#literally the mullet made my month | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelkissiies · 1 year

Text

what? like it’s hard?

abby anderson x reader

cw : hockey ! abby , implied bimbo ! reader , reader x platonic ! dina , mentions of smoking weed , hockey explanations , movie moments

wc : 1.4k

a / n : i ,, do not have much to say about this fic. this is my first fic in like literally a month and im so sorry for my absence. i kinda just. wrote something. i do not know if it’s good, but it exists so !!

The sound of the announcer echoing through the rink tore your gaze from the cloudy bathroom mirror, your manicured hands moving to collect all of the supplies from the counter space– shoving it all haphazardly into a baby pink makeup bag before rushing to push through the slightly ajar bathroom door. You’d taken the time before the start of the game to primp– knowing your girlfriend, she had this match in the bag, so that meant you wanted to look extra pretty for the obligatory celebration afterward.

From the heavy black coat of mascara on your lashes to the glittery pink shadow decorating your eyelids, you’d gone all out. Some would say this was overkill but you couldn't bring yourself to mind, taking any and every opportunity to bring out the custom jersey she’d commissioned for you– the perfect addition to your outfit, as it sported the schools signature logo and her last name in bold letters on the back, the only difference from the normal jerseys was the color. A soft baby pink instead of the harsh black and white that was uniform with the team. It was a statement piece, in both yours and Abby’s eyes. You were branded by the team captain and she made sure everybody could see it.

You pushed through the crowd, shuffling in beside a girl you recognized from the party last weekend, giving her a small smile as you let your bag come to rest on the floor beside the seat. You sunk into the cold plastic, crossing your legs as you brought out your phone to check your socials.

“Hey, sorry, you’re Abby’s girlfriend right?” The girl beside you asked in a hushed voice, the heat of her stare making you turn to look at her.

You nodded, glossy lips pulling into a tiny smile as you peered at her curiously. For the life of you, you couldn’t remember her name, only remembering the people she was with. A tall mullet dude and Ellie, only knowing her through a need to buy from someone that wasn’t trying to get into your pants. “Yeah, how come?” You spoke, letting the screen dim as you rested the phone on your thigh.

The brunette shook her head slightly, glancing from you to the competing teams. “I was just wondering, do you know how all of this works?” Her hands rose to wave towards the ice, eyes coming to lock back on yours. “My girlfriend is really into it but I can’t figure out what’s going on, I've never been a sporty girl.”

“Oh yeah! I’m not a sporty kinda girl either but I've picked up a ton from listening to Bee talk about it,” You began, the wheels in your head beginning to turn as you moved to rest a hand on hers. “But first, could you remind me of your name? I’m so sorry, It completely slipped my mind, I know we've met before.”

The girl laughed, nodding as she tucked a wisp of black hair behind her ear. “Of course, that party was insane– I don't blame you for not remembering. It’s Dina, Dina Woodward.” Her attention was torn from you as a sharp whistle ripped from the referee, marking the face-off. “Okay, so– what is going on? What are they doing?”

Your eyes moved from hers, filling with a realization as you settled back into your seat, moving slightly to lean towards her as you pointed to the two players standing before each other. “Alright so, those two are gonna be doing something called– uh,” You paused, a tiny gasp leaving your mouth before you continued. “scrapping! They have to win a position for their team. So the ref is gonna drop it between them and they’re gonna try to get it!”

Dina nodded, brows furrowed as she watched the two girls duck down– just inches from the face of the ice as the puck dropped between them. Her mouth opened and then closed again as the puck was caught by the opposing team, her gaze tearing away to look at you. “D-does that mean we lose? What did that do?”

“They just have the upper hand, babe.” You giggled, nodding back towards the ice– where a now disgruntled Abby was moving against the other team, her stick coming to swipe the puck from their grasp. “It doesn’t take much to get it back, especially against them.” You gave her a sly look, fluttering your heavy lashes as you hinted at the less-than-competence of the opponents. “Abby says that their captain paid her way onto the team, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

A choked chuckle left the girl's mouth as she shook her head, toying with the bracelet dangling from her wrist. “You get all of the hockey drama, don’t you?”

You shrugged in faux innocence, twirling a free strand of hair around your fingers as you squinted toward the ice– trying to pick out another victim of the rumor train. “Let me tell you everything! Like,” You paused, pointing out a girl towards the back. “Her! You’re not gonna believe this but–”

The game passed before the two of you, all but ignored, as you filled her in on the most important parts of the hockey scene. From why Abby didn’t acknowledge Jenna to the rumors surrounding the legitimacy of the financial situation of your opponents, it was an hour of nonstop talking as she clung to every word.

On the other side of the room, an exhausted Abby dug her skates into the ice– turning to launch the puck into the opposing team's net, just barely missing the stick of the goalie. Her blonde hair was sticking out wildly from under her helmet, the braid coming undone from the constant brutality from the opposition, a hand coming up to push it down as a loud buzzer sounded– the crowd erupting in cheers. Her chest heaved as she pushed off, a triumphant smirk pulling at her lips as she glanced around the room for you.

Your attention was ripped from the girl when the buzzer sounded, wide eyes looking around to the scoreboard before popping out of your seat- dragging Dina to her feet as well. “They won, We won! Dina!” You squealed, shaking her gently as you pointed to the winning score– a solid 2 to 5.

Dina looked beyond confused for a moment before nodding, a screen replaying the final goal. “It was Abby too! Abby got the winning goal!” She gushed, an excited smile rising on her lips as she directed her gaze from the screen to the ice, seeing the blonde kicking off her skates before exiting the rink– it being her turn to shake you as she turned you in the girl's direction.

Abby pushed through the gaps of the crowd, ignoring the congratulations from the onlooking fans as she kept her eyes locked on you, her helmet was the first thing discarded– a mess of blonde waves hanging loosely around her shoulders now, braid long forgotten. “Angel,” She breathed, coming to stop before you, her hands navigating to your hips as she effortlessly lifted you off of your feet– her lips crashing into your glossy ones, the taste of cherry making her groan into your mouth lightly.

Your hands shot to her neck, smiling onto her lips as you squeezed her closer, ignoring the obvious stares from the people around you. “Abby,” You hummed, pulling away for a second to breathe, when she pressed another kiss to your lips– shushing you for another moment before pulling away, giving you a small nod to continue. “Good fucking job, baby!” You whispered, earning a chortle from the girl as she released you back onto your feet.

Dina coughed slightly, a hand covering her mouth to muffle the giggling. “Not to ruin the moment, but I think you might be needed.” She hummed, pointing over to the exasperated ref attempting to wave down the blonde.

“Oh, thanks–?”

You pushed the girl back towards the rink entrance, “Her name is Dina, now go!” You sighed, shaking your head as you took a couple of steps back towards your seat, moving a hand to wipe the smeared lip gloss from your lips, watching the blonde push back through the crowd to deal with the disgruntled ref. “So, do you wanna come with us after this? There's always a celebratory party after big wins, we could toke up and I could give you the rest of the hockey drama.”

“There's more? Oh fuck yeah, count me in.”

914 notes · View notes

gardnhee · 2 months

Text

can we start over? - c.yj

✸ tw/content. intentional lowercase, cussing, angst(very little), fluff, use of baby (only like once or twice.), reader is slightly antisocial in the beginning, not really proofread

✸ exbsf!yj x afab!reader

✸ note. yj drabble cs i love him an unhealthy amount

✸ song rec. start over - jacquees

you stood in a corner like the awkward person that you are. away from all the chatter, laughter, yelling, and horny crowd. this is how you liked it, you indulged in your solitude.

the unbearably loud music rang in your ears, the fact that you were standing just a couple feet from the speakers didn’t help either.

you decided to drown the ringing by taking a sip of your cup, inhaling a sharp breath as the liquid cascaded down your throat.

“…who hired this dj? music’s unbearable…” you murmured as you frowned at the dj who stood a couple steps from you.

it was fairly boring for a while, the music slowly started to feel faint as the stuffy atmosphere began to push its way into your already tight space. you slightly squeeze the plastic cup in your hand, pressing your back against the wall.

you felt trapped.

deciding you’ve had enough of this, you walk away from the corner. as if you were popping a bubble; like a puppy opening its eyes for the first time, but instead of meeting with a fascinating world, you’re met with drunk shit heads who can’t dance, let alone walk in a straight line.

“where is she…” you huffed, looking for the coworker who invited you to this party, if you can even call it that. it’s more depressing than a fucking funeral.

pushing through everyone was a literal pain in the ass, the environment reeked of alcohol, and the air was incredibly thick. you were starting to regret even accepting the goddamn invitation.

go they said, it’ll be fun they said, “fun my ass.” you utter a small ‘tsk’ as a man twice your size bumps into you, not even having the common courtesy to apologize. god, this is horrible.

you somehow ended up in the kitchen. sighing in frustration, you rest yourself against the counter.

“i’m going to fucking kill-“ you started, but were rudely interrupted when someone walked into the kitchen.

your eyes slightly widened as you acknowledge the person. your ex best friend. fun.

he was whistling along to the horrendous noise these people call music, happiness basically oozing from his pores.

he turned his head to you, looking at you from head to toe in shock, shock which soon subsided and was replaced with an expression you can’t quite describe.

