TO BE TRICK OR TREATING’ at eleven CRUSHED me XD)

Favorite 90s tv show: 

Okay. So there’s one’s I watched actually as a child of the 90s, and ones that were just always ON in the 90s that I ended up watching. It’s debatable whether these are actually good NOW. XD

That being said, the background ones were Saved By the Bell (ZACH MORRIS IS TRAAAAassssh~~), Boy Meets World, Seinfeld, Everybody Loves Raymond.

As a kid, I loved the Aladdin Animated Series, The Hercules Animated Series, CHIP AND DALE RESCUE RANGERS (Which didn’t really hold up sadly but still has the best theme song of all time, fight me), and Timon and Pumbaa.

One I rarely caught but really liked was All That, The Wonder Years, Sabrina the Teenage Witch- occasionally Fresh Prince.

Out of all of these, I still have a super fond spot for Saved By the Bell, especially with the ‘Zach Morris is Trash’ series on Youtube (Seriously, go watch it. It’s fucking hilarious and basically breaks down how much of a serial killer in the making Zach Morris is XD). The clothing is ridiculous and no one really dressed like that in the early 90s outside of commercials and TV (unfortunately). Maybe one shoddy item out of the bunch. Meanwhile Saved by the Bell is like LETS PUT IT ALL ON. XD It was terrible once they got to college, but it was stupid and fun and made me feel ‘cool’ watching it because I was like three and being like, “YEAH, IT’S BRIGHT AND THESE PEOPLE ARE COOL AND I CAN FOLLOW THE PLOT. I’M MATURE.” XD It’s literally still the only one of these I actively watch now in the form of Zach Morris is Trash, so I’ll go with it. xD

Last kiss: Never had a consensual kiss. Make of that what you will. xD

Have you ever been stood up: Nope.

Favourite pair of shoes: 

I have terrible plantar fasciitis from sports, so I’m a shoe snob, and have to have properly fitting/constructed shoes. It depends on what I’m doing in them, really. I got a pair of trail running shoes for trail running during COVID, but they’re not the most aesthetically pleasing. I’d say the best mixture between comfort and style are either a good ol’pair of black ankle boots with a slight heel (so I can be 6′2 and intimidate people with my height muhahahaha), or more practically on a day to day basis, I have a pair of Reeboks that are 90s-styled with pastel pink and blue triangles on the side. They’re pretty dope. xD

have you ever been to vegas: No, but my parents have. Basically, they said you tire of shopping after two days, and then you’re just stuck inside hotels and shopping malls there. If you’re not a gambler, drinker, or have a ton of money to splash out on stage shows, I don’t think it’s particularly worth going.

favorite fruit: Mango or raspberry, but they’re super-expensive in the land of Maple Syrup so I usually don’t get them any other way other than frozen in smoothies.

Favourite book:

 I could never choose a favourite book. It’s literally like choosing between children. It’s my microcosmic version of Sophie’s Choice. xD Tasteless joke aside, it’d honestly depend on the occasion. There’s a huge difference between entertainment reading, literary exploits, and educating yourself through books as a whole. 

My ‘plane’ book (which I’m terrible at flying, so that was a joke), as in, an easy, fun, instantly rereadable read to read on the plane when I used to have super long fifteen hour flights to Australia, was always Mario Puzo’s ‘The Godfather,’ because I also had a huge crush on Michael Corleone. 

But it’s also not the ‘best’ book and literally spends an inordinate and honestly disturbing amount of time on the fact that this poor woman in the story (which thankfully in the film, it gets cut down), but the bridesmaid Sonny Corleone has sex with, and how you see his wife indicating his ‘size’?

THAT’S LITERALLY AN ENTIRE SUBPLOT OF THIS BROAD’S STORY I SHIT YOU NOT BECAUSE NOTHING IS ‘BIG’ ENOUGH FOR HER AFTER HIM AND THEN YOU FIND OUT SHE HAS A MEDICAL CONDITION AND GOOD FOR HER SHE’S ABLE TO FIND LOVE AGAIN BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MARIO PUZO XD IT WAS A LOT OKAY.

(Footnote: I also suffered through his horrific sequels because I love Michael Corleone and will take him in any form he comes in, even horrifically written Sicilian backhill exploits that were never told to us in the original book and were clearly just written because Puzo needed another pay check but I digress.)

Horrific subplots aside, I really enjoy The Godfather for its sheer pulpiness. The book is essentially what Andrew Lloyd Weber is to musicals. xD (Yes, I come with musical theatre burns. Fight me.)

In terms of a piece of literature that I think is amazingly well done? Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, or Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.

Stupidest thing you ever done: 

Um, maybe when I was at Cambridge I tried to dye my roots to match the rest of my ‘blonde’ hair at the time, and it turned out bright orange? And because it’s Cambridge, they had this super-strict attendance policy, so I was literally trying not to hyperventilate because it was running close to class (which was across campus) and I was trying to find some way to remedy my hair without it falling out/ someone asking about it. So, I grabbed a toque-cap-thing despite it being literally one of the hottest summer on record in the UK (It was like 35 degrees, it was MENTAL), and had to sprint to class all the way on the other side of campus from my college dodging dodgy tourist groups blocking the sidewalk while I went. Then when I sat down inside, I had to be weirdly rude and wear my hat inside the lecture hall even though the professor was looking at me (it was a specialised program in German Literature) like, “Are you going to take that shit off?” xD THEN I tried to dye it back to brown, and it literally looked like mud mixed with a runny egg had exploded on the top of my head; it was AWFUL. XD So FINALLY I did my research and found a salon, but by THAT point I had done 250 pounds worth of damage to my hair (WHICH IS LIKE 400 DOLLARS CANADIAN AT THE TIME), and I almost had a heart attack and thanked my lucky stars that I had money put away so I could give my parents the ‘parent price’ when they asked why they hadn’t seen me on FaceTime or Skype for like, three weeks, and I replaced my face with a photo of John Cleese from Fawlty Towers, which they tease me about to this day. xD

The other dumbest thing I ever said was when I was so desperate for friends in grade six when I moved to a new school (and because being American was ‘cool’ at the time, apparently), I told everyone I was a dual citizen because my mother LITERALLY GAVE BIRTH TO ME ON THE BORDER CROSSING WHAT. XD And bless this poor bespectacled girl named Mara (who was actually a little class friend of mine), who just said timidly in the back, “That’s not how citizenship works.” xD It basically came out of attempting to be cool and failing, but I’m still SO embarrassed about THAT one that I’d never admit it to ANYONE besides shouting it out into the Tumblr black hole. xD I’m still embarrassed to THIS DAY.

All time favorite shows: 

 I’ll go for the original run of The Twilight Zone, which has some schmaltzy episodes (I’m really not a fan of any of the episodes entirely dedicated to the Space Race or the weird cowboy fanaticism of the fifties/ sixties, or anything that’s overtly like “ALIENS DID IT SO THERE”), but I LOVE their psychological horror episodes or Dystopian episodes. It’s when Rod Serling’s writing and narrative voice is the strongest and most prophetic, and the twists are usually the best. Other shows have tries to imitate it, or reboot it, but I really think the original, due to Rod Serling’s unmatchable voice, in every sense of the word. There’s lists of some of the greatest episodes, but I remember LOVING the episode ‘A Stop at Willoughby.’ The twist literally made me clap my hands in horror and delight, it was amazing. xD

Other than that? Off the top of my head, Mad Men and Band of Brothers, even though I haven’t rewatched either in ages.

last movie you saw in theaters: 

Oh God, before all THIS hit? Probably Rise of Skywalker. I get agoraphobic and itchy if a movie theatre is too busy, and we only have really pokey sort of ones nearby that you’re guaranteed to see someone you went to high school with (terrible), so now that I can properly drive I go out to the big redneck theatre out in the boonies. I miss living in Montreal though, because when you live in a big city like that downtown (and can actually afford to live there), you could see blockbuster movies at like ten in the morning. xD Which would be AMAZING because I’d go to see any of the early Avengers/Marvel movies when they opened, the day of opening, and it was literally me, one old man who fell asleep halfway through and sat near the back, and maybe an elderly couple on a morning date to the movies. xD I get really annoyed with obnoxious movie-goers, and I’m really picky about just being completely absorbed in the movie, so I tend not to go unless I’m guaranteed that space. 

tagging: Anyone who wishes to tag me back so I can learn about them <3

#meme #well god this was embarrassing #still hope you found something of interest in there though xD #personal #I indented the longer answers so this was somewhat cohesive

[noir-porker-parker-holland]

Outrageously Crazy

Dad!Roger Taylor x Reader

Sorry I can’t get over Dad!roger lmao

Word Count: 2.6k of pure fluff

---

 Roger had said he had a surprise and lord were you nervous. He had told you he wanted to see what it was and a series of things were flashing through your mind, and none were good.

“Baby,” Roger said letting his thumb draw figures on your arms as you cuddled on the couch watching the television. “Hmm,” You hummed letting your eyes close for a moment, awaiting his comment. “I have a surprise for you. But you have to wait a couple days for it.” You opened your eyes and craned your neck in order to see the blonde beauty laid in front of your eyes. “Hmm,, what if i don’t want to wait?” You asked. “Well then expect to be surprised.”

You laughed, “can you just tell me what it is?” he shrugged, “If you want but there is a 50/50 chance you might break up with me.” You furrowed your brows and looked at him like he was crazy. “I promise you, i will not break up with you, no matter how drastically crazy it is.” You grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles. A small sign of affection but one that was quite meaningful to Roger.

It was the day of the surprise and needless to say, you and roger both were nervous out of your minds but neither of you wanted to point out the obvious. You put on a simple white wrap shirt and black bell bottoms with black platforms shoes, and made your way out to the living room where Roger was waiting. He mouthed a ‘wow’ and grabbed your hand to lead you out to his car. He drove you to his apartment and you were surprised to see the normal apartment.

He led you upstairs and where you heard Freddie’s voice boom through the apartment, talking to someone. You were confused to say the least, was he talking to Brian? John? “Now just remember your promise. I really really like you and i want you to stick around. I know we’ve only gone out for about a 6 months but i thought it was time for you to meet her.” Her?! What the literal fuck is he going on about?!

He unlocked the door and there stood Freddie with a girl, who was the spitting image of Roger, in his arms. As you walked into the apartment you melted at the sight of Roger's daughter. “Y/n, this is my daughter, Wren . Wren, this is my girlfriend y/n.” You could see why her name was Wren . She had black hair, you guessed that came from the mother, big brilliant blue eyes, and from what you could tell the same cheeky smile as Roger. “Hi Wren,” you said. Freddie put the girl down and she walked over to you and placed her hand out towards you. You chuckled put shook her small hand nonetheless. “Hi, I'm Wren.” She said, before walking over to her dad.

