#please I want finger tattoos sooooo bad

[horrorlesbians]

normalize hand tattoos for people with boring, normal careers 2023

#🦌 #please I want finger tattoos sooooo bad

[itsnothesameasitwas]

hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

#friends to lovers #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hljournal #hlsource #my fic rec #larry fic rec #themed fic rec #long post #this a REAL LONG POST #sorry but yk... #fics can't wait heheh #when I was looking for fics through what I have read I noticed this is one of those tropes I barely read #but I’m always willing to read :) #hope it helps:D #ask #louisloverera

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

matching tattoos

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k (the longest i’ve done in a while whoo 🎉)

"Stevie, I don't think your mom will be too happy with me if I let you do this," Harry said, eying his two year old daughter. She had been asking about it for weeks, but so far he'd been able to distract her before you caught wind of their conversation.

"Pleeeease, daddy?" She pouted, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

"Why don't we have some cookies instead, love?" 

"No." 

"Ummm... oh! I know what we can do! Why don't we go in my studio? You can play the piano, or the guitar, maybe sing a song for me..." He trailed off.

"I want to do this! Please?" 

Harry's heart melted in three seconds flat. How could he say no to her? He tried, he really did. He opened his mouth to say "no, mommy will really kill me, why don't we do something else?" but one glance at her sweet face left him speechless. He couldn't do it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"Alright, we'll do it... but!" He cut himself off, raising his voice slightly to be heard over her excited cheering. "But! We only have two hours til mommy gets home." She nodded eagerly, bouncing on her feet. 

"And if we do this it has to be our secret, mommy can't know. Can you keep this secret?" He said, making a very serious face. 

"Yes!" She squealed, giggling. 

"Pinky promise?" 

She beamed, holding her tiny hand up to his. He wrapped his finger around hers, squeezing for just a second before releasing her. 

"Go get the markers then, we have to work fast!" 

Stevie screamed in excitement, running as fast as her little legs could carry her. He heard her digging around the art room, probably making a huge mess, before he heard a scraping noise on the wood floor. She was pushing a box of markers that was nearly as big as she was, groaning dramatically. 

"It's... too... heavy," she panted.  "Please help!" 

Harry smiled, leaning down to pick up the box. He scooped her up too, settling them both down on the table. 

"Alright, Miss Styles," he said, adapting a posh accent. "This is a proper tattoo parlor, so we shall do this properly, hm?" 

She laughed, kicking her feet. 

"I want the mermaid!" She said, pointing to the ink on his forearm. 

"Patience, Miss Styles," He smiled, wetting a paper towel under the faucet. "First, we have to get your arm ready!" 

She held out her arm, tracing her little fingers over his other tattoos as he wiped her wrist with the cloth. 

"So, the mermaid, hm? You have excellent taste, Miss Stevie," he joked, throwing the towel back to the sink. "What color?" 

"Black, like yours," she said, smiling sweetly. 

He felt his heart squeezing as he reached for a black marker. She was so precious. He would do anything, literally anything, to make her happy. He knew it was probably dangerous, how much power this two year old had over him, but he didn't care. He had been in love with her since the day she was born; since the first time he had looked at her. 

"We can match, look at that!" He said, beginning to draw on her arm. "Did you know that I love you sooooo much?" 

"I love you too, daddy," she giggled. "And that tickles!" 

"Oh, it tickles, does it? Should I stop?" He hovered the marker over her skin, glancing at her teasingly. 

"No!" She yelled. "I want to match you!" 

"Alright then," He said, laughing as he went back to his task. "Why don't we listen to some music?" 

"Yeah!" 

"What should we listen to?" 

"Your song, the fire!" 

"The fire?" Harry looked up, confused. "None of my songs have fire in them, bug." 

"Yes," she said stubbornly. "And the fish!" 

Harry thought for a second before it clicked. "Do you mean Adore You?" 

"That one!" 

"You're right," He laughed. "That one does talk about fire. I'll get it, yeah?" 