“oh.. hey.” yeonjun waved, mullet drenched in sweat as some loose hairs stuck to his forehead. he breathed heavily, his once joyful demeanor now engulfed in…uncomfortableness? melancholy? nostalgia? it’s been so long that you can’t tell anymore.

he slowly made his way to the fridge, giving you an awkward smile as you bite your inner cheek and look away.

it was silent for a while, you could feel his eyes burning holes into your face.

“yn?” he quietly said, arms crossed over the open fridge door. he looked at you, waiting for a response.

in all honesty, he didn’t expect one. at least not after ghosting you completely and then coming back a couple months later like nothing happened.

he scoffed and shook his head with a sad smile, sighing in disbelief. he was disappointed in himself.

yeonjun shut the fridge door and begun to lead himself out the kitchen, “yes?” you replied with urgency, you didn’t want him to leave. not again. not after losing him for months.

he chuckled, looking back at you. “you’re…not mad at me?” he asked, feet moving in your direction. he realized you aren’t so closed off anymore, you’re more…awake, as if you’ve come to terms with the gravity of things, and for that, he’s thankful. he can make things right now.

you grew nervous, a prominent lump built up in your throat, making it difficult for you to breathe. “i wouldn’t say i am - or was - mad, i guess i..“ you stopped yourself as yeonjun stumbled, falling onto you.

you tried backing up, but couldn’t. fucking counter…you thought, swallowing slowly as the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils.

“yeonjun? yeonjun, you’re drunk.” you tried pushing him off, but he didn’t budge. instead, he laid his head on your shoulder, “not drunk, just… tipsy.” he blabbered.

it was silent for a couple seconds until you heard him sniffle. he was crying.

“wha…” he grabbed your waist, sobbing into your shoulder. “i’m so-“ he hiccuped, followed by a groan. “i’m sorry, yn, i’m sorry!” yeonjun cried, lifting his head in an attempt to look at you. you stood there, dumbfounded. heart hammering against your chest. he’s drunk. it was evident, yet he still denied it.

he peeked at you through his wet lashes, incoherent sounds slipping past his lips as he wiped his runny nose. “and you say you’re not drunk? look at you! why are you crying?!” you raised both brows in confusion, stroking his hair softly.

you’re supposed to be cussing him out for all the hurt he’s caused you, for leaving with absolutely no explanation, yet here you are, combing your cold fingers through his sweaty strands as he bawls into your shoulder. you’ve seen him like this more often than not; always manages to surprise you, though.

“i’m not drunk…. ‘m sorry” he hesitated, wiping the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand. as you realize how close your bodies are, you nod, circling around him.

yeonjun turned, biting his lip. he wants to say something. you know he wants to say something, but he’s holding back and it’s making you anxious and impatient.

“would you maybe…want to leave?” you blink, all previous feelings of discomfort disappearing. “what’re you planning?” you question, crossing your arms as you sternly stare at him.

“maybe grab some drinks and then go to my place?” he smiled, which quickly disappeared when you displayed a doubting look. “i mean, i just want to talk to you…without all the noise…and the multitude of people.” your heart shattered, and you were sure your eyes softened, because his did too.

“fine.” yeonjun’s ears perk up, big smile on his face. “let’s go.” you nodded, grabbing his arm before he left the kitchen.

“i’m driving.”

“but-“ his eyebrows furrowed, “no buts, deny it all you want, we’re not risking it.” he sighed, defeat poking through the pout on his lips. he lowly hummed in agreement, walking out of the kitchen with you trailing close behind.

“home sweet home!” yeonjun exclaimed, arms flying in the air as the bag of soju dangled in his hand. “yeonjun, be quiet, it’s late.” you slowly grabbed his arm, taking the bag of soju away. “i shouldn’t have allowed you to drink on the way here.” you sighed, placing the bag on the counter and taking out the already opened box of soju.

he pouted, stumbling towards the little coffee table that sat in the middle of his living room. “bring some soju, please!” he slurred.

you grabbed the box, nestling it under your arm as you made your way towards drunk yeonjun.

you sat down, setting the box on the coffee table. “oh…i forgot to bring shot glasses.” you groaned, fixing to stand up when yeonjun stopped you.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll go get them.” he smiled, patting your hand.

“but-“

“it’s okay.” he shook his head, standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

in a matter of seconds, he was back, sitting in front of you with soju in hand, two shot glasses already set on the table.

yeonjun held the bottle from the bottom with one hand, and swirled it vigorously with the other. you watched him closely, how his hands wrapped around the bottle, you wonder how they’d feel on your face-

“yn?” you blinked, snapping back into reality. “yes? i’m sorry.” you gulped, noticing a full shot glass in front of you.

as you were about to reach for the glass, you stopped midway. sighing as you plopped your arm down on the table. yeonjun noticed this and raised a brow, “is everything…alright?” he asked, pouring soju into his glass.

“yes…and no.” you admitted, “i mean i just…i missed this, you know? spending time with you. i missed being here. i missed this apartment.” you paused, staring at yeonjun who was now looking down at his thighs.

“i missed you.” you leaned forward, arms now crossed on the table. yeonjun snapped his head up, quickly grabbing his glass and gulping the liquid down.

“ahhh…” he set the glass down, frowning as the liquid burned his throat. “i missed you too yn…” he smiled weakly, you realized he wasn’t in the right mind for all the sappy stuff right now, so you decided to change the subject.

“tell me, what have you been up to?” you smiled, grabbing your glass, tilting your head to the side as you swallow the drink.

“me? hm…not much….” yeonjun leaned forward, smile spread across his flushed cheeks.

✸ ✸ ✸

you lost track of time, it seemed. but you weren’t the only one. yeonjun, too, lost track of how many shots he took. not that it mattered, he was already drunk out of his mind to begin with. “baby…..” he slurred, reaching out to you as you gasped. baby?? are you serious??

“yeonjun what…” you decided to stop yourself, not even questioning anything that came out of his mouth.

after looking around for a minute, you groaned. there is so much to clean up.

an unfinished 20 pack of soju on the table; only 4 remaining, some snack wrappers thrown on the table, and a drunk yeonjun who can’t even utter a proper sentence.

“‘m s’sorry” he hiccuped, head lulling as he smiled like an idiot. his lips glistened under the dim light, most likely from all the constant licking and drinking he’s been doing.

“let me take you to your room so you can sleep.” he shook his head violently, backing up against the sofa behind him as you made your way to him.

“no!” he pouted, looking at you with tears brimming his eyes. “oh you’re such a child, come on let’s go!” yeonjun pushed your hand off his arm, whining.

you stopped and huffed, sitting down beside him in order to comfort him, “why are you crying?”

“i f…feel like shit” he cried, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “why do you feel that way?” you knew this was just a drunk fit of his, but you had to at least hear him out.

“‘cuz i ruined my chance with the person i love” he sniffles, staring into your eyes with his teary ones. you blinked, wiping his tears with your thumbs. “and who may that be?” you question, stroking his shoulder in a comforting manner.

“you.” you inhale sharply, blinking in confusion. you shook your head, chuckling awkwardly, “you’re just drunk, come on.” yeonjun stopped protesting, defeated by his own tiredness.

you wrapped his arm over your shoulder, dragging him while leaning against the walls for support. “goddamnit, what have you been eating? you’re so heavy.” you strain, sighing in relief as your eyes find his bedroom door.

opening the door was one thing, laying him on the bed was another. you pant, his body weighing you down. as a result you slipped and fell.

on top of him.

jesus fuck.

you froze when he groaned. “i’m so sorry!” you scrambled to stand up, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you against him.

“sleep with me tonight, please.” yeonjun whispered, lazy smile spreading across his face. you shake your head, “yeonjun, you’re drunk. we can’t be doing this. you’re not in the right mind!” you faintly shake your head, “please?” he insisted.

you sighed, pressing your forehead against his chest. “fine. but i will be leaving first thing in the morning.” he chuckled, nodding. “if you want to get comfortable, my shirts are over there-“ he hiccuped. you nodded and patted his chest in understanding. “just sleep, okay?? i’ll be right back.” yeonjun hummed, closing his eyes.

you wake up groggy and disoriented, staring at the window as a ray of sunshine peeked through the curtain, making you squint and smile lazily.

you rub the sleep from your eyes and stretch, “good mor-“ you stop as you notice yeonjun isn’t in bed with you anymore. you look around the room once more, no sign of him.

a pang of worry and confusion washed over you. one would think it’s stupid considering the fact that you’re in his house, yet you can’t help but be alarmed.

what if he left you again?

‘oh that’s stupid, yn. pull yourself together.’ you shake your head and scoff, but the panic settles at the pit of your stomach nonetheless.

throwing the blanket to the side, you stand, yawning as you wobble towards the door.

“yn-“ yeonjun stops, doorknob in one hand and breakfast tray in the other. he eyed you as you stood there, eyes wide in confusion.

yeonjun blinked, “good morning?…” he lets out a breathy laugh, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him with his foot. “i made you breakfast.” you felt your heart squeeze at that. he smiled, walking over to the bed and signaling you to lay down.

and you did. you laid down, placing the warm blankets back on your body and smoothing them over in order to create a flat enough surface for the breakfast tray.

“thank you so much..” you gush as yeonjun placed the tray in front of you. he sat down, crossing his legs and smiling like a total idiot.

“you’ve been nothing but smiles since you walked in the room…did something happen?” you question, making yeonjun hang his head with an even bigger smile on his face. “you look so beautiful.” he mumbled, adjusting his position on the bed.