“Well it seems as though I should be leaving. Bye bye, you two.” Freddie said before prancing out the door. “Please say something.” Roger said. “She's absolutely gorgeous.” Roger let out a breath he had been holding unintentionally. He about to kiss you but forgot about the child in his arms, “ewww that's nasty.” She said, effectively making Roger pull away from you before even let his lips touch yours. He looked at the girl and smiled. “Hun just wait till you're older,” you said to her. Roger looked at you like you were down right bonkers, “uh uh no. She is not having a boyfriend of any sort.” You snorted, “sure that is exactly what my dad said to me and look at me now, I have a rockstar for a boyfriend.”

Wren giggled, “no rockstar boyfriends ok?” He asked her but she just giggled. “I wanna be a rockstar just like you daddy,” She said to him. Roger could feel his heart melt, “Do you want to be a drummer like daddy?” She shook her head. “I wanna be like Deacy.” Roger put her down and walked away dramatically, “you are not my child.” She walked over to you and asked you to pick her up. You picked her up with ease and said being a drummer is boring compared to being a bassist. Roger looked at you with the down right dirtiest glare he could muster. Wren giggled again at the sight her her dad. “Just for that, I'm going to tickle you,” he said that walking to the both of you. You ran with Wren in your arms till you got to the bedroom. You put her in the closet and you ran under the bed.

Roger came in and started to look around “come out come out wherever you are.” You looked at Wren and mouthed 'one, two, three’

On three you both ran out the room into the living room, leaving Roger to chase after both of you. Roger daughter Wren in his arms and put her on to the ground in front of the couch. He tickled her half to death before hearing your laugh and looking at you. He stopped tickling Wren and ran to you, catching you in his arms before you could run. He tickled you and you laughed so hard. You sweared you were about to combust. Roger got off you you and the three of you relaxed.

After that, Roger put on a movie the three of you would enjoy. He made a little nest with blankets on the floor and you crawled in next to him, with your head in his lap. Wren came over to you and nuzzled her head into your neck, making herself more comfortable. You smiled at the sight of her trying to fight her sleepiness and trying to stay awake. You and Roger both soon drifted off to sleep leaving the television playing in the background.

You felt a weight shift on your body and you opened your eyes. Wren was now completely on your body, awake. You glanced at the clock and it was midnight. Roger was asleep next to you on the floor. “Are you awake?” She whispered to you, and you nodded. “Can we play?” You chuckled quietly, not trying to wake up Roger but little did you know, he was already awake. “It's late, Wren. And I'm guessing your dad wouldn't want you to be awake so late.” She groaned. “Can you help me to get to bed?” She asked and you nodded. Taking the child in your arms you made your way to her bed room. She put on her pajamas and laid into bed. You turned off the lamp and bid her goodnight. You went to the living room but Roger wasn't there so you guessed he was in his room.

He laid there sprawled out on the bed like a starfish waiting for you to return. You crawled on the bed till you reached him. “Saw you with Wren,” he said quietly. “You're great with her.” You chuckled, “she a great kid,” you said. “Are you ok with all of this? I know it's a lot to take in but-” you cut him off by pressing your lips to his. “I'm not going anywhere.” He smiled and pulled you on top of him. “What do you actually think of Wren?” He asked. You looked up at with your hand on his chest, “I think she is the coolest little girl, a bit of a spitfire like her dad but that’s ok because that lets you know she’s going to own her shit and not let people walk over her.” Roger’s small smile turned into a full grin before your eyes. He pulled you down to give you a passionate kiss on the kiss, his actions surprised you and elicited a giggle out of you. You both pulled away and rested your forehead on the other’s and just laid there looking deep into each other's eyes.

3 Years Later

In three years, lots of things have happened, Wren was now 6 and had changed quite a lot. Her blonde locks grew a lot and now were down at the middle of her back. Her spitfire personality had grown and had gotten her into trouble because of it. But every time she had a reason to justify it and that was the best part. She did everything with a purpose.

Your relationship with Roger also changed. You both got married when Wren was 5, 2 years into the relationship. You both felt it was best, you both knew it was right.

Since them you’ve changed. A LOT.

After you got married with Roger, you went at it like fucking rabbits. Of course that was when Wren was asleep, given that she always wanted to play. Soon enough, you got pregnant. Nine LONG months and a 14 hour labor later you gave birth to a baby boy. Who you soon named Apollo Mercury (After freddie’s persistence) Taylor. He was your first bundle and roger’s second but the love you both had for him was equal to Wren’s.

But Wren felt differently. She thought all of the attention was going to Apollo. And that was kinda true, considering the baby was 2 weeks old. And she was staying with uncle John for the time being.

“Wren come on dinner.” John said snapping Wren out of her thoughts. “Wren are you ok? You don't seem like yourself.” She just shrugged. “Mum and dad seem to like the baby more than me,” she said looking down at the floor. John came over to the little girl and lifted her off the ground into his arms, “no they don't. You just have a new baby that needs attention too.” He explained. “Then how come they made me leave the house?” She asked. John didn't know how to respond. “How about after you eat we go and see the baby?” She nodded quite skeptical about the entire thing.

John held the girls hand as they approached the door. Soon a sleep deprived Roger opened the door. He smiled as soon as she saw his baby girl. “She missed you guys.” John said as Roger hugged his daughter. “Thanks deaky.” He said. John walked to his car but turned around when he heard a voice call out “bye uncle deaky” come from the house.

Roger lifted the girl off the ground and took her to see her mom. As soon as Wren saw you, she ran to you with a grin sitting on her face. “Hi baby,” you said kissing her cheek. “I missed you mama.” Although it wasn't the first time she had said 'mama’ to you, your heart melted. “Do you want to meet your baby brother?” You asked her, she seemed hesitant but nodded nonetheless. Roger came over to the right side of the bed and passed you Apollo. You held your son, with Wren both to your right. Your little family. “What do you think Wren?” Roger asked. She shrugged. “Do we have juice?” She asked not caring too much for the baby. You and roger chuckled. You kissed her cheek and off she went with Roger to the kitchen to get juice, leaving you and Apollo alone in the room.

-------

It had been about a month since Apollo had been born and the band had been itching to meet him. Of course, Wren was still jealous, but not as much as she had been previously. Freddie had been especially persistent on meeting his “godson’ and soon the entire band had been asking “When are we going to meet him?” or “Jeez, you’re keeping the baby away from us aren’t you?” What were you supposed to say to that?

Apollo was finally able to go out and well you figured it was the perfect time to introduce him to his uncles. Roger was already at the studio so you, Wren, and Apollo went to surprise him.

As you grew closer to the studio, Wren had started to be antsy. There was not much you could do about it except endure her constant cries for her father. But soon they became unbearable. “Mom!” She cried out, you sighed. With Apollo asleep you were afraid she’d wake him up. “Wren, can you please keep it down? Apollo is asleep,” You scolded. Yes, she shut up but that didn’t mean she was in a good mood either. The only one calm-ish, was the sleeping baby which would soon turn into a screaming banshee if you weren’t careful.

You pulled up to the studio and the kids were calm. You took Wren by the hand and led the kids down to the room where the boys where. Miami first caught sight of you and gasped. Which made all four members turn their heads. Soon their annoyed looks turned soft as they saw you and the kids. “Well finally i can see my godson,” Freddie said coming over to you. Wren caught sight of her father and let go your hand to run over to him, “Daddy!!” She shouted. He caught her easily in his arms and kissed her cheek. You pulled the now awake Apollo from his car seat, and handed him off to Freddie. Brian and John huddled around Freddie to see him. You smiled as you saw the boys interacting with the baby. Roger passed Wren to John, and came over to you. He wrapped his arms around you waist, eliciting a gasp out of you. He nuzzled his face in your neck and gave it a kiss, “mm, you have that mama glow,” he said. You chuckled, “I don't think there is such a thing.” He pulled his face out of your neck to look at you, “no? Then I guess it's your natural beauty that I fell in love with.” You were blushing, hard and he noticed. He smirked as you pulled away from him, biting your lip to contain your grin, like you did when you first met him. “Baby, are you blushing?” He asked knowing damn well you were. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back into him. “hmm, good to know I still got the charm to make you blush like a schoolgirl.” You giggled, making the rest of the boys look at you.

“Jeez, they were over there sucking each other's faces and we were over here with their children, outrageous.” Freddie said making you laugh. Wren nuzzled her face into John's neck and stayed there, closing her eyes ever so slightly, trying to stay awake but sleep was pulling her away. Soon she fell asleep in his arms and he couldn't get away from her because she kept pulling herself towards him. He sat down and soon it was the same deal with Freddie. Apollo was asleep and he couldn't dare wake him up. He was Freddie's prince. “Looks like the recording session is over,” Roger said. Your back was to Roger's chest so you had to crane your neck to get a good look at him. “Hmm, that just means we get to spend time with our family.” His grip tightened around your waist as he relaxed into you. “Our outrageously crazy family.” He repeated. Yes it was an outrageously crazy family but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

---

A/N: hello, i got quite a lot of love on my last roger x reader post so here is another. btw my requests are always open but i just don’t get to them as often as i should. 

TAGS: @sleepybesson

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#roger taylor #rog #roger taylor x reader #dad!roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor angst #roger #queen #roger taylor imagins #roger taylor x you #rogerina

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #242

“i don’t miss you, i miss the misery.”