He set down the marker, picking up his phone. After a minute, she was dancing in her seat to the drums of Adore You. When the chorus came on, she sang "walk through fire for you" while looking at Harry triumphantly. 

"Did you know this song is about mommy?" He said, focusing on his drawing. 

"Really?" She asked incredulously, eyes wide. 

"Really! It's about how much I love her." 

"Yucky," She said, scrunching her nose.

  "Yucky? That's not yucky!" he exclaimed. "It's nice!" 

Stevie hummed, kicking her feet along with the music.

   "It's yucky." 

"Stevie, you're hurting my feelings!" He said, gasping and clutching his chest dramatically. "I can't go on," he sighed, throwing his other arm over his forehead. "I'm sorry, daddy," She giggled, reaching up to pull his arm back to her. "Keep going!" 

He smiled, adding the finishing touches to her drawing.

"And... there we go! One mermaid, just for you." 

She beamed, holding her arm next to his to compare. 

"Daddy... your mermaid has no clothes. She needs some." 

"How about you draw her a shirt?" Harry laughed, handing her the marker. She furrowed her brow, focusing intently on her task. 

"Good job staying in the lines, love!" He said, ignoring the scribbles around the outline. "And you were right, it does tickle." 

"I know!" She laughed, giving the marker back. 

"What now?" 

"The... the heart!" She said, pointing the the small filled in shape on his upper arm. 

"Sure, that's an easy one." 

He proceeded to give her at least ten more matching "tattoos", including a cross, an anchor, a poorly drawn rose, and the green bay packers logo. 

"Daddy!" She gasped. "I have a idea!" 

"What's your idea, princess?" 

"The butterfly! On my belly!" 

"You want a butterfly on your belly?" He asked, lifting his shirt to show her his. "Like this?" 

"Yes!" She clapped. "Like that!" 

They were having the time of their lives, drawing and singing as loud as they could to all of Harry's songs. He loved watching her face every time he finished drawing. Her eyes would light up and she would pull his arm to hers, showing him how they matched. Every time a new song came on she would squeal and kick her legs because "it's my favorite song!" 

They had just finished making silly noises together at the end of "Sunflower" when Harry heard a noise. He froze with the marker on her arm, looking up quickly. 

He reached over to pause the music, holding a finger to his lips when she whined at him. He glanced at the clock, hoping he was just imagining things. You weren't supposed to be home for another hour. But no, that was definitely the sound of the front door opening, followed by your voice calling out a greeting. 

"Mommy!" Stevie shrieked, launching herself off the table. 

"No!" Harry hissed, grabbing her before she could run off. "Stevie, we have to wash this off!" 

He scooped her up, running up the stairs to the bathroom. 

"Harry?" You called out. That was weird. You could have sworn you heard them in the kitchen. "Stevie?" 

"We're- we're upstairs, love!" Harry yelled back. "Just cleaning up!" 

Cleaning what? You wondered, but didn't dwell on it for too long. It had rained recently, so they had probably gotten muddy outside. 

You made your way to the kitchen with the grocery bags, beginning to put everything away. Then you saw the box of markers. You narrowed your eyes, confused when you realized there was no paper around. What had they been drawing on? 

Up in the bathroom, Harry was starting to panic. He had set Stevie up on the counter while he was rubbing at the ink with a washcloth. 

"It's not coming off! Why isn't it coming off? The box said washable!" 

"No, don't take my mermaid!" She cried, pushing his hands away. 

"Stevie, love, I'm sorry, but we can't let mommy see these. Remember? They're secret tattoos." 

"Mommy will like them! They're nice," She pouted. 

"No, I don't think she will," Harry said, laughing nervously. "Maybe if we..." he grabbed the bottle of soap, dumping some onto the cloth. "There we are! Whew," he sighed in relief. "Good thing that worked, or daddy might have been sleeping on the couch tonight." 

Just as he was lifting her off the counter, he heard a knock at the door.

  "Harry? What are you doing in there?" 