“what?” you looked up, cheek stuffed with food. he snorted, scooting forward and leaning towards you. “i said,” he wiped your lip with his thumb, eyes traveling to yours, holding them dearly. “you look so beautiful.” he chuckled at your expression, making his heart skip a beat.

“you’re making a mess, be careful, yeah?” you grab the tray, placing it to one side as you choke on your food. yeonjun stands with you, stroking your arms with his soft hands.

“hey, you alright?” you nodded, grabbing onto his shoulder for support. “it’s just…” you stopped, swallowing the lump in your throat. “you caught me off guard, that’s all.” yeonjun’s eyes softened, “i meant it.” he caressed your face as a warm smile tugged at his lips.

“why…why are you being so nice to me?” you stepped away from his hold, sitting back down on the soft bed. he sighed and flopped down beside you, staring at the curtains that blocked the sunlight.

“because i’m in love with you.” his eyes traveled from the window to you, “i’ve been in love with you.” you waver, eyes widening in confusion. “and i don’t want to mess up again.”

“so last night-“

“i remember.” yeonjun nodded, fidgeting with his thumbs as he bit his bottom lip. “i guess i was drunk enough to let that slip but not enough to forget.” he reasoned, gazing at you briefly before staring at his feet.

“it’s okay if you don’t want anything to do with me, i mean-“ you placed a hand on his, drawing circles on it with your thumb. “yeonjun, im in love with you too.” he stopped, shifting on the bed.

“what?…”

“im in love with you too.”

he stuttered, mouth opened for a few seconds before closing it again. you saw the glint in his his eyes before being pulled into a hug.

a long, warm, cozy hug.

a hug you’ve been craving for a while.

his hug.

you broke into tears, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “oh god, yn, i’m deeply sorry. i’ve hurt you so much.” yeonjun ran his fingers through your hair, cooing softly.

you stained his shirt, but he didn’t care,“i missed you so much, you know? we stopped talking for so long. i thought i lost you for real…” you say between sobs, lightly punching his chest.

“i forgive you, dumbass.” he stayed quiet, you’re too nice. he didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. yet you gave it. you gave something so precious to someone who doesn’t even deserve a single look from you.

yeonjun held your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs. he smiled, “how about this, you finish breakfast and then we can go wherever you want. i’ll explain myself. i’ll explain everything.” you nod slowly, grinning.

“there’s my yn, i missed you.” he quipped, earning himself a slap to his arm. he winced, rubbing the spot.

“is this a date then?” you question, grabbing another bite of your once forgotten food.

“hmmmmmmm” yeonjun tapped his chin, laughing as you whine. “yes dummy, it is.” he flicked your forehead lightly as you giggled.

you grab his arm, “let’s get ready then.” yeonjun didn’t budge as you tried dragging him along, “but the food…” you shook your head, “it’s gone cold, plus i know you’re somewhat hung over so let me treat you to food, hm?” you tapped his hand reassuringly.

“yn-“

“i’m not taking no for an answer.” he pursed his mouth, slowly nodding in defeat.

“perfect, where do you want to go?”

“how about…”

you both disagreed the entire way to the bathroom, laughing and giggling as jokes were thrown around between sentences.

you missed this.

you missed yeonjun.

he was willing to start over, and you were willing to let it happen.

💌: im sorry this is lwk ass, i hope you enjoyed regardless! please make sure to leave a like, comment, and reblog!! thank you 🫶

183 notes · View notes

i-got-bad-knees · 1 year

Text

Some notable moments from the show (an evening with Bob Odenkirk, guest hosted by David Baddiel) on Monday:

Mike was created because Bob couldn’t shoot a fourth ep due to HIMYM conflicting, he commented that it ended up making a lot more sense because “Saul would never move a body”

Said Saul’s only real “human” (Jimmy) moments in BrBa in his opinion were 1. When he tries to encourage Jesse to go talk to Andrea and Brock rather than waiting in the car, he said “there’s no incentive or benefit for Saul, he won’t make any money and it’s a risk for Jesse to be seen” (imo Jimmy more than Saul speaks to Brock and Andrea anyway) and 2. When he’s telling Walt to just quit while he’s ahead, because “Saul doesn’t care, he doesn’t care if this guy dies or if he’s family dies, why should he?”

Said the Saul hair (“combover on top, mullet in the back”) was his idea after reading the script

His agent apparently told him “please do not say no” to breaking bad and his response was “well I’m gonna” and he turned to us and continued “because that’s how I am, I’m difficult”

The first scene he shot was the Walt and Jesse in the desert scene, he said it was during a sandstorm which didn’t pick up on camera but every time they opened their mouths they were full of sand.

The desert scene with Mike took 14 “gruelling” days to shoot, out in the ABQ desert.

They had a snake wrangler on to clear any areas they were filming in (and obtain a snake if one was needed) but during the desert trek they didn’t come across a single snake in the entire 14 days and the wrangler said it was because it was too hot. For the desert snakes.

His heart attack occurred during the Lalo/mcwexler confrontation scene in the final season, and parts of it are from after his recovery months later. It’s been said a lot, but hearing Bob personally say out loud that he was “out” for 15 minutes and that his training for Nobody saved his life (which he explained how and why in detail) was Wild. I lost my dad due to heart complications, I’m really glad he was able to pull through.

David didn’t know about the heart attack, he was taken aback and stated Bob looked “damn good” and we all applauded

He essentially confirmed that Kim likes Jimmy because she’s also insane. He said it in a very roundabout way (“they’re both damaged, weird loners” and “she hides it better but she was more into it than him at times” lmao) but that was the gist.

Credits Giancarlo Esposito as perhaps the best actor he’s ever worked with and spoke about the wine bar scene for a good 5 minutes. The women behind me whispered “Gus is gay” during this.

Said the first time he met David Cross the man turned up to his home holding a basketball (at around 27 years old) asking if Bob wanted to play. He replied that he’d just made a sandwich.

He’s a huge Monty Python nerd and kept speaking about it at lengths during random intervals. Someone in the audience shouted that he was saying “Python” wrong (because he’s, ya know, American and says it with an American accent) and he attempted to say it “properly”. He could say Python, he could not say Monty. He thought Python was spelt Pythun, though.

He then did the same when David said Ree-ah instead of Ray for Rhea’s name lmao

He said “I might be slow but I’m not stupid” and briefly chanted “slow is not stupid!”

Apparently hates parody comedy (doesn’t care enough about popular culture. Relatable)

Didn’t expand on it much (because Baddiel hadn’t finished the series before literally interviewing the main actor) but said one of his favourite scenes is the breakup scene, and that he loved when Saul was thrown in the trash, saying “he deserves it”

Told Vince to “beat the shit out of this guy” (JimmySaul) in bcs

Enjoys shooting in difficult locations or circumstances (man likes to suffer for his art ig lmao)

When asked about the piss drinking scene, stated “I refused to drink my own piss, I’m fed up of the taste, so I had the whole crew mix a little of their piss into the bottle so it was a complete mystery” did not explain what was actually in the piss jugs

His wife was just offstage the whole time which was very sweet

Called the Trumps the worst family in America

Didn’t think we have Marmite in the UK. It’s literally British aksjdhekdjf

David Baddiel doesn’t know about Dr Suess. Not relevant to Bob but wth.

Bob said he’s nothing like Saul/Jimmy many times and the central reason he said so is because “Saul needs everybody to like him, Jimmy just wants the respect and admiration of his brother, and I don’t care, I just wanna make myself happy”

His favourite show is BBCs Royle Family

We could submit questions during interval and he answered a couple, one was “do you eat at Cinnabon” to which he replied “no, I had a heart attack” lmao. Baddiel was surprised Cinnabon was a real place.

We all got a free copy of his book (tho apparently he didn’t know?) with our tickets so that’s cool. Will be reading in the next 5-60 months

He got 3 people up on stage to read him questions he’d written and one woman, Claire, was absolutely amazing and actually successfully matched Bob’s stage presence and energy when reading this (hilarious) script he gave her. The others did great too but Claire is the MVP of the evening

Right near the start he said the word cunt. I was thrilled.

#10/10 would recommend it was a great show #bcs #brba #bob odenkirk #an evening with Bob Odenkirk #also I got lost in Birmingham after the show and was genuinely scared for a while ✌️ worth it

59 notes · View notes

bluedemon1995 · 4 months

Text

Okay, I’m technically on time!

Kidge Winter Event 2023

Day 1-December 18: ice skating

“Stop staring at me.”

“But you hate winter. You hate the cold. I mean, you’re not even the biggest fan of nature. So how the hell are you this good of a skater?”

“Shhh!” Pidge looked around and sure enough, Lance’s loud voice was drawing attention. People were glancing their way. She could literally feel their eyes on her. And now she was feeling uncomfortable. She hated being the center of attention and can literally feel her face turning red. Feeling irritated she quickly skates off. Honestly, so what, she can skate, it’s not rocket science. Smirking she thought, no rocket science would be expected of her.

She keeps going around, picking up speed, it all the while ignoring Lance and thinking back to last year when she first met him and had a bit of a crush on him. Thank God she was over that. Now, she would consider him and Hunk her best friends. Smiling she can’t help but think how much her life has changed over the last year. For the better too! She skipped two grades and was terrified that she would be a social pariah in high school.