How many pairs of converse shoes do you own? Hm... three or four? Any other names your parents planned to give you? The only one I *think* I remember is Katelyn. Thank fuck I dodged that bullet. Which is the most beautiful place you know? The mountains between NC and TN, if I remember correctly. I was very young. What do you work with? I don't work period & I hate it. Have you ever hit an animal with your car? Thank Christ no. Favorite ride at the amusement park? I guess ferris wheels. Favorite beauty essential in your bathroom cabinet? I don't have a "favorite" considering I don't use any regularly. Do you have many followers on your Tumblr? Nah. Do you tan easily? I burn like toast, man. Are you expecting something in the mail? No. Do you inspire others? Idk. What do you collect? Meerkat stuff and Silent Hill merch. Do you like cats? Hell yes!!! Are you healthy? If you excuse my weight and muscle atrophy, I'm actually pretty healthy, according to a billion tests I've gotten done when trying to discover *why* I had such awful pain in my legs. Have you ever been out of state? Yeah. Can you always blame your acts on that you were just too drunk? Fuck no. Three things you try to avoid as much as possible: Well dying lmao, getting hurt, public speaking. How many times have you been overseas? Zero. Do you use to have someone in mind when shopping for underwear? Wait what the fuck- What accent do you have? I don't really have one, although I do have a southern tone with some words sometimes I suppose. I also do say things like "y'all" or "fixing to (do something)," so I use some Southern terminology. Where would you like to live? The mountains of western NC. Sigh. Do you follow fashion? No. Do you have a big butt? Ever heard of Hank Hill Ass Syndrome? I have Hank Hill Ass Syndrome. Your worst job nightmare is: Customer service EVER again. Who’s the coolest rapper in the world? Idk and idc. Do you count how long you and your gf/bf have been together? I mean yeah, I think anniversaries are worth celebration. Healthy relationships aren't always easy to maintain; to remain in love takes forgiveness, loyalty, dedication... all that. It shouldn't be hard, but it takes effort. Have you graduated? High school, anyway. Rihanna or Lady Gaga? Lady Gaga, definitely. Do you use fake eyelashes? No. What’s your worst interior design nightmare: I dunno. Probably just being very crammed? What makeup brands do you use? I don't have any particular ones; I don't wear makeup enough. What’s the worst kind of rejection you could give someone? I genuinely feel it to be how Jason did so with me. Three and a half years in a very serious relationship, and he out of the blue breaks up with me over Facebook because my depression became "too much." Like by NOW I understand I can't shame him for wanting to be happy, but the way he did it was fucking cruel and tore me apart. Like especially when this person was your refuge from daily pain and pretty much your god and future (never make someone that, holy holy HOLY shit don't), that individual just suddenly having enough and breaking contact off like that was emotional murder. Do you have a crush on someone right now? Well yeah, but it's like... a "tamed" one? Is that an accurate word? Like I understand it just can't work right now, but it doesn't stop me from liking her. Is there anyone that many people think is hot, but you don’t? I'm sure there's someone. Do you sort and organize your clothes in some kind of way? Sorta. When somebody intimidates you, how do you usually act around them? Nervous, skittish, more awkward than usual. Is your favorite singer in a band or does he or she ride solo? Brendon Urie is in P!atD and Patrick Stump is in Fall Out Boy. Freddie Mercury was the vocalist of Queen. Did your parents ever hang your old artwork up on the walls? Yeah, Mom still has some up lmao. How often do you wear chapstick? Only when my lips are actually chapped. Do you walk around your house with your shoes on or do you take them off? Definitely off. What is the weirdest obsession you’ve ever had? Collecting stickers, maybe? How many of the seven deadly sins have you fulfilled today? Sloth is on the daily lmao, gluttony, and lust. Should guys always kiss the girl on a first date? Not always, of course not. It depends on the comfort level, and I would ALWAYS ask first. Which band has the corniest music videos? Corniest lyrics? I don't really watch music videos, and idk about lyrics. What subject is/was hardest for you in school? Math. Have any songs ever inspired you to play an instrument? No. Do you ever use Pandora? No. Are you better with creative writing or writing essays? I think I'm good at both, but I probably excel in creative writing. When was the last time you were rick rolled? No clue. What is the weirdest animal you’ve ever seen as a pet? Seen, I guess a chinchilla, though that's not really "weird." If you had to change one, would you rather change your hair or your eyes? Eyes. When was the last time you had a ‘she-mergency’? I had to look this up to be certain what that even was lmao. Probably some time I started my period at school and had to use folded toilet paper or something for a while. Which sounds creepier: sleeping in the attic or the basement? I'd say it depends on the make-up of each and its cleanliness. What was your favorite computer game as a kid? I think it was called The Amazon Trail 3? It was a damaged disc however, so it froze a lot. I think I only finished it once or twice; even knowing it would likely crash, I just liked playing it as far as I could. Have you ever tried on your mom’s wedding ring? No. Any shows on TV that you flat out refuse to start watching? 13 Reasons Why, to name perhaps the #1. What is your opinion on fruitcake? NO. Here’s a tough one. Would you rather marry your cousin or a dog? Oh fuck off, neither. Who did you last dream about? I can't remember what it was about, but I know Mark was in it lmao. Do you have trouble remembering important things? Sometimes. My memory is atrocious. Which animal can you imitate the best? Audibly? Probably a cat. Which is harder - walking in the snow or sand? Sand. I FUCKING hate walking through sand. It's one reason I don't like the beach. Do you like sour candy? oml YES. If anyone, who did you sit with at lunch today? N/A Have you gotten any injuries lately? If so, what and how? Not anything I can remember. Are you a clumsy person? You have no idea. How about disorganized? I'm oddly split down the middle. Last male you talked to in person? My dad. Have you ever had a sunburn? Oh boy, I've gotten past that. Try sun poisoning. Are you thinking about asking anyone out? No. Pink lemonade or regular lemonade? PINK! Chocolate or strawberry milk? Oh boy, chocolate. I tried strawberry as a child and absolutely loathed it beyond words known to man, and I will not be giving it a second chance. I remember it pristinely. Disgusting. What volume is the ringer on your phone? It's on vibrate. Have you ever won a contest on the radio? No. Do you often write on yourself? I never do, 'less we're talking about tattoos lol. Is there writing on the shirt you are currently wearing? No. Frosted flakes or frosted mini wheats? I hate the latter, so I guess frosted flakes, though I don't really remember how they taste. Do mushrooms really add flavor to food? I hate them, so they obviously have enough flavor for me to notice them... What about onions? Yes. Are you a fan of Thai food? I've actually never had Thai food. How about Indian food? Same as above. Have you ever tried sushi? No. In your opinion, who would be the best president? I don't know. What was the last thing you spent more than $20 on? I have no ide- oh wait I paid for Teddy's surgery with... money I don't know from whence it came? Was it financial aid money? Idr. Do you wear actual designated ‘pajamas’ to bed? Pj pants and a tank top. When was the last time you were tempted to do something you’d later regret? Probably take a nap late in the day, ending in me being unable to sleep well at night. Thankfully, I decided against it. Have you ever had feelings for your best friend’s significant other? Yes. Well, not current best friend, but a former one. How many times did you ride in a car today? Zero. Are you comfortable in your own skin? Fuck no. What's absolutely splendid is even when/if I lose the weight I aim to, I'm going to have loose skin that literally might make me hate my body more until I without argument muster up the money to get it surgically removed. Are you in a good mood right now? I'm alright. When was the last time you had an ice cream cone? Been quite a while. Did you eat breakfast this morning? Yeah, had some cereal. Have you ever been in a cemetery at midnight? No. Do you live on your own? No. I don't even think I could tolerate living alone because of my depression and how loneliness can severely trigger it. I'm realistically probably not moving out until it'll be with an s/o. If not, who do you live with? I live with my mom, my sister's dog, and my cat and snake. How old are your siblings, if you have any? I have a lot, and I don't know the ages of all of them, only my two immediate sisters: 26 and 21. Have you ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend? No. Have you donated blood in the last 2 years? No. What was the last free t-shirt you received from? School. Is there anything you are looking forward to at the moment? February 4th, baby. Tattoo gets fixed up by an artist I like far more. Him not having an open booking until then should say enough. Are you an atheist? No. Are you Asian? No. Are you fluent in another language? No. Are you in the military? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Are you an artist? Not professional, but I enjoy making art. Are you a musician? No. Are you an athlete? Oh, hunny- Do you have a favorite flower? I really like orchids. Where was the last place you went that was more than an hour away? Great question... The trip to my therapist is about an hour, but not over. Why were you going there? For therapy. Who was the last person to tell you you looked nice? Probably Mom, idk. Have you ever been to a nude beach? Hell no, I wouldn't even if I was in great shape. How many websites do you have an account for? WHEW I have no idea, A LOT over all the years. Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? Well, WoW is an online game, so a subscription, though because I obviously don't have my own money, I'm sadly rich enough in the game to use monthly tokens. Do you try clothes on before you buy them? Not always. I try to avoid it because I just hate doing it. What would you do if you knew a robber was in your house? Well I obviously don't know how I'd react on impulse, but I'd imagine myself locking my door and then climbing out the window. Then run like a motherfucker up the road some to a neighbor's, or hide in the nearby woods and call Mom. What’s your favorite type of pizza? Meat lovers sobs in wannabe-vegetarian. Have you ever been afraid of falling in love? Yes, very. Who’d you last see in a tux? I don't know. Do you record any TV shows and watch them later? No. Do you have difficulty pronouncing any words? Yeah, particularly "breakfast." I tend to put a "t" after the "k." Do you have your own computer? Yeah. Out of everyone you know, who was the most heart? My mom. Who’s the bravest person you know? Oh man, that's hard. I know a lot of brave people. Who would you want to have your back if things got tough? More than anyone in the world, Mom. Have your friends ever given you answers to homework, last minute? Yeah. Have you ever dated someone who was real sportsy? No. Have you ever done something terrible, but took forever to feel bad? By this point in time, I consider how I spoke to Jason before going to the ER multiple times absolutely terrible, and yes, it did take a very long time for me to realize just how cruel it was. Now it's fucking HARD to accept I ever said what I did. Have you ever read Shakespeare? Yes. Can anyone really change anyone that doesn’t wanna change? Nope. Do you think that anyone currently has a crush on you? I would assume Sara still does, but again, we know a relationship between us just isn't wise right now. What profession do you admire the most? The most? Man, that's hard to decide. Probably those that risk their lives for others, like firefighters, cops (yes, I am aware some abuse their power, but good cops deserve all the respect in the world), etc. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? I don't believe so, no. What’s the hardest lesson you’ve ever had to learn? Bad things happen to good people and no, the universe does not care. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Well obviously.

#survey #questions #quiz #random #bored

[pjbehindthesun]

chapter 23: an hour and a half from now

Saturday, November 3rd, 1990

What does it say about me, that this is the most at home I’ve felt in this city since I’ve moved here? Leaning on a cold metal pole in the back of a shithole music venue by myself with nobody to talk to, just watching the people in the crowd who have no idea they’re being watched. Shit, I don’t mean it to sound all creepy like that, it’s just one of my favorite things to do: pay attention to people when they think they’re being ignored. That whole “dance while no one’s watching” idea? Makes for a solid evening of entertainment all by itself. Unless, like tonight, everyone seems to be here on a goddamn date. For the first half of the set, it’s just felt nice, the way no one’s bothered me all night, but it’s like a light switch flicked in my head and now all I can see is that everyone’s here with someone. Fucking great. Can’t even enjoy a show without reverting into a self-pitying, morose fucker. Maybe if I find a different spot in the club, I can try to force my attention back on the band. At least no one’s hassling me about shouldering my way forward. In a small enough place like the Off Ramp, no one really gives a shit.