He swung open the door, smiling charmingly. 

"Just a little cleanup! We... spilled some yogurt. Right Stevie?" 

She nodded, looking up at you innocently. 

"Ok... why were there markers all over the table, but no paper to use them on?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Uh... we were going to color, but then... the... yogurt explosion..." 

"Oh, I see," you said, still suspicious. "Stevie," you said, kneeling down to be at her eye level. "Is daddy telling the truth?" 

Harry held his breath. Stevie was notoriously bad at lying. Usually, Harry was thankful for this, but right now he could do with a little fib.

"Yes mommy, yogurt went everywhere," she said, eyes going wide as she mimicked an explosion with her hands.

You smiled, straightening up. 

"Well, I'm glad you got it cleaned up. I'm going to go put the rest of the groceries away." 

Harry exhaled as you got to the bottom of the stairs. He quickly lifted Stevie up, spinning her around. 

"Thank you, Stevie. You're such a sweetie," He said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She giggled, wiping her face and wiggling in his arms.

"Let's go see what mom bought us!" He said, bouncing her as they ran downstairs. 

Harry thought he was in the clear. He really did. He had managed to scrub off all traces of the marker, including the scribbles drawn over his own mermaid. Luckily, Stevie was true to her pinky promise and didn't say a word. She told you about how they played outside and what books they read, but said nothing about the makeshift tattoos. She was good at being sneaky.

By the time Stevie was yawning, Harry really though everything was fine. When you went to change her into her pajamas, he settled into the couch to find a movie. 

Everything is fine, he thought. You had no id-

"Harry!" You yelled from down the hall. 

He hopped up from his seat, rushing to Stevie's room. 

"What is it?" 

"Harry," you said, turning towards him slowly. "Why does our daughter have a huge butterfly drawn on her tummy?" 

So close.

#harry styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader fanfiction #stevie #stevie fics #fluff #fluffy #harry styles x you #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction #dad!harry

[eeveecryptid]

※ BORDERLANDS: CL4P-TP EDITION

Various lines that Claptrap bots have said through Borderlands 1, Pre-Sequel and 2. feel free to change pronouns if needed. May include nsfw material. ( BL3 version here )