Fortunately, that fear didn’t come true. Instead, she was taking classes that actually challenged her and made her work. She had friends. Lance was super friendly and didn’t get offended when she was awkward around him. Instead, he seemed to take it as a challenge! Every day, he said “Hi”, he initiated contact. It probably took a month of him talking to her in daily class for her to realize that he was being authentic. He actually wanted to be my friend.

Life was much better even if she was younger than her peers. She saw Hunk setting up the hot chocolate table and treats near the fire.

Suddenly, her feet were taken out from under her, she was hit, spun and facing the ground. Blinking she looked directly into another’s eyes. His eyes. The mullet. Lance’s rival. He was under her. What the hell?

“Sorry, Katie. We were shooting a puck around and someone lost control. It was headed your way and, “

“Pidgey!! What the hell Keith! Are you okay?” Lance holds out his hand and grabs me by my armpits, pulling me up quickly. “You good?”

I’m trying to get my bearings and see the opposite side of the ice. They were playing hockey, and I can see Keith’s concern.

Axca skates closer, grabbing Keith’s arm and pulling him to her. “Sorry lost control of that one! C’mon Keith. Let’s go.”

I blink, still trying to get my bearings. I look up and Keith’s gaze is solidly on me. He shakes off the arm and moves closer to me. “Are you ok? We landed a little hard, but I didn’t think you’d hear me in time.”

His hands reach out and readjusts my hat and I feel his fingers lightly drift down my jawline. I blink. I’ve never been this close to our school’s bad boy.

“Keith?”

“Um, wanna, go and get some hot chocolate?”

I freeze, holy shit. Keith Kogane wants to hang out?

Unfortunately, I hear both Lance and Axca simultaneously yell our names in conjunction.

Keith, smirks, “Yeah, c’mon Katie, c’mere with me.”

I feel my face flush but this time I’m not embarrassed. I’m intrigued. I’m interested. Let’s go!

#kidgewinterevent2023 #kidge #keith kogane #katie holt #keith x pidge #keith and pidge #pidge and keith #voltron #fanfiction #pidge #keith #kidge winter event 2023

16 notes · View notes

unohanabbygirl · 7 months

Text

Part two of four to my FMN hairstyles plus this verse’s canon hair facts thread because why not?

Just like Laena, Alicent is also a very simple woman when it comes to how she styles her hair. Its not that she’s afraid of change but that she’s simply content with her current style. This look has did her good two thousand years ago and it does her good now. A pretty brown that sometimes looks reddish depending on the light, a few nice layers and blown out bangs are all she needs. Alicent straightens her hair every once in a while but only because she likes the way it makes her layers pop out when she bumps the ends. Though she’s finding other heatless methods since Laena has been hassling her about using her blow dryer + flat iron too much.

Whenever she visits foster centers or spends time with her clients little sisters or daughters the girls love playing with her hair, happily allowing them style it in fishtail braids with little ribbons and bows.

Visenya has nearly given her a few panic attacks because her grabby little hands love trying to rip out clumps of her bangs.

She may or may not be contributing to Baela’s hair ties going missing.

If I had to use one word to describe Rhaena’s hair it would be fairycore. Bows, beads, barrettes and hair jewelry of all kinds have always been her friend. Sometimes they’re colorful while other-times they’re monochromatic but there’s always a pattern they take on. I imagine that if she were to go to the Renaissance concert that she’d wrap all of her locs in sliver hair string with shiny silver beads at the end.

Updos are her everything, her hair stays in ponytails or buns. Usually paired with a bang swooped to the side.

She cut bangs into her hair a few summers ago and reattached her locs with a crochet needle when she missed them because they’re such apart of her. But she’s sure she’s gonna do it again soon because its such a look. Not to mention that temporary hair color held such a special place in her heart in her middle school years. Especially pinks, purples, and blues. 12 yr old Rhaena used to take a few locs and go crazy with the color during the warmer months. Though she always made sure to use a vegan brand because their products washed out the easiest, two deep shampoos and she was back blonde.

She’s currently considering dying her whole head a light plum color and Is definitely the reason so many of Baela’s hair ties go missing but returns them secretly whenever her sister gets box braid or faux locs because she’s 100% gonna keep them in a ponytail the whole time before cutting them out.

Aegon iii AKA 🥚

He’s a lil emo baby and I truly love that for him. Very much into the dramatic, editorial sort of hairstyles which are veryy unconventional but is kinda scared of what Rhaenyra would think if he went that far because his mother’s approval means everything above all and is scared shitless she wouldn’t. Instead, he chooses to cut himself some choppy layers and dye the ends jet black with cheap box-dye. His bangs are way too overgrown and don’t even really qualify as bangs anymore. It’s to the point where he kinda can’t see but doesn’t make them shorter because he’s too committed to this specific look.

Doesn’t care too much about maintaining health so he’s rough with his hair and uses the crappy three in one shampoos while hardly conditioning (yes, his hair is dry asf but we love him anyway)

Will likely go fully jet black with blonde highlights one day.

Aegon’s hair is…lets just say it looks cool which is great!

Its not ugly at all, most people like the messy almost mullet look he’a got going on. However, the real problem is that it’s somehow even more dry than Egg’s. He washes it ofc, but never conditions because its too much work and lets be real here; Aegon would 100% not even bathe if it were socially acceptable to be musty. (Plus Jace is all about good hygiene and Baela will literally punch him if he comes in her face smelling like old socks so it serves as encouragement.)

Aemond has tried to get him going with a proper haircare routine several times but it’s more difficult than training a dog to do sign language so he’s given up completely.

#FMN #Hair thread

10 notes · View notes

meditativedeer · 11 months

Text

incredibly personal and specific reasons to stay alive (extensive)

exactly 25 days until my last exam. the feeling of walking out of school for the last time and feeling that chapter close with a satisfying thunk.

MUNA concert (30th aug). Jo and Naomi in the flesh? Need I say more?

all the pets I am going to love that haven't even been born yet

coffee in my favourite mug

getting to know someone and you realise you have the same niche interests and you feel so very understood

Barbie movie and Yorgos Lanthimos directing My Year of Rest and Relaxation. And Asteroid City. Going to sob so hard in the cinema.

sex (with girls)

finishing my first screenplay

swimming in open bodies of water

all the cool jobs im going to work with so many cool people

there's a song out there that is my absolute favourite but I haven't heard it yet. probably haven't even heard of my favourite artist yet.

so many books to read

sitting in the back garden with the dinner I just made for myself

all the parties I'm going to host/ attend

one day I'm going to go to India and live in an ashram for a month to get a yoga teaching certificate. I think that's a pretty good reason to stay alive

I haven't owned my own apartment yet

I want a cat

tattoos

piercings

haven't tried orange wine yet

all the camping trips not yet taken

haven't finished the l word yet

becoming friends with someone who you really really really wanted to be friends with

I need to try every cocktail ever - so many of the classics I haven't had; margarita, martini, Manhattan, negroni...

need to see Thailand, Greece, Germany

so many languages to learn

need to knit a jumper

sunny evenings spent on the porch with mum and a bottle white wine

looking into someones eyes and realising you're made of the same stuff

poetry

I need to see the 1975 in concert again before I die. I also need to see Clairo and king princess

haven't had nearly enough haircuts. need a girl mullet

I don't yet own one of those nice patterned Patagonia fleeces

meeting my sisters kids.

going to my sisters wedding.

so many trinkets to buy

that feeling when you get home after a shift you didn't think would ever end and realising that you're much more resilient than you thought you were.

the 3 seconds before you kiss someone for the first time

realising that you fell in love with someone so gradually and sneakily that you were barely aware of it. very pure

when something so good and so unexpected happens and you literally have to jump around to celebrate.

forest walks with my dog

going out for breakfast

dresses and daffodils and lambs in spring and salads and trees and driving in summer and reading and hot coffee and Harry Potter in autumn and jumpers and fuzzy socks and candles in winter

hot baths

freezing cold showers after a run

when someone wants to tell you all about themselves and they talk and talk and talk and you could just listen to them forever because they're so cool

falling in love and having the other person love me just as much

buying flowers

christmas

ageing. Im actually excited to go grey.

#web weaving #love #writing #poetry #writers and poets #wlw #sotce #love poem #poem #meditation #sighswoon #life #soft life #reality #happiness #peace #feeling

20 notes · View notes

thealleydog · 8 months

Text

LONG LONG LONG STORYTIME ABOUT HOW MY LIFE GOT FLIP TURNED UPSIDE DOWN THIS PAST WEEKEND (tldr at the bottom)

Guest starring @wint3r-h3art ~! 💖💖💖

This is chisme. Gossip. Personal life stuff. But I am, still, very much unemployed.

This wasn't on my 2023 bingo card. I didn't know this was gonna happen when I ate those grapes under the table of a New York dive bar. But sometimes you gotta get your heart broke before you can shake some shit up.

My mentor and close friend owns the tattoo shop we work(ed) at. He taught us how to tattoo on top of some real-life lessons. And if people were to ask me, I'll always credit him for getting me to where I am now. But this bitch is a severely traumatized, unmedicated bipolar who ends up taking it out on the people closest to him. Amazing man who wants to be a good person to his people. But - untreated and refuses therapy.

And while he can be a good man, he will put your ass THROUGH IT. I'm telling you, my homie, Fabian, and I literally had almost quit our apprenticeships because we were helping him build that shop, and it was STRESSFUL. But it made us tough. Instead, I settled for a full mental breakdown along the shore and stared at the lake for an hour or so.