Yeah, okay, this is better. The only people I can see are the handful of people directly in front of me and the band. They’re pretty fucking great, I never saw ‘em before… Jesus Lizard, I wanna say? Supposed to be out of Chicago, so we probably know a lot of the same people, although Beth was always way more into the noise rock scene than me…

Fuck. Stop it, Vedder. I hate this whole fucking break-up thing. Whose idea was it, anyway, not mine… I hate how everything reminds me of her. Or, I guess, I want to hate it. Truthfully, those painful little stabs of memory are all I have of her anymore, so I guess I should be grateful for them. I have a habit of hoarding them, like a collector, turning them over and over like cherished trinkets. How fucked up is that? Wait a minute… that’s not her, is it? There, the little brunette, up on the rail, in the white t-shirt that’s too big for her frame... fuck, it looks just like her from this angle, it’s got to be her… what the fuck is she doing here? She wouldn’t have come all the way up here, would she? For what reason? To tell me she wants to get back together? I shove between a couple of guys who are probably gonna murder me in an alleyway later, but it doesn’t matter, my hand’s on her shoulder, she whips around, and…

“M’sorry, thought you were someone else,” I mutter as the girl turns back to the music with a justified look of disgust, although there’s no way she heard my apology and definitely no way she cared. Of course it wasn’t her. What the fuck would she be doing in Seattle? What sense would that make? So fucking stupid. Doesn’t matter how many times I think I spot her in a crowd, it’s only wishful thinking. Stupid, invasive, immature dreams of her coming to find me, to tell me we’d made a horrible mistake. Just dreams. I can’t get myself outside the club fast enough. There’s a stack of the local circular on the counter by the door, so I grab one on my way out, hoping I’ll find something in there that’s actually worth thinking about, and shiver when I hit the damp outside air after escaping the stuffy club.

Maybe I should have gone out with Jeff and Mike after all, seen whatever show they wanted to see. Maybe I would have had a different set of distractions with them, done a better job keeping my mind off of Beth. Then again, seems like every time I go out with the guys, we end up hanging out with like a dozen of their closest friends in the music scene. Normally that’d be great, but I can’t shake the feeling that their buddies are always making fun of me somehow. I don’t blame ‘em, I’m probably fucking hilarious to them, a surfer in Seattle, a terrified frontman, the absolute antithesis of everything the guys had going on before, with Andy, just a…

...just a self-absorbed knucklehead whose problems aren’t shit compared to what I can see a little ways down the road from me. There’s a person, a woman, maybe, looks like she’s about my mom’s age, and she’s settling in for the night underneath the highway overpass. Okay, there’s one way I can quit being a mopey sack of shit and do something positive.

After giving her all the change in my wallet, the newspaper I wasn’t really reading anyway, the flannel under my coat, and the cut-off gloves I’d forgotten I had stashed in my pocket, I start back in the direction of home. Or Jeff’s apartment, I should say. Home’s a long way away. But I don’t get very far past the door of the Off-Ramp.

“Eddie?”

The door opens, carrying with it a wall of club noise and a familiar, mellow voice that makes me turn around.

“Oh, uh, hey Chris,” I greet him as he materializes out on the street, looming in all black. “You been here long? I didn’t see you, I woulda said hi.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” he smiles, “but it’s cool, I probably wouldn’t have either. It’s just one of those nights. You probably know how that is. I figured you’d be over at Squid Row with Jeff and Cready.”

“Oh, uh, you know, I was just…”

“Hey, like I said, it’s one of those nights. I’m being an antisocial shit too,” his grin widens. “We could team up, you know? Twice the brooding.”

“The more the moodier,” I’m chuckling in spite of myself. Chris seems to do that -- put people at ease. If he wants to. I’m glad I ran into him.

“Where were you headed?”

“There’s this footpath over at Discovery Park, and it’s usually pretty kinda quiet this time of night. My wife, she’s a big fan of these ridiculous little dogs. You ever seen a Pomeranian?”

I squint, racking my brain. “Those the Chinese ones, the little ones that look like mops?”

“No, no, that’s a Pekingese,” he laughs at the characterization. “Poms are even less dignified, they’re literally just pom poms with googly eyes glued on. Anyway, Susan’s all about ‘em, and we just got one. Well, a new one, I should say, we already had one, so now they’re a dynamic duo. Kinda funny to watch them try and keep up with my shepherd in the mud,” he mimes short legs flailing and a tongue panting, and his long hair looks for all the world like a pair of poodle ears as it sways along, “so I go out there by myself with a bunch of shitty beer and watch ‘em run around until they’re too tired and I have to carry ‘em back, one under each arm. It’s really fucking therapeutic, you should try it.”

Is this guy serious? I know I’m new to Seattle, but you’d have to live under a rock to miss how big Soundgarden is around here. And this notorious rockstar spends his weekends roaming through forests like a lonely ghost with a pack of ridiculous hounds? That’s officially the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever heard another human being say.

“Well? You in?”

I bob my head once in agreement, trying not to smile like too much of a fucking maniac, and another easy smile spreads across his face.

“Yes! My car’s that one, the Galaxie. Fuckin’ radio’s stuck on a religious station right now, though, hope you’re feeling the right combination of gullible and guilty.” He points at something parked behind him on the corner before turning on his heels to head in that direction. A massive, battered, late ‘60s Ford land yacht. I don’t think I could feel more heartfelt and instant love for an inanimate object if I tried.

“Hey, if you’re into hiking, we oughta go tomorrow too, there’s that trail Cora and I were telling you about a while back, I don’t think she’d be too mad if we went without her… although on second thought, I don’t want her to kill either one of us, so maybe we should probably check and see if she wants in... ” he trails off as I break into a jog to try and keep up.

***

Sunday, November 4th, 1990

“Where are you off to at this hour?”

In the quiet and darkened apartment, Alex’s voice makes me bounce into the air from my seat on the couch where I’d been tying my shoe.

“JESUS! You scared the shit out of me!”

He watches me with a rueful twist of his lips. “It’s my apartment too, ya know. You got too used to it being empty while I was gone, huh?”

“No, it’s not like that…” ...except it’s exactly like that, I mutter to myself as I try to stop my heart from racing like a cornered bunny's… “I just didn’t think you were awake yet and I didn’t want to be the one to wake you. I figured you’re probably still tired. From your trip.”

“Nah,” he groans through a stretch, “wide awake. My body’s still on mountain time.”

“Hmm.” I return my attention to my laces in the absence of anything else to say to him.

“You didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Your…?”

“Where are you off to?”

“So long, Mom, I’m off to drop the Bomb...” I singsong absently while I finish tying the other sneaker’s laces. When I straighten up, Alex is looking utterly lost and more than a little annoyed.

“Come again?”

“Little bit of pre-nostalgia for World War III, that’s all.”

I bite my lip to shut myself up. Weapons of mass destruction and nuclear holocaust are maybe slightly less funny when we’re actually keeping so many secrets from one another.

“You’re so fucking weird.” Alex shakes his head in dismissal, not showing any signs of having gotten the joke. Stone would have thought it was funny. UGH, god damn it, speak of the devil. Why am I thinking about Stone? Stop thinking about Stone! Stop it! Quick, change the subject…

“Well, I was going to go for a run, if that helps answer your question.”

Alex nods and I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s the only excuse I can find for getting out of the house long enough to clear my head and sort through some of the chaos of the last 48 hours. Making sense of what Lucy was trying to tell me the other day. Deciding what to do about this gift Alex sent Patch. Figuring out what the hell I actually think of Stone now. It’s gonna need to be a long run.

“Can I come with you?”

“Are you feeling okay?” I frown as he circles his arms around me, my body staying stiff as he tries to coax me to relax.

“Better than ever. So can I?”

“You want to come with me.”

“Mmm.” He kisses the tip of my nose, and it's a struggle not to wrinkle it in response.

“Outside.”

“Unless you just want me to chase you around the apartment, I figured as much.”

“Run-ning,” I stretch my word out, unsure whether I've lost my mind or he has.

His bottom lip pokes out. “Don’t sound so shocked, you might hurt my feelings.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just… I don’t think you’ve ever…”

“Who says I can’t start now?”

“No one, but…”

“But what?”

“I can’t guarantee there will be any bears or murderers chasing us, Alex, and I’ve never heard you say anything nice about weirdos like me who run for fun.”

“Are you impugning my athletic ability?” He laughs, grabbing my ass and making me contort away from him yet again. At the look of confusion on his face, it occurs to me that I'm being a colossal asshole.

“You really want to come running with me?”

“Mmhmm.”

“But… why?”

“Why what?”

“Alex. You hate running. And hiking. And being outside. And, like, nature in general.”

He shrugs and says, very simply, “yeah, but I love you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he grabs my ass again, and it’s all I can do not to grimace, “I missed you, okay? I kinda want to spend time with you.”

Well, it’s official, if I blow him off right now, I’m a sub-human. So much for my grand plan to figure out how in the world I'm supposed to tell him I don't really love him anymore.

“Yeah… okay. Let me, uh, let me get some stuff together and we’ll go?”

He lets go of me with a smirk and heads towards the kitchen, but pauses a few paces away and groans as he claps his hand over his eyes.

“Pull a muscle?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“I don't even think I have running shoes.” He faces me with a sheepish look, pulling his hand back to ruffle his hair. That always used to make me melt, when he’d do that. Used to. Now it just seems like a juvenile gesture he drops whenever he’s trying to get out of trouble. I never used to understand how falling out of love with someone was possible. I dimly remember thinking Stone sounded like a total asshole when he explained having gone through it. But right now, he’s the only person I want to talk to about it. Which is deeply inconvenient when I’m supposed to be hating his guts. Stupid Stone. But on the bright side, now I have an easy excuse to go on that solitary run.

“Oh, well, that solves th --”

“I’ll call Brian, he runs, I bet he has a pair I can steal!”

Before I can finish my objection, he’s got the phone to his ear and has already dialed his friend. I sink back against the lip of the kitchen table while he and his friend haggle over a pair of stinky running shoes, his friend who he’s never introduced me to, his friend who suddenly symbolizes how thoroughly we established completely different lives the moment we moved to Seattle. Why did it take me so long to figure this out? Lucy’s been trying to tell me, even Patch tried to tell me… damn it, I should really call Patch.

“Okay, don’t move a muscle, I’ll be right back!”