"Wow! You're not dead?" "Hey, check me out everybody! I'm dancin', I'm dancin'!" "Unce! Unce! Unce! Unce! Ooo, oh check me out. Unce! Unce! Unce! Unce! Oh, come on get down." "Yoo-hoooooooooo!" "I am the best robot. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I am the best robot. Ooh, ooh, here we go!" "Hey! Over here! I'm over here!" "Still haven't found the Vault?" "I'm over here!” "Rrrrrgh...this isn't working!" "Unce! Unce! I think I lost the beat... but, Unce! Unce!" "Wanna hear a new dubstep song I wrote? Wub! Wub--"  "(name) asked me to tell you about a, uh, ‘little sumthin' sumthin'’ s/he needs done. You should ask him/her about it!" "Did you find the Vault yet?" "Sure is lonely around here." "Oh my God, I'm leaking! I think I'm leaking! Ahhhh, I'm leaking! There's oil everywhere!" "I can see through time..." "My servos... are seizing..." "I can see... the code." "I don't like this... this is making me nervous. Take a deep breath- I can't breathe! This is just a recording of someone breathing! It's not real! It's just making me more nervous!" "I'm detecting a motor unit malfunction... I can't move! I'm paralyzed with fear!" "Please don't shoot me, please don't shoot me, please don't shoot me!" "Turning off the optics... they can't see me..." "The traveler will protect me. The traveler will protect me." "Good as new, I think. Am I leaking?" "The box is awaiting your attention." "Please open the box." "Yeah? Well, hmph!" [ gives the finger ] "Good luck!" "There's more to learn!" "Let me teach you the ways of magic!” "Magic waits for no one, apprentice!" "Still working on that quest?" "Shouldn't you be murdering something about now?" "Hey! You're TALKING to me! And I didn't even have an exclamation point over my head! This is the BEST day of my life!" "Sooooo... how are things?" "Hey, best friend!" "Yessss, look into my eyes. You're getting sleepy. You're getting... zzzzzz... Zzzzzz..." "Success! My spell to make you want to hang out with me worked!" "Stay a while, and listen. Oh god, please -- PLEASE! -- stay a while." "Away with thee!" "Don't you worry, minion! Give me one good shot at that (name) dude and I'll take them right out! I... just got some stuff to do first." "We've really come a long way, haven't we, minion? And you're still just as loyal as ever! Who's a good minion? You are! Yes you are!" "Yessiree! This whole place would completely fall apart without old Claptrap keeping things humming along!" "As a robot, I'm completely immune to (name)’s gas attacks. But that hasn't stopped me from incessantly cowering!" "And I thought bandits were bad BEFORE they had nightmare plants growing out of them!" "You already saved Pandora? But... but I'M the hero of Pandora! It's on my business card! I ORDERED SO MANY OF THEM!" "Sanctuary's gone? But the bank! All my stuff! All my crucial information! YES! I'M OFF THE GRID, BABY! NO MORE CREDITORS! Seriously, I owe a lot of people a lot of money." " The Vault Map is gone! Forever! It will never be found. Never, ever, ever-- is what I'll say to everyone I know while I look for it. " “ I can do more than open doors, sir/ma’am! We CL4P-TP units can be programmed to do anything from open doors to ninja-sassinate highly important Janitor-y officials! ” “ I once started a revolution myself. There were lots of guns and a lot of dying. You'd think I would have gotten some better benefits out of the whole thing but no, demoted back to door-opening servitude! ” “ ---Remember what? Are... are you my father? ” “ Are you god? Am I dead? ” “ I'M DEAD I'M DEAD OHMYGOD I'M DEAD! ” “ Thanks for giving me a second chance, (name). I really appreciate it. ” " Hey everybody! Check out my package! " " Let's get this party started! " " Glitching weirdness is a term of endearment, right? " " This time it'll be awesome, I promise! " " Look out everybody! Things are about to get awesome! " " Eww, what flavor is red? " "Where'd all my bullets go?" " Bullets are dumb. " " I need tiny death pellets! " " RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIVES! " " Oh, s/he's big...REALLY big! " " I am a tornado of death and bullets! " " Stop me before I kill again, except don't! " " There is no way this ends badly! " " This is why I was built! " " You call yourself a badass? " " Is it dead? Can- can I open my eyes now? " " I didn't panic! Nope, not me! " " Not so tough after all! " " I have gaskets tougher than you! " " That was me! I did that! " " Don't tell me that wasn't awesome! " " Wait, did I really do that? " " Aww! Now I want a snow cone. " " Freeze! I don't know why I said that. " " I can't feel my fingers! Gah! I don't have any fingers! " " Why do I even feel pain?! " " Why did they build me out of galvanized flesh?! " " That looks like it hurts! " " Oh, quit falling to pieces. " " Is that what people look like inside? " " Huh, robot's don't do that. " " Disgusting. I love it! " " It's about to get magical! " " You can't just program this level of excitement! " " Push this button, flip this dongle, voila! Help me! " " Square the I, carry the 1... YES! " " I have an IDEA! " " Round and around and around she goes! " " It's like a box of chocolates. " " If I had veins, they'd