(Side note, why does crying clear up the face and make you look beautiful??? That's no makeup right there?!?!)

We two and our other homie, Primo, have been there for the beginning. I'm talking as soon as quarantine was lifted enough that shops in the city were allowed to reopen and could cut our hair again. (I got a shaggy mullet.) So that's three years of our lives to give to this shop and him. Everyone else that came in and was with us to the end are literally amazing people. Like the social circle we had there was something we don't wanna let go of. And he was almost like our dad in a way.

Anyways! So this summer hasn't been the best and in an effort to get new blood and clients into the shop, four of us decided to work a booth at Anime Magic and represent the shop. There was a whole row just for tattoo artists and we knew a handful of them from other shops. (The community is surprisingly small.) We spent about a month worrying and preparing and buying supplies. It's mine and Mari's first con, but Fabian and David knew what to do and we passed inspection.

All's good, right? I'm excited. I booked @wint3r-h3art and her husband! They came all the way from Boston to get stabbed by me. (Which oh my god I'm still humbled someone would do that!)

So I'm tattooing my first internet friend I get to meet in real life...

Then Mari stopped tattooing and showed me the mass text we got from him.

Bro.

My heart fell into my ass and I felt the world crumble. It was so embarrassing. Had to pull up my big girl panties and knock out these tattoos though. I ain't no punk.

At the end of the night, Fabian and I try to call him, trying to see where his headspace is at and if he's okay. He didn't answer at first, but he called back. I didn't say anything because I was sitting all quiet, full of disappointment and crying a bit. Fabian tried to tell him we are here for him and we love him - only for him to hang up on us.

So we head to the shop to check on every still there. The mood is just...

Everyone is heart broken and disappointed and scared even. But the kicker is the lady who does the office paperwork felt safe enough to tell us how he was acting lately. How he'd talk shit about us and vent his frustrations to her. But he'd act more than okay with us. Even when we would talk to him, he never showed his feelings about anything he vented to her. His mental health was definitely getting worst and with four of us at the convention, all he wanted was for something to go wrong that Friday.

And it did. One of the artists has to go back to her home country for surgery because of a numbness that has been bothering her for three years. She told us she was gonna put her two weeks in and work a little at other places until she had to leave. So when she holds his hands and begins to tell him "I have to leave -"

"Okay then go. Pack your stuff immediately."

Didn't give her a chance to explain or talk even when she begged him to listen. Had to pack her stuff into garbage bags.

Then he sent that massive text that morning we were at the convention.

Mind you, we are a crew of nine people, including two baby apprentices. We think we ain't got jobs. I was able to not think about it the rest of the night because Linda and her hubs were so awesome, and I got to eat and drink something for the first time since 8 or 9 am. (But for real, you guys are the highlight of my story so far!) Anxiety? Betrayal? The streets??? On an empty stomach, good Lord. ⚰️

Day 2 and Day 3 go by. We're still tattooing. But now people are starting to ask questions. So we tell them our situation. It's like blood in the water.

"Come work with us!"

"We got spots!"

"You should come by and talk to the owner of our shop."

Apparently our shop has a GOOD reputation. And all the artists do good work so people want us to work for them.

The now Refuge Gang decided on Sunday night to go to shop and just clean out our equipment, which would leave the owner with a very empty shop on Monday. We just didn't want to deal with him anymore considering he was being very manic with his texting and how he was responding to people in the shop. Gave no illusion that he would change his mind.

That night I felt empty and lost. I felt terrible about that this had to happen with him. He really saved me by teaching me. But this was abusive. With a heavy heart, I was the last to leave my key in the office. Wasn't expecting to cry.

We ended the night with Korean BBQ, plum wine, and several shots of shochu.

I think everything is gonna be alright. He tried to call me twice during this whole thing. But I ignored it because I'm not going back and I need space from him for a long time. Still love him, but that was something I won't tolerate anymore is people abusing me in any shape or form. Even cherished friends.

I have a job lined up not too far from my place and I'll be apprenticing one of the babies from the old shop as part of the deal! Even though she's like my age, but Dani's awesome as fuck. Gotta step my pussy up and guide her and myself on this wild unknown road!

Fingers crossed I just need to meet the boss this Friday to iron out the details. But this one is set up where I could actually... have a life. I can be an artist again. A real, piece of shit, beautifully grotesque, smut artist that I've been! (Check out my Instagram and scroll down, you'll see what I mean.) The Refuge Gang have started a group chat to support and look out for each other. We're making sure everyone will be working again and stable. Someone us even got into some real Chicago staple shops! I'm proud of all these talented hoes.

AND and, HOPEFULLY, because we liked each other so much and we're all incredibly talented - Fabian has spearheaded an idea and is in the works of starting an artist collective! Working on getting funding, investors, a building, THE WORKS. That way we can be artists AND tattoo artists. We'll be our own bosses. If everything goes well, we should have everything organized by the spring. It takes fucking forever for shit to happen in Chicago, but we'll be having meetings to talk and work together on this project.

TLDR: My homie got me and the Refuge Gang fucked up but we're wily. Tattooing isn't for punk bitches.

#STORYTIME #tattooing is wild

11 notes · View notes

fan-mans · 1 year

Note

send aran headcanons plz 👉👈

Oh god... you have opened an absolute wormhole, my dude. I'll try and contain myself but no promises, lmao

First and foremost: All of his boxer info is wrong. Well, almost all of it. This is in part because there are 2 Aran Ryan's in the wvba, the east coast Aran in new york (His wii iteration) and the west coast Aran in seattle (His snes iteration). For the sake of clarity, just know that I'm talking about the wii Aran for this ask. The other half is that (Wii) Aran basically lied about everything- all of his documents are forged and he's just been rolling with the lies since he entered the wvba.

(It's a long, long, story, but I'll elaborate if someone asks)

Aran is very close to his family! He adores his parents, grandma, and younger siblings and does everything he can to support them. This, unfortunately, means that his living conditions aren't the best, but it's family, and Aran knows they need his match money more than him.

He's the eldest of 11, with 4 sisters, 4 brothers and 2 adopted brothers. He had to help take care of his siblings his whole life, but at around 14 his family hit hard times and he dropped out of school to fill in a '4th parent' role that his grandfather's death left. As such, his relationship with his adopted brothers and youngest two siblings leans more towards parental than anything. (I have more of this and will expand if someone asks)

Because of all this, Aran is one of the 3 boxers who can actually parent (The other two being bear hugger and kaiser). He basically has a 'parent mode'- like, literally if there is an unattended kid within a 20 meter radius of him, he is now that kid's dad. On more than one occasion (During another boxer's match ofc) left his seat and returned with someone's kid sleeping in his arms.

He loves kids to death and taking care of them is something he really enjoys. He'd love to have a bunch of his own kids one day.

Since his house was so crowded growing up, living in new york is a very, very lonely experience. As much as he likes having his own space, he doesn't like how empty his apartment is, even with his dog. Nights were especially bad before his dog because, without someone sharing a room or bed, he has nightmares that leave him irritated and paranoid.

His dog is an Australian shepherd/border collie mix named Cu Chulainn, who he normally just calls 'cu'. This dog has as much energy as Aran and is probably the only reason he does cardio at all. Also, Cu has very strong herding/protecting instincts, which means he is more than happy to go apeshit on anyone trying to fuck with Aran.

His mental health is an absolute clusterfuck that deserves its own damn post to go into.

He doesn't cheat out of maliciousness, or at least not fully. He cheats because he feels like he has to. The minute he saw Hippo and Great Tiger in the ring, he knew playing clean would do him no favors. He's a good boxer outside of his cheating, and could probably do well as a clean fighter but doesn't trust his skill enough - especially with his family on the line.

He's so so so creative. This man paints and draws and sculpts, though he prefers painting and sculpting. He also loves knitting! All of the world circuit (Aka his besties) have at least one hat/sweater/pair of mittens made by him. Costumes are his jam too- he will spend months hyperfixating on a perfect costume for halloween.

He couldn't decide on short or long hair, so now he has a mullet that he cuts all by himself thankyouverymuch (Which is why it's so badly cut lmao)

His facial hair grows black in the summer/fall and more dark reddish-brown in the winter/spring. His dad grows a blonde beard in the summer/fall and a reddish-blond one in the winter/spring.

He adores growing his hair out when the boxing season is over. He's barely recognizable with a full beard and looks exactly like his dad. Shaving is the worst part of the new boxing season and it always takes him a few days to recover from the dysphoria all that shaving causes him.

Aran is punk as all hell. He's got 11 piercings and a handful tattoos and plans to get more. All of his clothes are either thrifted or hand-me-downs to some degree and patched to hell and back. His aesthetic tends to scare people, which Aran is perfectly okay with.

Speaking of clothes, he refuses to wear fake leather or wool. He knows how the real stuff feels and hates the feeling of pleather or acrylic wool. He insists the real stuff is better and why he's never cold in the winter.

Aran cannot wear ties. He can wear scarves, chokers, collars, anything but ties. Shirts fully buttoned up are also uncomfortable for the most part, but he has a few that fit him.