Alex plants a slightly-too-rough kiss on my cheek before flinging on his coat and bolting out the door. I numbly make my way over to the couch to curl up and stare at the phone. This is as good a time as ever to call Patch, right? See what he really thinks about Alex’s $500 stunt? Make sure he isn’t going to hate me if I go through with breaking up with Alex? God, they’ve always been such good friends, how on earth do you break up with someone who’s become a part of your family?

But instead of picking up the phone, I pick at a loose piece of rubber on the sole of my shoe. I want to hear my brother’s voice, but I’m terrified that maybe, possibly, there’s a slim chance he’ll tell me exactly what I want to hear and then I’ll have nothing left to do but act. And anyway, as much as I need his affirmation, I’m afraid of hearing yet again how I’m making all the wrong choices. It’s not his problem to solve, any more than it’s Lucy’s. I can hear how exasperated they’re both getting with me. So instead of calling my brother, and bothering him with my bullshit and hearing his predictable answers, I sit in a giant pile of mope and pick at my shoes while I wait for Alex to come back.

A heavy pair of footsteps slows down as it approaches my door. That must be Alex. I don’t even look up. Until the owner of the footsteps knocks. Alex wouldn’t knock.

“Uh, it’s open?” I call from the couch.

When Chris cracks the door and leans to peer inside, his hair precedes him, cracking me up and shaking me out of my mopey idiocy.

“Smokey! Can I come in?”

“Always. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

“Funny you mention woods,” he smiles, bounding over to the couch. He hesitates for a moment at the pile of laundry I haven’t folded yet, which is occupying the entire cushion next to me, but after I shrug at him, he scoops it up and dumps it unceremoniously on the floor. One item, my favorite navy blue bra, stays hooked to the afghan, and I cringe as I watch him gently untangle it and set it down on top of the rest of my clothes, looking totally unfazed. He joins me on the couch, staring at the toes of my shoes and stretching his arm along the back of the cushion. “I’m heading out for a hike, just gotta pick up my date first.”

He reaches over and shoves my arm with his fingertips.

“Nuh uh, no can do.”

“Smokeyyyyy,” he whines.

“I have to study! And, uh, I’m waiting for Alex to get back so we can go for a run?” I wish I could have kept my voice from turning my statement into a question, because there’s a glint of understanding in Chris’s eyes that I don’t particularly like. But his voice is mild enough when he speaks. I like him for that.

“Sure, sure.”

“Okay, fine, I kinda don’t feel like being around people today, are you happy?”

“Hardly ever,” his mouth twists, “but I know the feeling. Kinda why we’re friends in the first place, right?”

The corners of my mouth tug up just as his have as I stare at him and reflect on how much he’s brought into my life since I scolded him on a mountaintop on a day when we both needed to escape into the woods. This friendship that has never demanded much at all, but always been easy to settle into again after a lapse. The reassurance that there’s always someone with whom I have this maladjusted ghosting habit in common. And the Mookie guys. I have him to thank for that too. I swallow the peculiar lump rising in my throat.

“So, what’s new with you?”

“Yeah, I miss you too. Not much. Just working on Temple stuff now that we’re home for the rest of the year.”

“Ah, right. How’s that going?”

“Excellent,” he enthuses. “Shouldn’t even call it working. Never quite done anything like it. Have you heard any of it yet?”

“No, not that I can think of.” I haven’t heard the guys play in a while, but I’m not about to go into that. “You guys have that show coming up?”

He nods. “Couple weeks. You’ll be there, right?”

I let out a sigh that I feel like I’ve been holding in for days and resume torturing my shoe. “Uhm, I don’t know, I’ll have to see, I might be working that night. What day is it?”

“The 13th,” his voice drops about an octave, “and just what the fuck do you mean, you don’t know? Stoney’s gonna shit a brick if you if you miss it.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I glance back up at him and flinch at his menacing expression. “I don’t know. Things are just... weird… there... right now.”

“You and Stone? Seemed pretty okay a few nights ago.”

I cringe in immediate regret of how publicly cozy Stone and I had gotten on Halloween. And if that’s all Chris knows, then he doesn’t know the half of it…

“Yeah, well, I don’t know, it’s weird now.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?” Chris presses, shifting his posture to face me more directly and still glowering at me.

“The other day, before he went home with the flu or whatever, Jesus,” I pat the arm of the couch, “is this a witness stand or something?”

“Okay, okay,” his demeanor relaxes. “Just be there, okay? This whole thing, I mean, the vibe of working on it has been really overwhelmingly positive, but it’s the kind of thing that’s still… I don’t know, it’s just important to me that you’re there, I feel like you’d get something out of it. And whatever’s going on with Stone, I’m pretty sure it’s important to him too.”

“Okay,” I mumble, fighting back the lump again, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Chris bobs his head. “Flu, huh?”

“What? Oh, right. I don’t know, he just looked like death warmed over and I’m pretty sure he went home right after we talked.” Another twinge of regret twists my insides, this time because it hasn’t even occurred to me in all my anger to check in on Stone and see how he’s feeling. He looked really, really terrible. Fight or no fight, he’s still my friend, and if I were the one to contract whatever bubonic plague is going around, I know he would be the first one to make sure I was okay. Especially since I think his parents are still out of town, which leaves him all by himself trying to take care of that dog and house. Shit, I should probably go over there.

Chris doesn’t point any of that out, though, thankfully. Instead, he silently looks around my apartment with interest, seeming very much all of a sudden like a cocker spaniel with a very short attention span. For everything this friendship means, it’s kind of weirdly emblematic that he’s never even seen my place before.

“Chris?”

“Mm?” he responds, not looking away from the bookcase in the opposite direction.

“You didn’t come all the way over here just to see if I wanted to go hiking, did you?”

“Nah, I’m actually here to pick up Eddie, he said he’d go. I think I finally sold him on our mountain.”

“Judas!!”

I aim a kick square at his hip, laughing as he intercepts my foot and disarms it by yanking off my shoe and throwing it across the room where it thuds against the opening door, missing Eddie’s face by inches.

“Whoa-oh,” he calls as he flinches, but his dimples dawn as a smile draws on his mouth, “who the hell throws a fuckin shoe?”

Chris grins back, yanking off my other one to lob it at Ed’s face, but it’s caught easily. Eddie throws them both back to me in a pair of gentle underhand tosses.

“So you coming with us or what, Cora?”

“Nah, leave her for dead, she’s a lost cause,” Chris chuckles as he stands up.

“Gee golly, mister, can’t imagine why I wouldn’t want to go hiking with you,” I drawl. Eddie’s eyes bounce back and forth keenly.

“Well, uh, too bad, maybe another time?” he says softly as plaintive wrinkles appear on his forehead.

“You bet. Just, you know, the boyfriend’s on his way home and we’re gonna go running, so it’s not a great time.”

“Oh, alright,” Eddie nods, but the wrinkles deepen in a way that tells me he’s about as believing of my excuses as Chris.

“No Jeff?” Chris asks as they head for my front door.

“No, he said it sounded cool but he said he’s gonna help Lucy do some stuff around the apartment today.”

“I bet he is.”

“Okay, you pigs, get out,” I shove Chris in the back toward the door, throwing all my weight against him, although he digs in his heels and I have no hope of moving him unless he wants to be moved. “You kill any more fucking time and you’re gonna lose the light, you know.”

“She’s got a very good point,” Eddie agrees, and Chris unlocks his knees, laughing as I stumble to keep my footing.

I’ve just shooed the two of them out the door when Alex comes home, carrying borrowed running shoes and still exuding the same smothering, sycophantic energy as when he left. I’m feeling extraordinarily stupid for not calling Patch to sort this shit out when I had the chance. Maybe after the run. On the bright side, Alex is in terrible shape for such a beanpole, and I’m confident I can outrun him, or at least make him wheeze enough not to have to worry about making conversation.

***

My head swims from the fumes as I take another deep breath and force myself to steady the paint brush, even though my arm is starting to ache from reaching so high, and my knees are getting sore from balancing on the sink basin. Whose bright idea was it to repaint a room with so much trim all by herself with no ladder? Oh right, that would be me. The white noise of the bathroom fan blocks out everything except the exertion of doing the work properly and the joy of seeing a new color stain a primed surface. Even if I’m not sure about the color just yet. I’m not really a blue sort of person. But this feels like a direction I wanted to follow. Any of the weird “improvements” I’ve done to this place, I’ve done by following that urge. I accepted a long time ago that I wasn’t getting my security deposit back. It’s fine. I’m not good at coloring in the lines or making up my mind. Let me make my messes and see what happens. It usually cleans up okay.

I crawl off the sink, hastily wiping the smear of bright teal paint off the porcelain with the damp rag tucked into the waist of my shorts, and look around. It’s… very blue. But the cabinet’s dark stain doesn’t look so dingy next to it, and I’ve got plans for the mirror that should warm the room up a little more. I’m refilling the tray when I hear the apartment door open and close, the sound of hightops being nudged off, and the familiar beat of heavy footprints padding down the hall to find me. Just the sound of him in my apartment has always made the place feel brighter.

“Whoa,” Jeff’s rasp reverberates off the walls, “you weren’t kidding, that’s… that’s fuckin BLUE.”

“Too much?” I spin around to study his face as he studies the walls.

“Nah, it’s cool. Vivid. It’s very you.”

“Ooh, your stock is falling, Jeffrey, I was just thinking to myself that it might have been the wrong color.”

“Why?” he pulls the headband out of my hair and begins to kiss my temple, the outside edge of my ear, and down along my neck to my shoulder. It’s a struggle not to wrap myself up in him, but my hands are still covered in paint. I manage to resist that temptation, but talking remains a challenge.

“Blue’s, uhm, it’s kind of a bummer…”

“No, no way, it’s so… like… sensitive, and strong, and… okay, I’m babbling, but can you blame me…”

“Yeah… but… like… the trim’s kind of glaring now, I don’t know what to do about it…”

Time to abandon any pretense of thinking straight, now that he’s got his nose in my collarbone like this. Maybe he won’t mind a little paint on his jersey...

“So this is you staying close to home, huh?”

“What?”

“Cora, all that shit. You bailed on all my ideas for plans, remember? Wanted to stay close to home?”

I frown at him, wondering where he’s going with this. There’s that neediness again. It’s not like him at all. So far, we’ve always been able to strike the right balance naturally, without putting any thought into it. We’re together when we want to be, we have space when we want it. And lately, Jeff’s been throwing all that out of balance. I wish he’d just tell me what the fuck’s going on… I wish he’d stop kissing my ear like that, or I’d remember to ask him about it…

“I still do… I think that’s for the best. But, uh, there’s a lot we can do at home, though, right?”