be popping out right now! " " Roses are red and/Violets are blue/Wait... how many syllables was that? " " Aww, I should've drawn tattoos on you! " " Tell me I'm the prettiest! " " Trouncy, flouncy... founcy... those aren't words. " " The robot is dead, long live the robot! " " Take these, gorgeous, you'll feel better! " " Some days, you just can't get rid of an obscure pop-culture reference. " " Oh darn, oh boy, oh crap, oh boy, oh darn. " " Do not look behind my curtain! " " I'm made of magic! " " Like those guys who made only one song ever. " " Everybody, dance time! Da-da-da-dun-daaa-da-da-da-dun-daaa! " " I brought you a present: EXPLOSIONS! " " Is this really canon? " " ... You're dead to me. " “ Nobody hurts my friends! " " Wubwubwub. Dubstep dubstep. Wubwubwubwub DROP! Dubstep! " " I'll stop talking when I'm dead! " " I'll die the way I lived: annoying! " " Come back here! I'll gnaw your legs off! " " This could've gone better! " " You look like something a skag barfed up! " " What's that smell? Oh wait, it's just you! " " Yo momma's so dumb, she couldn't think of a good ending for this 'yo momma' joke! " " You're one screw short of a screw! " " I bet your mom could do better! " " Good thing I don't have a soul! " " I'll never go back to the bad place! " " I have many regrets! " " Can I just say... yeehaw. " " You're the wub to my dub! " " So... does this make me your favorite? " " What are YOU doing down here? " " We're like those buddies in that one show! " " This is no time to be lazy! " " You can thank me later! " " You love me, right? " " You, me... keeping on... together? " " You versus me! Me versus you! Either way! " " Dance battle! Or, you know... regular battle. " " You wanna fight with me?! Put 'em up!.. Put 'em up? " " A million baddies, and you wanna hit me? Aww! " " I am so impressed with myself! " " Ha ha, this is in no way surprising! Ha ha! " " Don't bother with plastic surgery - there's NO fixing that! " " I am right behind you, Vault Hunting friend! " " I can do that too! ... Sorta... Except not. " " You jerks have NO idea what you're in for! " " I'm so glad I'm not one of those guys right now! " " YOU! ARE! SCARY! " " That is in no way disturbing. " " I did a challenge? I did a challenge! " " Glad I didn't mess that up. " " I feel... complete!.. That's weird. " " I actually did something right for once! " " Hmmm, the possibilities are an infinite recursion. " " Do any of these come with a new paint job? " " Which of these gives me my free will back? " " The moon is not enough! " " I'd do anything for a man/woman with a gun. " " At least I still have my teeth! " " Coffee? Black... like my soul. " " Crazy young whippersnappers...  " " I've finally got an electric personality! " " Wait, this isn't vegetable juice! " " Cool! Now we're both super-crazy-amazing! " " These are the best kind of cooties! " " Can I shoot something now? Or climb some stairs? SOMETHING exciting? " " Times like these, I really start to question the meaning of my existence. Then I get distra-hey! What's this? This looks cool! " " It would really stink if I couldn't control what I was thinking. Like, who wants to know that I'm thinking about cheese and lint, right? " " How does math work? Does this skin make me look fat? If a giraffe and a car had a baby, would it be called a caraffe? Life's big questions, man. " " Who needs memories when I can do all this cool stuff? Stuff that I currently am not doing! That's what I'd like to call a 'hint'. " " Does this mean I can start dancing? Pleeeeeeaaaaase? " " Ya know when there was that Vault monster scare? I had these friends, and boy times sure were scary! But, I didn't care because I had friends, and they were like... super-friends! And then they left me, but they saved the world and I was like 'I know those guys!' Even though they never came back after that I still knew they cared, because no one had ever been... nice to me before. ... What is this? My eye is like... leaking. " " It's really quiet... and lonely... (hums briefly) Also this 'stopped moving' thing makes me uncomfortable. It gives me time to stop and think... literally. I'VE STOPPED, AND I'M THINKING! IT HURTS ME! " " Oh. My. God. What if I'm like... a fish? And, if I'm not moving... I stop breathing? AND THEN I'LL DIE! HELP ME! HELP MEEEEE HEE HEE HEEE! HHHHHHHELP! " " Ahem, ahem. What's going on? Did I break something? " “ You hear me, (name)?! You killed my friends! You destroyed my product line! I am the last Claptrap in existence, AND I AM GOING TO TEABAG YOUR CORPSE! ” “ You think a door can stop me, (name)?! I was MADE to open doors! ” “ Dammit, (name) - how did you know stairs were my ONLY weakness?! Next to electrocution, and explosions, and gunfire, rust, corrosion, being kicked a lot, viruses, being called bad names, falling from great heights, drowning, adult onset diabetes, being looked at funny, heart attacks, exposure to oxygen, being turned down by women, and pet allergens! Your brilliance is matched only by your malevolence! ” “ I'm just gonna go ahead and cloak now. You can't hear me crying if I cloak! (sobbing) stairs, why did it have to be stairs? I'll never climb those stairs! ”