#aran ryan #punch out wii #punch out #headcanons #ask game #can you tell he's my favorite?#because he is #I wub u stinky rat man #i have so many more so PLEASE keep these coming #my hcs

17 notes · View notes

evansbby · 1 year

Note

BESTIE I SAW THE CHRIS EVANS SEXIEST MAN ALIVE PICTURES AND FLEW TO YOUR INBOX

good god he looks so good wowowoowowwoowow and I am so excited for your reaction omg I can’t take it AND THE LOW NECKLINE ALALLAOAOOAPQOQQOOQ THE RUGGED LOOK THE HAIR EVERYTHING THE ENERGY OH MY GOD I JUST

Oh my God, okay I’ve gathered myself enough to form coherent thoughts! So here’s what I think.

Firstly. YES. I wasn’t expecting this at all!!! For me he’s really been the sexiest man alive ever since 2012 when I first saw the avengers😭😌 but good for the rest of the world for recognising it!! Specially after the slutty summer he had these past few months…

I loved the photoshoot! So warm and autumnal and cosy and felt like a hug and I love when he wore the sweater!!! I am a fucking HOE for a man in a sweater like I just find it so so so hot!!!

But also the white tee!!! His muscles!!! Tattoos peaking!!! No but seriously his arms are so thicc and the fake tan he had on??? FUCK FUCK FUCK he’s genuinely so hot and this tan looks so good. And his hair is all long from the back so I think we’re getting mullet!Chris soon but that’s a post for another time

Oooh and then THIS slutty slutty pic!!! Buttons popped n tiddies out!!! Chest hair!!! Tattoos!!! No but he’s literally so so SO hot it’s unreal!

People made the right call!!! They should just throw the whole thing away now bc Chris is the sexiest man not just this year, but every year from here on out!!!

Side note: he sounded so soft in the interview! Like so soft-spoken and eloquent as usual. Just really smart and mature, someone who has it all figured out and is so content and relaxed and wise. It’s just so attractive to watch.

#chris evans #also yes I’m gonna go there: imagine if he had Ari hair for this photoshoot😌#SORRY SORRY FORGET ARI THIS IS ABT CHRIS #but I can’t forget Ari 🫠🫠🫠🫣#anon

48 notes · View notes

disastersteps · 10 months

Text

cutting your hair (it made you feel new)

sidestep days, themmy & neets bonding, quick drabble because augh.

---

"You should cut your hair," Themmy suggested one day during their day off. The two of them are lounging in the breakroom. The rest of the Rangers are either at a mission or have their own day offs. Themmy had noticed their frustration at their own hair. It was starting to grow longer, nearly touching the shoulder. They kept pulling their ponytail a bit hard before letting it go.

It finally made Themmy suggested, and as a result, Anita groans.

"What's wrong with my hair?" Anita grumbles, gesturing their own hair.

"You kept complaining you get warm from the weather," Themmy pointed out, "Despite wearing a skinsuit, and Ortega always talked about how you kept asking her for her extra hairties-"

"First of all, it's part of being a vigilante!" Anita looks very offended at Themmy which made the latter snort in return and Anita continued, "And secondly, I never asked her about it? I brought them."

Themmy raise a eyebrow. They glance at Anita's hair, it is currently tied in a very bright blue with white stripes. Totally not from a set from a certain themed merchandise.

"If you say so, but you know, I think a short hair would suit you."

"And why would I need that?" Anita squints.

"I don't know? Ever thought of changing your hairstyle? You could try a new look, maybe Ortega will compliment on your new appearance!"

"Wha- Her? Compliment...?" Anita widen their eyes and Themmy held their breath, until the shorter person of the two answer, "That would be... nice?"

"Really?"

"Yeah..." Anita's cheeks warmed a bit and Themmy took notice of that. One day they will tease them once Anita ever realized their own feelings for Ortega but for now... Anita continues, "But! I don't want to go to any saloon-"

"Because you don't like to be seen too much- You told me and Ortega too many times, Neets." Themmy gives them a grimace look, "Too many times, seriously."

"Alright, alright," Anita raise their hands, "So whose cutting my hair?"

There was a silence between these two, and it drawn on Anita-

"No."

"No- Neets, I literally shaved my hair every once a month to get a nice mullet!"

"But mullets are different, are you sure-"

"Yes." Themmy cuts in, raising a eyebrow once more at them, "I used to cut my hair short before I got to have that, you know?"

"That's.... a fair point." Anita huffs, then rub their forehead before sighing, "Okay, okay, fine, cut my hair before I reconsidered your skills other than throwing and punching with your old fashioned acid."

"Nice! Let's fucking do it!"

( it ended up looking a pretty decent short hair. It was also the first time Anita begin to feel... like they really like this look more. Themmy had a feeling about it, but choose to wait for them to come for advice.

On the plus side, Themmy feel like patting their own back when they watched Ortega coming back from a mission with other Rangers and nearly stunned when she saw Anita.

Anita had looked so much more happier and Ortega can't help to compliment on their new look. Gayasses, Themmy thinks to themself. )

#fhr #fh anathema #fh: anathema #fh sidestep #sidestep: anita lee #mywritings #i have a hc that anita get haircut from themmy <3 #...theres a idea where in happy sidestep au anita decided to go further and get a mullet to matching with their second bestie-

6 notes · View notes

the-90s-music-colosseum · 7 months

Note

its funny cause i give my parents updates on this tournament, and the only frame of reference they have is the bands/people i'm into generally. (my mum says "well, you should be glad i don't know who you're talking about because that would mean i'm trying to be hip and cool" lmao). anyways

i think its soooo funny because like. my parents obviously know who oasis is. i have a poster i got from knebworth 22 in my room (place of pride for real), and i've played them in my care a LOT. my mum has a very vague idea of who HIM is because i've got a shirt for them (heart pentagram is such a sick design and i will die on this hill). i showed the two of them to my mum and she was like "obviously liam. the other one looks too much like a girl." and on one hand it was like "you don't understand." but on the other hand, validation. cause like. yeah. liam's gorgeous obviously. but then like. i showed her other picture of ville valo cause i totally voted for him (i'm so sorry liam but how could i not) and she GOT IT.

anyways, dad's upset mariah carey won because "she sings that hideous christmas song and anyone is better than her" and also, he's of the opinion that i should have immediately wanted to vote keanu reeves instead of holding out until i knew who he was up against (still not over liam vs. ville valo the ultimate betrayal and sadness lol)

dad's opinion is also that axl rose should win the next round solely based on the fact that he knows who he is, but really, what does he know, cause he made fun of me rooting for jarvis with my entire being.

idk where i'm going with this sorry. i love this tournament, and hilariously i'm more invested in this than the original bracket, but that's cause my most beloved albums got eliminated soooooo quickly (seeing the same in the 2000s bracket and i tell myself that my taste is just more niche rather than bad)

-from the very tipsy anon that sent something in quite awhile ago. very sorry that you only get these very long winded anons when i've had a few

n.e.ways. this blogs great and i got a kick out of you saying you'd integrate the trent reznor fuck or be like teenage girl thing into your belief system.

also, i agree with the anon that said than radiohead man aged real nice where as damon didn't. given, i last saw him with a mullet, and thought he aged like spoilt milk, but radiohead man (remembered his name Thom! aged real nice)

also, as much as creep is like the stereotypical radiohead song and kinda considered overplayed, it UNDERSTANDS ME and also me as a teen. props to him. idk if i can bring myself to vote for him though (not cause he's kinda weird looking - odd looking people are HOT ok) but cause i had a devestating crush on a guy who was obessed with radiohead and he literally told me that i give off "emotionally unavailable vibes and its cool to make friends with someone so similar to me" and it ruined me emotionally for a good like 5 months)

also, props to oasis for having supersonic as one of their top songs, cause hell yeah Give Me Gin and Tonic! literally my drink of choice lmaooooo

once again, very sorry for very long anon, had another g+t while writing this (that makes 6!)

have a very good evening! i adore this blog! and i think youre hella cool and i could never imagine trying to rum a tournament and answer all the asks that you do (there's reason i'm anon unless i have the amazing urge to send pics in aid of my very special blorbo)

omg no this is lovely actually

Apparently my blog has already met the parents?? I'm so proud ahaha and your parents have some of the funniest takes. I love reading these long asks, it's like a sneak peek into the minds of my viewers and honestly means the world to me. Enjoy your gin and tonic, anon, and a wonderful evening to you as well <3

#most attractive 90s musician #asks

4 notes · View notes

feverinfeveroutfic · 2 years

Text

chapter eleven: let go of my world

“let’s face it: none of us are going to have a happy, normal relationship.” -buffy the vampire slayer

Every so often over the course of a few months, Belinda checked in on Sam again at the apartment. The latter wished she hadn’t inadvertently made one of her few friends left behind her servant, however, there was very little which she could do at that point. All the while, she was expecting to hear back from Eric: if nothing else, it could be the last big thing she ever could do before her body gave out on her first.

Each and every day she missed Alex. She yearned to see him again, whether it was with Trans-Siberian Orchestra or with someone else, and she yearned to feel him close to her again.

The time slipped in and out of her mind all the while, and to the point in which she struggled to keep her own mind together. The seasons seemed to blend all together into a thick soup of nothingness right before her eyes.

The sole way in which she could tell time was by way of asking Belinda, who barely visited her in the end anyway, or by the power of her own art.

It used to be she could date her drawings no problem but this time around she found it nearly impossible to do such a thing. She wasn’t that old but she knew what it felt to be so old that she could hardly do anything for herself in the way in which she used to before.