“I have some ideas…”

Before I can respond with some cute, pithy bullshit, he’s spun me around like I weigh nothing at all and pinned me against the wall, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it’s still dripping with wet turquoise paint. But I don’t give a shit either. I manage to reach my bare foot out behind him and nudge the paint tray out of our reach, ease him over so we’re both standing on the dropcloth, and give in to the full force of his kiss, trying to plant my feet as much as I can because my back’s slipping sideways in the paint. But my effort is unnecessary, because I’m not going anywhere in his grip. His hand lands flat on the wall next to my head before raking blue paint through my hair and dragging blue fingerprints across my throat, and it’s a race to see who can get undressed enough, fast enough…

*

Winded, and thoroughly slathered in turquoise, we splay out on the soaked dropcloth in a blissful, painted pile.

“Well, at least now I know what to do about the fucking trim color,” I nod at the formerly crisp, white door frame, which is now coated in Smurfy fingerprints from our failed efforts to keep our balance.

“I dunno, it’s a nice artistic statement when paired with your vertebrae sliding down the wall,” his fingers point out the trajectory of my body.

“I think I’ll just do the trim and walls and ceiling all the same color. You know. Very Masque of the Red Death.”

“Gothic, I like it.” He sighs, letting his head fall back and his eyes close. I squelch a little closer, remembering that we still have unfinished business.

“Jeff.”

“Present,” he sighs, not opening his eyes.

“Just checking.” Somehow, I still can’t bring myself to spit it out. “Uhm, you still willing to help me finish painting?”

“What else am I gonna do,” he muses with a contended smile.

After a farcical attempt at cleaning ourselves up, we continue to paint, halfway dressed, until the entire room is saturated in turquoise. My every pore and mucous membrane sympathizes.

“Anyone ever told you you’re a disaster with a paint brush?” he teases, watching me try to wash the paint from deep under my fingernails in the sink.

“Oh, yeah, it’s on my resume, actually.”

“Smartass,” he reaches out with a menacing blue paw, attempting to smear the arm I’ve just washed off, but I manage to dodge him.

“Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me,” I taunt, feinting left and then right.

“Ugh, work work work,” he gives a gravelly laugh and abandons all pretense of not being able to catch me, wrapping me up once again and finding my mouth with his. But that annoying thought that there’s something we’re not saying still won’t leave me alone.

“Hey, hey, Jeff?” I kiss him back lightly but maintain my ground, until he finally quits and looks at me in confusion. “Why… uh, why don’t you just fucking say it?”

His grip on me lightens and his jaw falls slack, confirming that I was right to press the issue, that it wasn’t just my issue. I persist, “I know you’re all pissed about not making plans this weekend, I know you’ve got something you want to say to me, there’s some occasion you’re trying to manufacture, and either you’re really terrible at breaking up with me or it’s something I really want to hear, so either way, can you just spit it out already?”

Jeff’s shocked stare makes me wish immediately that I hadn’t said anything, damn it Lucy, things were fine, why did you have to put him on edge, here we go, the other shoe’s bound to drop, he’s gonna break up with me, come on, let’s just get it over with…

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he starts to pull himself together, making my stomach lurch and my shoulders tighten as I brace for the bad news. “Uh, I just… I really fucking love you. A lot.”

Now it’s my turn to gape like a fucking idiot.

“You what?”

“Yeah, Luce, I love you, and I’ve been thinking it, like, forever, and I just… I don’t know why I didn’t say it already, maybe I just assumed you already knew or something, because we’ve been so good at like, not needing to say the obvious thing… but I’m kinda tired of not saying the obvious thing, because we’re not promised anything, and I’m tired of taking it for granted, so... I love you, and I don’t want to spend my time with anyone else, and I don’t want to have to walk downstairs to see you in the morning, it’s just too fucking far, okay?”

My mind is full of stammering thoughts as I turn over the logistics of what he’s just said, but all that I can manage to say out loud through the grin splitting my face is, “I love you too,” as I pull him into a still-not-quite pigment-free kiss.

***

This. This is what dying feels like. I’m sure of it. Oh, yuck, I’m pretty certain the color coming out of my lungs does not occur in nature. Dark. Why is it so dark in here? What the hell time is it? Jesus, I slept the entire fucking day, that's just grand...

At least there's no one around to witness how pathetic I probably look right now. This whole flu thing's not very big on dignity. Although, who am I kidding, I'd wear a robe and slippers everywhere if it was socially acceptable, and I’d kill for someone to bring me a cup of tea so I don’t have to slither out of this bed and get it myself. My fever finally broke this morning, in a disgusting, sweaty miracle, which is a mixed blessing because it's nice not to feel like a shivery rag doll anymore, but now my sheets smell like gross fever sweat and not the much more pleasant smell left behind on my pillow by Cora the other night. I wish her hair didn't smell so damn good all the time. It's really fucking inconvenient.

Ow. Crap. Dehydration headache. One of the downfalls of attempted hibernation. With a chorus of my most pathetic whines, I manage to get myself out of bed and over to the kitchen to nuke a cup of water for some tea. Just as I’m steeping the bag, though, there’s a knock on my door. Fucking great. I wasn’t serious about actually wanting someone around… unless it’s…

“Hello?” I croak, wincing at my sore throat.

“Stoney! You live!”

“Cornell?”

“You gonna let me in or what?”

“I don’t know, how’s your immune system?”

“Strong, like ox.”

Laughing and coughing, I open the door to let Chris in. He shoves a box of tissues into my chest and blows past me to set a quart container of some kind of murky liquid, which I eye suspiciously.

“Hot and sour soup, from Grand Palace. Foolproof cold remedy, I’m pretty convinced this shit cures cancer, or at least ebola or something. Cora told me you looked like death warmed over. Girl doesn’t lie.”

“Oh, uh, you… you talked to Cora?” I pick up the soup and inspect it more closely.

“Yeah, I, uh, talked to Cora.”

“Hmm.”

“Dude, eat something, it’s not gonna kill you.”

“Doubtful.”

“Pansy.”

“Pusher.”

My laughter dissolves into a choked cough again as Chris saunters over to the cabinet like he owns the place and grabs a couple of bowls.

“Hey, let’s sit out on the steps, it’ll help the black lung.” He hands me a bowl of soup and, in no position to argue, I snag the blanket from the back of my couch to wrap around my shoulders as I follow him onto the landing outside my front door where we sit and dangle our feet over the edge, like little kids. I’m feeling too rundown to admit it, but he’s right -- my chest feels better within seconds.

“Eat, man, eat, you’re looking so thin you’re gonna blow away out here.”

“Who died and made you my grandma?”

“I prefer the philanthropic, mysterious stranger vibe, but have it your way.”

I try a bit of the soup, which sticks in my gullet after a day of not eating or drinking, and I sputter into another full-body coughing fit.

“Gahh, why’s it so… viscous??”

“It’s the viscosity,” Chris beams, slurping up another spoonful. “Coats the throat, or something.”

“Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls,” I choke, but the soup’s actually pretty good and not too heavy, so I have some more. We sit in silence for a while, which is one of the things I’ve always appreciated about Chris, before I pipe up against my better judgement.

“So,” I have to clear my throat again, “uh, how’s, how’s Cora?”

“She’ll be alright, I think. Seems pretty unhappy with you.”

“That makes it a day that ends in -y.”

“But she’s fine. Tried to get her to go hiking today, but she was going running with that Alex guy.”

“You don’t say.” Alex and physical exertion? What the fuck? Is this a fever dream, still?  

“Seemed weird, I mean, he doesn’t really come along for a lot, she does a lot on her own. And she didn’t seem too excited about the idea of him tagging along, I dunno.”

“Would you be excited about trying to outrun a wart on your ass?”

“Ouch. So, you hate him, yeah?”

“It’s not that I hate the guy, necessarily…” Chris’s eyebrows shoot up as I continue, “...just… you know… kinda always wanted to buy him a toaster for his bathtub.”

He tosses me a pity laugh. “Yeah, well, she’s not an idiot, don’t think she hasn’t picked up on that. Whatever the hell’s going on with you two, you can’t ignore him.”

“You’re telling me.” I hold up my hand to shush him when I hear the phone ring, and we both listen as the garbled sound of my answering machine comes through the door, but there’s no message.

“Stoney, what the hell happened, anyway?”

I squint at his face for a moment, torn between not wanting to drag everyone into this little drama that’s been playing out with Cora and actually wanting to talk to a friend about it. Jeff and Cready were zero help, but Chris has always been a better listener for the heavy stuff.

“We… kinda… I mean, she stayed over the other night, and…”

Chris’s eyes widen and his jaw drops, although he can barely contain the laughter that accompanies his surprise. “Oh!” he exclaims with glee. “You’re idiots!”

“Okay, (a), thanks man, good talk, real supportive. And (b), why are we idiots, exactly?”

“You slept with her even though you knew it was a bad idea! That's not like you. That's like something Mike would do. Or me. You’ve always got all the angles figured out. And Cora, she's like, got her shit together more than any of the rest of us. She should have known better.” He frowns, drumming his empty spoon on his kneecap.

“Yeah, well, she's sorta… new at this. And anyway we didn’t actually sleep together, alright, I mean, we slept together but not like you’re thinking.”

“Reeeeal convincing, Stone,” he teases. “Whaddya mean she’s new at this? Haven’t she and that guy been together since, like the dawn of time?”

“Yeah, but like, that’s it, that’s her whole story, and I think… I think she and I have something really good, and I think she knows that, but it probably really freaks her out to think about ending anything that’s been, you know, such a fixture for so long. I don’t know, I’m probably not making any sense.”

“More than you know. Just give her time, man. She thinks the world of you, and it really pisses her off to admit it. That’s a good thing, it’ll still be there after she figures out the whole ‘first love’ thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I whine, which devolves into more coughing, which cycles back into even more whining.

“On the bright side, you’ve really perfected that Tibetan throat-singing technique,” Chris cracks as he stands up. “You’d better get back inside. Anything I can do to help while I’m here?”

“Nah, thanks, the toxic sludge seems to be working, I’m feeling a little better already.”

Chris claps me on the back, betrays the slightest slip of a smile, and starts down the staircase without another word. I let myself back inside, free to moan and groan as much as I like in the absence of anyone to make fun of me for it, and shuffle my way over to the answering machine. The first message is pure auditory chaos, but through the cacophony, I gather that Mudhoney’s on a tour stop in Tijuana and that my answering machine tape should probably be burned after I listen to the message so as not to implicate anyone in a felony. The usual. That’s got to have been from earlier today and not just now -- Chris and I would have heard that excitement through the door for sure, but I wouldn’t put it past myself to have slept through it this afternoon. Whatever. I delete their message and listen to the second, much quieter one.