She could only hope, as well. After all this time, the sole thing that kept her going and relishing in each and every day, despite of the proverbial fog that surrounded her all the while, was the feeling of hope. The hope that the pain would die down before she died herself. The hope that Testament would in fact keep their word in the future and she could in fact see them again. The hope that Belinda wouldn’t have to help her so much. The hope that the therapy would at the very least alleviate things to where she could do simple things such as tell time and raise her left foot off of the ground.

And then one day, like clockwork, Belinda’s phone rang in the most beautiful fashion ever, the most beautiful noise in the world to Sam right at that moment. It came about in a day in which the feeling of fever had returned to her and she kept an ice pack upon her head to ease the temperature back down. She closed her eyes and she hung on every nondescript word from the next room. A temperature so high that it was difficult to even so much as discern as to what was happening in the next room.

Everything had become a hallucination right then and there.

“Sam?” Belinda called from the next room: she sounded as though she stood a mile underground and inside of a sunbaked sewer pipe.

“Yeah?” she called back to her in a feeble voice and with a heavy breath in her lungs.

“We’re going to San Francisco, baby!”

Even with the heat inside and the pain simmered underneath, Sam still lunged to her feet and she followed Belinda out to California.

“God, take me home,” Sam muttered. “Take me home to Testament.”

Right before her very eyes, through the fire and the fog, there came that little Danish man with the slight mullet around the smooth bald spot upon his head and his deep-set eyes alight at the sight of her.

“I heard you’re not doing too well,” he confessed to her; it was right then she noticed the wedding band gone from his finger. The soft look on his face told her everything that she needed to know right then as well. He was losing his hair and she was losing her mind.

“I have multiple sclerosis,” she told him in a broken voice. “Some days, it’s nearly impossible to do anything because the pain is so bad, or I've got a high fever. I feel my mind slipping away more and more every day it feels like.”

“Not to make light of your situation, but that literally sounds like a lyric James would’ve written,” he told her in a soft voice.

“You should relay it back to him,” she joked. “Relay it back to him for the next Metallica album.”

“We are already in the process of putting one out, but I think I can work something, however.”

“Oh, yeah? You guys are doing a new one?”

“Calling it Death Magnetic. We're aiming for some time next year—maybe around the time Testament and Exodus both put out their new ones.”

“I miss you, Lars,” she told him.

“I miss you, too, Sam,” he replied. “And I am going to miss you when you’re gone, too.”

“You better,” she teased him.

Through the fog, he shifted his weight and inched closer and closer to her.

“I may have a new girlfriend now after my marriage to Skylar ended, but I’m always going to think about kissing you every so often, though,” he confessed to her in a soft whisper. “I am European. What do you want.”

She giggled at him and she caressed the side of his face with the tips of her two main fingers.

“You are European,” she remarked. She couldn’t remember if Lars kissed her on the cheek or not, but the next thing she knew, she was in a brand-new room with Belinda and Testament, which at that point consisted of Chuck, Eric, Alex, Greg, and one of Slayer’s many drummers, Paul Bostaph.

It was as if the rest of the year hadn’t happened, and she had found her way back to them again.

That alone was enough to make her recoil back.

She shook her head and she hobbled back towards the back door.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” Belinda called after her; the five men in the room paid very little attention to them, but Sam didn’t want them to see her like this, anyway.

She buried her face in her hands and turned away from all of them. Belinda rested a hand on her shoulder and leaned in closer to her.

“Are you okay?” she whispered to her.

“No,” Sam wept. “I want to die, Bel. I want to fucking die. I can’t keep doing this. I'm not getting any better and everything’s just slipping away around me.”

“Therapy’s not helping?”

“It’s barely helping. I can’t keep doing this. You're the first person I've told this to, too, but I gave myself until 2010 to live. If I don’t improve by then, I don’t want to keep going.”

Nothing could deny the wounded look upon Belinda’s face at that.

“And here it is, summer 2008,” she said in a soft voice. She nibbled on her bottom lip and then she took out a smooth rectangle out from her pocket.

“What’s that?” Sam asked her.

“My new phone. I can get internet on this thing...” Belinda typed something on the smooth touch screen. Meanwhile, in the next room, their voices became more and more indistinct, and yet, even with her own brain fog, Sam recognized Alex’s big one against the tapestry of nothing.

Belinda led her back to the room and they returned to their spots on the edge of the room as Testament proceeded to jam out a new song from their new album.

“There’s a doctor near here,” Belinda started right into Sam’s ear, “there’s a few doctors near here, actually—all of them give the option to die with dignity.” She sighed through her nose and she raised her gaze up to Sam with a grave look upon her face.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Belinda whispered to her.

“Well, I can’t do it right now,” Sam confessed to her. “I have Testament to worry about in the meantime. I have to at least see them off again when Alex and Greg are back in the saddle again.”

“Well... yeah. Obviously.” Belinda nodded her head at that. “But when you’re ready, anyway.”

The two of them fell into brief silence, and they turned their attention off to the right. To think all five of these men had their whole lives ahead of them at that point.

It seemed so backwards to Sam, that she had numbered days from that point forward, and they were going ahead into their golden years as a band reunited. She looked over at Chuck, who looked as healthy as he had ever been in years at that point with his long hair down past his shoulders and over his barrel chest. There was Eric, who had filled out with time and recovery himself, and yet he never sprouted a single gray hair on the crown of his head. Greg and his full beard, and he had still remained slender and svelte even after almost five years, even after over twenty years. Their new-to-them drummer Paul off in the back somewhere with his little drum kit in order to practice. And then there was Alex, still a boy at heart even with his lanky little body and his scruffy little bob of inky black hair complete with that gray streak over the right side of his forehead.

These five men, with a brand-new album on the horizon and possibly a tour that summer, with everything at their fingertips in a way that she had only dreamed of before.

There came a point in which she had to let go and let them go about their merry way. It was their life from that point onward, not hers. She had her own to deal with and worry about in the end.

“Yes,” Sam replied to her as they launched into their old song “The Ritual” right then before them. For a while, Sam had forgotten this song, and the way in which it spoke to her, especially at that very moment: the way Chuck crooned over the lyrics and the way Alex mourned over the solo. As if her boys were singing her to sleep, and it also felt as though they were bleeding from the loss of her.

“I’ll do it,” she told Belinda in a low voice. Belinda then sighed through her nose and she jotted down a couple of phone numbers for her.

Neither of them said anything as Testament’s jam session continued for the whole entire day, just like twenty years ago. Sam thought about Teddy right then, another one with his whole life ahead of him: all she could hope for was that he would see them if and when they came to San Diego in the future, especially since that was his home. There was in fact, nothing better than seeing them at home, something that she could wholeheartedly attest to.

By the session’s end, Belinda offered to take Sam back to the loft for the evening, lest one of them know of her plan, but even with the plan a very real possibility, there was no way she could miss any more of these sessions, if and when her condition acted up again.

When the two women returned home to New York the next day, and Belinda walked with Sam back to her front step, she handed her the piece of paper.

“If and when the time comes,” she started again, that time in a lower voice. “Don’t you dare tell me about it. I don’t want to know. And I know for a fact that Marla, Zelda, and your parents aren’t going to want to know.”

Sam nodded her head.

“Now, the big question: what should I do with your art?” Belinda asked her.

“Donate it. Donate everything. Apparently, you’re pretty much my manager now. You've got to take care of these things for me, Bel.”

She closed her eyes and bowed her head at that. Without further hesitation, Sam unlocked her front door once again, and she lugged her things into the front part of the apartment.

“Sam?”

“Mm-hm?”

“In case I never see you again—” Belinda threw her arms around Sam’s body and held her as close as ever. Sam closed her eyes and relished in that moment with her. If nothing else, besides the memories, she could take in Belinda’s essence one last time before she went, either by dignity or by the stripping away of her own nerves.

She had no clue if she was to see Belinda again before she flew out to the Bay Area again, but at the same time, she knew that she would be alone all the while.

All alone on that large airplane from New York City to San Francisco. Had she still been a fashion student, things would have been a lot rosier. If anything, she thought about her training as a fashion artist: she did have her journal on hand, after all.

With the ache in her back, she lunged for her purse and she took out her journal and her pencil. She plunked it open and began to sketch it out. A bit of comfort for the one always in pain. Something soft and sweet and silky in texture, and something sporty to keep herself moving in the face of it all. She hoped that Belinda would see her intent there and roll with it as she stepped off of the plane and back into the Bay Area. Her leg ached from the pain and she hobbled along the sidewalk.

Everything around her felt like a dream at that point, and the heat in her head only added to the feeling. A dream and a fairytale, like something straight out of her own childhood.

Her memory was slipping sideways, every which way possible and there was nothing she could do about it.

There was a stretch of time in which she found it all the more difficult to walk even with the cane. Everyone was getting ahead in life, and especially at that age, but she seemed to be losing her mind each and every day. Even with the therapy behind her all the time it felt like, she still had plenty of trouble abound.

The memory of Lars was still with her, even as she stumbled her way somewhere. She swore that she needed someone else there with her just to help her out with some other things. She yearned to have Belinda with her or at least her mother.

The condition hit her harder than a ton of bricks, especially when the world around her seemed to falling away yet again. She had ventured into a rouse of pure blackness once again, one that was loaded up with sheer agony and pain. The end was upon her, and all too quickly on top of this as well.

It didn’t seem that long ago that life was faring so well for her and yet, something had to happen to make her realize that she didn’t know what she had right before her. Something had to happen for her to realize the preciousness of it, of all those times in school and with Testament.