“Hey, Stone? uh…”  Cora’s hushed voice is interrupted by Alex calling her name in the background. I hear her give a sharp inhale, followed by a click, and that’s all.

#hey. does anyone still read this thing? #here's a thing i wrote. it's not great but after two months i give you what i can #chapter 23 #behind the sun #fanfiction #fanfic #eddie vedder #chris cornell #jeff ament #stone gossard #pearl jam

[jakey-beefed-it]

Tell us about modern AU versions of your characters. Book, D&D, videogames, whichever, any/all you've thought of before.

aww jeez

Well, ages and ages ago, when they were Exalted characters rather than Novel characters (and pretty different tbh) we spitballed a whole High School AU for Varian, Verity, and a few others who have changed beyond recognition. So I’m gonna run with the ‘High School AU’ for my novel, I guess?

It’s a religious High School, probably Catholic, because of course it is.

Verity is a Junior with a staggering workload of AP classes AND sudent council AND varsity tennis AND lead in choir AND plays ably in a little taiko drumming group she blundered into one day. She’s on track to be Extremely Successful(TM) and the faculty all love her and hold her up as the Perfect Example, which always feels weird to her because she’s... just not especially religious. Her dad (who was also fuckmazing in HS and went on to be a pro tennis AND chess player) just wants her to be happy instead of overstressed and she’s kinda low-key panicking because she’s never actually thought about what would make her happy and if it’s not Extreme Success(TM) then what the hell even is it?! Furthermore, the whole faculty seem to be... entirely disinterested in their students’ wellbeing and only care about good test scores which... she’s starting to read some sociology for a summer class at the local JC and that seems kinda Fucked Up. 

Varian is a Senior who just does not give a fuck about ‘success’. He’d be a shoe-in for ‘coolest kid on campus’ but he doesn’t care about that either. He spent his youth being Extremely Motivated and Gifted and just... burnt the fuck out sometime around sophomore year, and turned full-on punk-rock. Even learned to play guitar well enough to win a few local contests, but hasn’t met a band he clicks with. Since then he’s taken on increasingly alarming anti-establishment attitudes and worse yet he’s encouraged them in others. All the faculty basically think he’s destined to wind up in jail. They’d put him there themselves if they could catch him doing anything illegal or against school policy. Sometimes he jokes about dropping out and going to Rojava to fight alongside other anti-fascist volunteers against ISIS. At least people hope he’s joking. But he probably won’t, because he’s actually in the Big Brother program and there’s this adorable little kid (daughter of refugees who got deported, is the story he finally got out of the program) he’s mentoring, and well, shit, somebody’s got to be a stable good influence for the kid. There’s exactly ONE faculty member he respected, and she fuckin QUIT rather than continue with the bullshit. 

Makara is a former nun, who used to teach ethics and history at the school. She also coached wrestling. I mean, she did have that Olympic bronze medal in Judo, ya know? After one too many fights with the fucking priests who ran the place, and getting no help at all from anyone else on staff or in the church, she quit both. She runs the Big Brother/Sister program, as well as having set up her own dojo that does a lot of good diverting potential ‘delinquent’ kids like Varian into constructive activities.

The Dean of Discipline is Father Thorne, who is just the worst. He’s a zealot, of course, which is annoying enough, but worse is his proclivity to “run a tight ship” meaning he prefers absolute compliant silence and sublimated misery in his student body. He gives out excessive punishments for even minor infractions, especially to the few non-Catholic kids who go to the school for the academics. Despite this he has a devoted following of bootlicks and tattletales among the more obnoxious students.

I could go on and on like this but I’ll restrict myself to cramming in a few of my other PCs from rpgs and such.

Altanin plays football (ridiculously well) and wrestles (very well) and runs track (pretty well) and is fairly shy for such a big moose, though he’s a surprising amount of fun at parties. He sort of baffles the tattletale bunch by being a highly visible Star Athlete for the school, who is always fairly well-spoken and reasonably well behaved, but also who is rumored to have literally picked up four drunken classmates and run them through the woods to get away from the cops so they wouldn’t get in trouble. When the cops talked to him, he was comically tight-lipped, to the point where he would only shrug to any question they put to him. He passed his breathalyzer (having already metabolized like, half a keg, according to rumors around the school) and his foster parents were able to pick him up. All he’s ever said about the topic is “I don’t snitch.”

Kallten doesn’t go to the school, but he does go to Makara’s dojo. He’s the senior student there, with a black belt of course. He’s also weirdly good at kendo. His family are involved in organized crime, and he realllly doesn’t want any part of that. All he wants to do is hang around the girls’ juvenile prison/school and flirt with this one really cute smartass. So what if she stole some fuckin arrowheads? She’s native, man, she’s got more right to ‘em than the museum.

Alejandro is an exchange student from Mexico. He can speak English more or less flawlessly but does a pretty credible Antonio Banderas accent and tries to pass it off as his own in the hopes that it will make him seem sexier. He tells everyone his family is descended from Spanish Nobility who fled from Franco, despite that being completely obvious bullshit to anyone who knows anything about it. He plays the flamenco guitar and dresses in better clothes than he can probably afford to pull off the ‘vibe’ he’s going for. Back in Mexico he was something of a nerd, but hey, new land, new self!

#motheatenscarf

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

No Romo - chapter 2

Long overdue new chapter, and it’s almost the end of Aro/Ace August already, oops! Anyway have some more of the museum kids being best friends

AO3 | 1

“I’m pretty sure Juleka’s about to get akumatized,” Nathaniel said, sitting down on the steps in front of Alix. “Rose was telling me about it. Apparently Juleka missed the class photo because she got locked in the toilets. By Chloé, of course.”

He had opened his little sketchpad on his knees and taken a pencil out from behind his ear. Alix leaned over to watch what he was drawing – now that she was part of the art club, she tended to spend a lot of time watching Nath work on his art. Not only was it helpful to learn new skills, but it was an excuse to hang out with him even more. These days she used pretty much any chance she could get to talk to him.

“What kind of akuma villain do you think she’ll be?” she asked. “Juleka’s all gothy, right? Maybe she’ll be a vampire or something.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Nath was drawing a figure outline on his sketchpad, his red fringe falling over his face as he looked down at it. “Her eyes are already red. Maybe her skin will be deathly pale, though, like a sheet. And she’ll have those vampire fangs.”

“And a cape. Vampires have capes, right?”

“I think it depends on the vampire. But yeah, I’ll give her a cape.” He added a loose triangle onto the back of the figure. “One of those big collars, too. Wait… will she sparkle? Is she one of those vampires?”

Alix shrugged. “I have no idea what her opinion is on sparkling vampires.”

Nath paused to think for a second, before shaking his head. “Nope. No sparkles. I can’t be bothered to draw them.”

He had a grin on his face now, and Alix continued to watch him draw with interest. These days he was much more open with her than he used to be, cracking jokes and encouraging her ridiculous sense of humour. She hadn’t realized quite how attached to him she had become until she found herself paying attention to him even when he wasn’t interacting with her. More outspoken now, he talked to other members of their class fairly often, and it was all too easy to let her focus rest on them, all the way on the other side of the room, than on whatever work she was supposed to be doing.

Why did she even find him so cool in the first place? She couldn’t put her finger on it. But it was undeniable – Nathaniel was absolutely, definitely, 100% the coolest kid in her class. He had to be. Why else would she be so dead-set on being best friends with him? No one else in the class was worth quite that much effort, even though they were all pretty cool too.

“What kind of powers would she have?” Nath continued, head resting on his arm as he carried on sketching. “I guess there’s always biting people, like actual vampires do, but that would be kinda, uh… weird. Hawk Moth hasn’t been giving people overly weird powers yet.”

“Well vampires don’t have reflections,” Alix suggested. “And Juleka’s got that curse thing where she doesn’t show up in photos, right? So maybe she’ll curse everyone else to have no reflections or appearances in photos, something like that.”

“Hmm. That would make sense. Though it’s not a very aggressive power, is it? It’ll take forever for Ladybug and Chat Noir to notice something like that.”

“True…”

He suddenly held up the sketchpad at her, a sunny smile on his face. “Done! What do you think?”

It was a quick little sketch, unmistakeably Juleka, but seemingly dressed more like Count Dracula. Alix nodded, smiling back. “Perfect. I bet that’s exactly what she’s gonna look like.”

“We’ll just wait and see, then…”

At that moment there were shocked gasps from others in the courtyard. Alix and Nath turned to see that an akuma villain had just landed, one that was now making an announcement, and sure enough that was Juleka’s voice echoing through the school – a crueller version, but certainly her.

And she looked nothing like a vampire whatsoever.

“Welp, we were so wrong,” Alix muttered.

“Yep.” Nath ripped out the piece of paper and scrunched it up. “So, so wrong.”

“I wasn’t expecting a giant pink clown.”

“That’s the last thing I was expecting.”

“I’m gonna say it. She looks ridiculous.”

“Hard agreed.”

“Uh, she’s zapping people, do you think we should get out of here or…?”

“Shit, yeah. See you in art club later!”

Nathaniel leapt to his feet and sped off. For a second Alix had to restrain her laughter – she’d never heard Nath swear before! He had always seemed like one of those goody-two-shoes kids who wouldn’t curse if you paid them. But evidently all he needed was to be around someone he was comfortable with. Like her.

A shot from evil Juleka zoomed past her shoulder, jolting her out of her thoughts. Oh yeah, akuma attack. She needed to get away. Being turned into a weird pink clown clone was not on her to-do list today.

-

-

It was much later than usual when the members of her class finally made it to art club. After Reflekta’s attack, everyone had banded together to help take a proper class photo with Juleka in it, which took up quite a lot of time. Alix didn’t mind at all, though. Juleka was a pretty cool friend too, it just seemed right to help her feel better. Or maybe Alix was just getting friendlier in general these days.

“Alix, there you are!” Nath was already sitting at the table and waving her over. She hurried to join him.

“Dude, you didn’t wait for me at the park–”

“I had to get my surprise for you ready.”

“Surprise…?”

He tapped the little sketchbook that was on the desk. “I’ve been working on a new comic idea, and I think you’ll like this one.”

A new comic? Yes! Nath’s comics these days were always fun to read, now that they weren’t just pages and pages of self-indulgent Nathanette fluff.

“Is it another superhero one?” she asked.

“No, it’s… um…” He lowered his voice. “Look, I know I’m not really good at coming up with story ideas, and so much of what I draw is all sappy and lovey-dovey and you’re not into that stuff.”