She was an art student, a fashion student, and an earth science student, and she graduated from the latter two high up in the field.

And yet, through the veil of the disjointed haze around her, therein stood a vague dark figure at the very pinnacle of the light. He stood there, misshapen, and she swore that this was the mysterious man from her dreams, and he had all but come to life right before her very eyes, in all of his dark glory.

But then again, he was nothing more than a figment of her own mind, the part of her that wanted to improve on everything that she had found flaw in over the course of the last twenty or so years.

The figure loomed before her and he extended a hand out to her as if he was about to comfort her, right out of the gray timeless haze, as timeless and amorphous as the ocean itself.

“Sam?”

She recognized the voice but she couldn’t exactly tell as to who was saying it, if it emerged from the mouth of the figure before her or if it came from somewhere else behind her.

“Sam!”

She blinked several times and she saw that she was back in the front room there, and with Eric as well. He had plunked his guitar across his lap and even though she had sustained yet another momentary lapse of memory, he remained straight-faced all the while.

“It happens,” she told him with a gentle massage of her right temple.

“Comes with the whole deal,” he followed along with a frown and a sullen nod of his head. He ran his stubby fingers through his inky black hair and leaned closer to her.

“You know what’s something I'm really going to miss about you?” Eric started again.

“What’s that?”

“I would say, ‘everything’, but I don’t think for one minute that it would encapsulate how I feel about you, though,” he confessed as he adjusted the wedding band on his left ring finger and then followed it up with a smirk.

“Oh, no, Eric, don’t.”

“I’m thinkin’ about it,” he confessed to her, and he showed her a sly smirk and a wink of his brown eyes.

“I also want you here because we’re gonna be on the road again—Alex will be with us, too, I guess his contract with Trans-Siberian Orchestra is up at the end of this year so he’ll be able to join us for this tour and then anything else we might have in store. I want you here because—you said you wanted to seize the day.”

“I do,” Sam replied with a nod.

“Well then—” Eric held the pick in between his fingers and he treated her to a wandering riff that reminded her of “The Ritual.” “Seize it.”

He then turned his attention to her, and he leaned to the side, and he pressed his lips to the side of her face.

“What was that for?” she asked him.

“For being you all these years,” he replied in a soft voice. “I don’t know where I would be without you, Sam. Sam I am.”

Though she knew she had returned home again, she sustained another lapse in memory, and this time it came about in a much longer fashion. She swore that she saw Trans-Siberian Orchestra again with Alex for his final tour with them, but she couldn’t hardly recall it.

All she could remember was pain in her body and the realization that Alex was once again, about to move onto greener pastures, and that time with the band that he had watched grow and change from the ground up from the very beginning. None of it felt fair to her, especially after what Eric had said to her. She was as important as anyone, even with the aches and pains and the loss of memory and mobility every so often.

Her memory returned almost at the very last minute one summer, and she knew that that was it after that. The time was whittling down for her.

And yet, by some strange stroke of luck, she managed to capture a message from Alex on her old phone, which she barely used. Or at least she thought she barely used.

It was as if he knew what she wanted for herself, and he had planned on telling her goodbye.

“Samantha, hi! It’s Alex.” She cracked a smile at the sound of his voice, now warmer and rounder than ever. “I know, it’s been a while—a couple of years, actually—that's what happens when you have prior obligations to a whole mess of other things. Anyways, uh—meet me up in the woods upstate tomorrow evening, right near the place where Stormtroopers of Death recorded their first record. You know where it is. It's pretty important and I don’t know who else to talk to about it. I'll see you then.”

With the return of clarity came the ability to drive once again. But as far as she knew, it could go away again once the medication wore off.

“After this, I'm just going to go back to the Bay Area and ask for those pills,” she said aloud on the ride up to that place: she couldn’t remember what had happened the day before, but she did in fact remember the way up to that old place. “I’m done with this.”

It was a bout of news in which she swore that would never happen to her as she made her way back to that old quiet place in the woods. She wondered as to the matter of importance surrounding it as that old patch of the forest stirred up so many memories, especially since it was right near where Stormtroopers of Death had recorded that very first album and she oversaw the whole thing. Like a lifetime ago, and it had all but slipped away from her at that point.

He loomed against the trees as if he was a wiry giant who inhabited them, complete with that full mop of inky black hair that fanned out from his head as if he was lying flat on his back.

“Please give me a reason to live, Alex,” she muttered to herself as she hobbled closer and closer to him. She had set the date and she was going to live by it as well, especially with all that had happened up to that point in the last couple of years. The clock was ticking over her head and if nothing else, Alex was going to be the last person she would ever see. If nothing else, he had to know that she planned on going soon.

“I’m so glad I was able to catch you here when I did,” he greeted her in that smooth voice of his, so gentle and soothing even after all these years. He ran his fingers through his hair so she could better see his face, into those deep steely blue eyes and upon those delicate little cherry lips. To think she would never caress those lips again after this. But it was what she had to do for herself: there was no way she could live on with the insurmountable pain in her body.

“Now, I want you to understand that I haven’t told anyone about this. I haven’t told my brother or either of my parents this yet, it’s just that big.”

“What is it?”

“I met someone.”

“You met someone,” she echoed him.

“Yes.”

Sam squinted her eyes at him. “A woman?”

He shifted his weight and bowed his head a bit, and he showed her that sweet expression, the one that she was all the more familiar with especially when it was thrown her way.

“Yeah. We, uh... met through mutuals and more or less hit it off right on the spot.”

“Is she musical like Zelda?”

“Not really. She’s an architect. She’s got like a bunch of degrees surrounding it, too. I mean, a bunch of degrees, too: you think the two of us worked hard in school. Her education extends back to the Souls of Black tour, believe it or not.”

“Holy wow,” Sam blurted out, stunned.

“She’s also an artist herself, and a writer,” he continued, and almost to the point of gushing. “Like a Renaissance woman of sorts.”

“Makes me feel pale in comparison,” she confessed with a shake of her head.

“Don’t,” he told her with a wave of his hand. But then Sam stepped away from him and towards the trees.

He frowned at her. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t really expect to hear all of this. When you told me it was good news, I was thinking of... something else.”

He turned his head to the side a bit, bemused. Silence surrounded them right then. Sam had nothing else to tell him, especially with the medicine wearing off right then and there for the wearing of her nerves. But then she thought of it as he knitted his eyebrows together and tilted his head to the side, as if he was a curious puppy.

“I just want you to be happy,” she told him in a small voice.

“Well... I feel the same with you, Samantha,” he promised her. “You always looked great to me whenever you were happy. If anything, I always loved it whenever you felt happy.”

He pursed his lips together and then he opened his arms for her. She lunged for him, but he held her back from his little body.

“I want you to be happy regardless,” he said to her in a low voice. “I know, the clock is ticking for you. But look at you, though! You're doing amazing. And you always have, too—even when the car impaled you and you had been knocked unconscious for four months straight.” He threw his arms around her: the mere caress of his hands and his arms made her ache even more, but he was holding her and that was all that mattered to her at that moment.

“You know I always love you, right?” he whispered to her.

“Of course.”

She thought of kissing him, but she had already had her fill of kisses, between Lars and Eric in particular. He then lifted his head as if something caught his attention. Sam turned around for a look herself: the bus rolled up to the bus stop up the street, right before that ramshackle old building.

“I have to go, Samantha,” he told her. “I’d hug you longer, but—” He shrugged and gestured back to the bus, and he bowed away from her: all the while, he put his sunglasses back on over his face despite the waning sunlight.

“Call me when you get home,” she called out to him, and he lowered his sunglasses and flashed her a wink. To think, she had just had him in the palm of her hand at one point. He was so close and just like that, he slipped away from her yet again. She had been handed opportunity after opportunity when the two of them were together, and even more so when they tied the knot with one another, and yet she squandered every change.

Even their short marriage couldn’t suffice it. It made no sense to her, especially when she looked back on all of her memories with him. She seemed to be the obvious choice, and yet she was the one who had missed it the whole time. She never actually told him how she felt about him.

Sam shook her head as she watched Alex take his seat on the bus for the long ride back to his new woman. She shook her head at herself more than anything.

She had no one to blame or get angry at other than herself, enough to make anyone want to return to the doctor for those pills.

He was so close right then, and yet she remained so far away at the same time. And she knew that it was time to let go of her world at that point. But there was one thing that still nagged at her, one thing that would always remain with her even after twenty-five years of living in New York, surrounded by fellow lost souls and each and every one of them as fleshly and earthly as her. She watched the bus lumber away up the street into the setting sun and away from the quiet place, and all the while, she focused on it.

Somehow, by some dark magic, she was able to find the last glimmer of light within her, the thing that told her to keep going despite the monolithic, searing pain all along her dying nerves.

Somehow, by the matter of inadvertence, Alex had given her a reason to live, and it made her shake her head about, even with the pain in her shoulders and within her neck.

That afternoon at Marla and Charlie’s place. A fleeting thought, but a thought nevertheless, as dastardly as Stormtroopers of Death themselves.

That was it.

And then, through the haze of her breaking mind, she thought of those words. Alex was still her best friend no matter what happened, but she had to let the air out of the bag, even as he disappeared off into the sunset.

“She’ll never love you the way that I’ve loved you,” she said aloud. “No one will ever love you the way that I have loved you.”

2 notes · View notes