“Who cares if I’m not into it? Just draw what you want.”

“What I want is to draw something you’ll like! So here, I did this…” Nath opened the sketchbook to show her the first page. “It’s a soulmate AU, but from the point-of-view of someone who’s aromantic.”

Just hearing the words “soulmate AU” had already set Alix’s brain to fight mode, at least, until the second part of that sentence registered in her brain. An aromantic character, in a soulmate AU? Surely those things were mutually exclusive. She looked at the page to see Nath’s artwork of the aromantic protagonist, a moody-looking girl with frizzy green hair.

“In this AU,” he continued, turning the page, “people see hearts when they fall in love, and red hearts if it’s their soulmate. This character has never seen the hearts, though, and it’s highly unusual to have reached her age without seeing them even once. She wonders what’s wrong.”

There were more sketches on these pages, fit into comic-style panels with captions over the top. The moody girl was even grumpier now, her peers all swooning over invisible hearts while she looked on from the corner, unable to understand what she was missing.

“But sometimes, when she looks at people, she sees stars. She doesn’t really tell anyone. Until…”

He turned over another page. The girl was no longer moody – all of a sudden her eyes were wide in surprise, and the panel around her filled with golden sparkles.

“…one day she meets someone, and for the first time, she sees bright yellow stars. It’s never happened before. And this person sees the yellow stars too when they meet her. They’ve seen hearts before, but never stars like this.”

Sure enough, the page was covered in glittering stars. It looked like Nath had got a yellow gel pen and just gone wild with it. The girl and her new acquaintance both appeared in awe of what they were seeing, stars around them everywhere.

“And then, uh… well I haven’t thought so much about this part but I guess they make best friends forever and live happily ever after. The girl realizes she can be happy without romance and the only reason she was miserable before was because everyone else was making her feel that way. Or something. You’re the aro one, you can help me with the inner turmoil bit.” He closed the sketchbook and turned to look at her. “So, what do you think?”

What did she think? Well, considering how much she was having to internally restrain herself from just glomping him in a hug and never letting go…

“It’s awesome!” She settled for giving him a little punch on the arm instead. “Seriously, you’re really gonna make a comic about that?”

“Yeah! I really need to branch out and draw comics about characters who don’t have love interests. Well… romantic love interests, I mean. Friendship is fine.” He blushed a little. “Actually, it’s kind of for me. I was really heartbroken for a while after the Evillustrator thing, and I need to remind my brain that it’s okay to focus more on friends, than on… Marinette…”

His voice had gone rather quiet, considering that Marinette herself was in the room.

“Are you still into her?” Alix asked.

“I… I don’t think so.”

“Then you should make friends with her too.”

He blushed even more. “I’m not really good at making friends.”

“Are you sure?” Alix said, putting an arm around him. “Because you seem to be doing an awesome job at making friends with me so far. I mean, convincing me to join art club? Drawing the aro comic thing? Nerf gun battles? Dude, you are top notch friendship material. Best friendship material. I really mean it.”

He seemed quite taken aback by her compliments for a few seconds. Alix herself was surprised too – she didn’t tend to say things like that directly to people’s faces, usually too wary that being overly nice might be mistaken for flirting, which was just… ew. But at least Nathaniel would properly understand the sentiment.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “If I could make friends with you, I can make proper friends with Marinette too.”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!”

“Thanks, Alix. And…” He gave her a sunny smile and put the sketchbook in her hands. “Thanks for being my friend. You’re top notch friendship material too. Making this comic with you is gonna be so much fun.”

Top notch friendship material… man, it was so nice to hear someone other than Jalil saying that. Pretty much everyone else in the class already had their own top notch friend, and there was no room for Alix there except as an undignified third wheel, a hanger-on, uninvited and unwelcome. Now Nath had changed all that.

She watched as he got up and went to go compliment Marinette on whatever fashion thing she was working on. He still seemed quite shy, but at least Marinette was one of the nicest members of the class, even going so far as to organize Juleka’s rescheduled class photo earlier. It wouldn’t be difficult for them to make friends.

Alix flicked through Nath’s sketchbook, taking a closer look at the draft work for his new comic. He really was very good at art, wasn’t he? This green-haired girl looked real enough to leap out of the page any second.

You’re the aro one, you can help me with the inner turmoil bit. So he wanted her help with story advice. That, she could definitely offer. There were too many stories to tell, stories of angst, frustration, disbelief, confusion, tears… the usual run-of-the-mill depressing aro experiences. Plenty of those to pick from, unfortunately.

This green-haired girl, though. Something about her seemed familiar to Alix. Nath didn’t base the character on her, did he…?

-

-

-

-

Nathaniel worked hard on his comic. He worked hard on all his comics, of course, but this felt different. This time he wasn’t just drawing to cater to his own whims. This time he wanted it to be a present for Alix.

There were too many reasons to pinpoint just one. There was the fact that they were pretty much best friends at this point, true. There was also the fact that both of them being ace gave him a sort of connection to her that was hard to describe in words. Was “ace solidarity” a thing? It sure felt like it.

And she inspired him. It had been so long since he’d had a close friend that he was used to keeping to himself all the time. Even now he was still quiet, of course, but things were different. He could casually chat with the rest of his classmates without the nerves to accompany it. He felt freer to say what was on his mind, to share his true feelings.

He still wished he could be more like her. How amazing would it be to be as cool as someone like her? As much as he tried, he couldn’t do it. But then maybe that was a good thing. After all, she seemed to like hanging out with him just the way he was.

-

-

“How is it?” he asked as she read the finished comic in her room one day after school. “Is it good? Should I change anything?”

There was a spark in her eyes. “Dude, this is so cool! I love it!”

“You do?”

“Hell yes!” Within a second she had put down the comic and clung onto him in a hug. Considering how small she was, it was… kind of adorable, actually. Like a koala on a tree. “Listen, I’m… I’m not a huggy person, so don’t get used to this. But uh… if you ever need anything, like ever, at all, I will help you with it. Up to and including murder.”

He gladly hugged her back. “What, because I drew a comic for you?”

“Because you drew something that’s more relatable than anything else,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “It’s hard to get into stuff when everything’s so damn shippy all the time. But you went out of your way to do this for me, so yeah. Thank you. I will lay down my life for you in the skeleton war.”

Nath grinned and gave her hair a ruffle. “I forbid you from sacrificing yourself in the skeleton war. But I’m really happy you liked the comic.”

“The main character, is she based on… um, anyone you know?”

“Yes, that’s you.”

“I knew it! So the guy she makes friends with, is that you?”

He simply shrugged, though the answer was a resounding yes. From the way she was looking at him, he could tell that she knew it perfectly well. It had been pretty obvious. Maybe it would be best to keep this particular comic just between the two of them for now.

“Anyway, you need any help with anything?” Alix asked. “Not murder or skeleton wars, I know. But really, I’ll do my best to help.”

“Nah, I don’t think there’s anything I need help with right now, unless you can come up with an idea for a new comic…”

“The adventures of Alix and Nathaniel sock-sliding around the Louvre after hours and avoiding security.”

“Uh… was that a suggestion for a comic, or a suggestion for real life?”

“Both.” She had a smirk on her face now. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you drawing the Louvre in the backgrounds of all your drawings, you know.”

“Well, it’s easy to draw…”

That was only partially true. Yes, a quick sketch of the iconic pyramid was easier than bothering with a proper detailed background, but the truth was that this place was starting to feel like a second home to him. The art exhibits had always had a soft spot in his heart, but now this area did too. The Kubdel quarters.

“But yes, let’s go sock-sliding!” he said quickly.

“Yeah! And let’s not get caught this time…”

“I’ll be stealthier now, I swear…”

He kicked off his shoes and followed her out of her room, looking forward to this. Silly adventure shenanigans were a lot more fun than he used to think – but then maybe that was because he was with Alix.

-

-

It was a while before her offer for help was actually needed. Those several weeks were some of the best yet – Nath worked on new comics, became more sure of himself, made friends with more of his classmates, and even made friends with people outside his class. Like Marc, that blushy new kid in the art club who was even shyer than him.

That didn’t last.

It was all that diary’s fault. “Ladybug’s” diary. Marinette had given it to him, and she was friends with Alya, who ran the Ladyblog, right? She could feasibly have acquired such a thing, right? Nath didn’t have any reason to doubt that this was the real, legit diary of Ladybug. He expected it to be.

So when it turned out to be Marc…

It was strange how, when in a situation where Nath was not the shyest one around, it was so easy to become complacent. To lose his temper. To assume the worst. It reminded him all too clearly of his birthday, where Chloé had taken his sketchbook and made a fool of him in class, announcing his crush on Marinette to the world, followed by Evillustrator being betrayed by the girl of his dreams.

Was this Marinette’s revenge? Was she teaming up with Marc to make a fool of Nath again?

Please pick up, please pick up…

He held his phone to his ear as he strode towards the Louvre, having left Marc back at the park with that stupid diary. His brain still wasn’t working right – well, it didn’t seem to work right around Marc anyway for some odd reason, but that was beside the point. The blind panic that this situation had put him in, that he was being humiliated again, it was impossible to control, and he just needed to talk to–

“Hey Nath, what’s up?”

“Oh Alix, thank god you’re there!” He clutched the phone tighter, his pace increasing. “Are you at the Louvre right now? Can I come over?”

“Sure, what’s wrong?”

Could she tell from his voice? Maybe she could. “I need to talk about something that just happened, I… I’m scared I’m gonna get akumatized again, I’m just in such a bad mood…”

“Aw man, what happened?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there. See you soon.”

“Alright, take care of yourself…”

He hung up and hurried on. Even despite all his new friendships recently, they were all seeming so superficial right now. Any one of his classmates could suddenly turn on him, the way Marinette and Marc had just done. Taking advantage of his feelings. Playing a cruel trick on him.

And yet… he still trusted Alix. Somehow, instinctively, he found himself gravitating towards the Louvre – the one place where he always felt welcome no matter what, where he could let his guard down and just be himself without any worries clouding his mind. He used to wonder if it was the feeling of being in a museum, surrounded by art, that put him at ease. Now, he was beginning to believe it was more to do with the tiny little lifesaver who “allegedly” lived there.

Alix was his best friend. If there was anyone he could turn to for help, it was her. He never had been any good at letting his guard down, but for once in his life he needed to confide in someone. She had promised to help him, and he was counting on that.

#i probably won't get this finished in august but eh whatever #miraculous ladybug #aro ace august #alix kubdel #nathaniel kurtzberg #cinnamon roll tomato cutie #museum brotp #miraculace #random stuff #aish writes