#ask meme #borderlands rp meme #sentence starters #indie rp #inbox meme #rp meme #rp ask #rp ask meme #askbox meme #askbox starters #rp sentence meme #sentence starter meme #rp sentence starters #inbox memes #indie starters #rp inbox meme

[rhythmsectionbros]

You Should Have Been There | a present QUEEN fic

current/present era 

not shippy but multi-friendship Brian/Roger/John

PG-13 ~for language

words: 8.4k

summary: Jim Beach’s call was unexpected, perturbing Brian’s & Roger’s preparations for the coming 2020 European Tour, but it did pique their curiosity –or how an unexpected change is going to disturb their perfectly planned coming months (for the context of the fic, they didn’t talk to John in years -yes, i refuse to believe this is true irl but let’s say in fiction, it is!)

warnings: mention of death and fatal illness **if you are uncomfortable with such topics even in the world of fiction, please don’t read it**

A/N: sooooo my first ‘long’ fic (and likely my last!). This is, of course, 10000% fiction and I feel very insecure about it for plenty of reasons –you will understand when you will read it. In advance, I am very sorry if I offend anyone! AND THANK YOU TO MY LOVELY BETA ♥

you can read the fic on Ao3

and here a playlist i made on youtube to go with the fic

-

10th December, 3:20 p.m.

-

“Maybe it’s about a second movie?”

“For fuck’s sake Brian. I hope not!”

There is a ‘ding’ before the doors open and the two men walk out of the elevator towards Jim ‘Miami’ Beach’s office. His call earlier that week was unexpected, perturbing Brian’s & Roger’s preparations for the coming European Tour, but it did pique their curiosity. The remnant snow on their shoulders melting, Brian brushes the rest out of his white hair while Roger removes his scarf and rubs his nose with his thumb and forefinger, groaning quietly.

“It is Disney we are talking about Rog,” Brian continues and casts a glance over his bandmate who is still wearing sunglasses even in December. “They can do whatever they want. And without our approval.”

Roger rolls his eyes and snorts.

After a few more steps (and a few more cuss words from the drummer), the two men catch sight of Miami pacing back and forth in the corridor leading to his office. The producer spots them. “Hello, guys!”

“Hi Jim,” Brian answers with a smile, offering his hand, and Roger does the same.

“Hello, Jim.”

“Glad you could come even with the bad weather. Surprising for an early December, right? I know this invitation is unplanned but it’s always a pleasure to see you both.” There is an unusual tension in the older man’s voice, and a smell of cigarette around him despite having quit years ago. “When was the last time?”

“For the celebration of… something?” Roger jokes.

“Exactly,” the guitarist nods with a smile, white curls following the movement.

“Really?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer. “Hmm, please. Follow me.”

The three men pass by a receptionist, dozens of unknown faces and more gold albums hung on walls to finally reach the polished oak door of Jim’s office.

Without any warning, he stops and turns, Brian nearly running into him. “Look! I– it was not my idea, but I couldn’t really say no, you see.”

“Oh no,” Roger whispers under his breath as he takes his glasses off. “Brian, I think you were right.”

“What?” Jim frowns and shakes his head. “No, no. Look… Just, don’t hold it against me, alright?”

Their attentions are piqued once more.

The hinges creak lightly as the producer opens the door and the two musicians step into the office. This time, Roger is the one who nearly runs into the tall guitarist, all of sudden frozen. “What the…!” He looks up at his companion for a laugh but changes his mind when he sees Brian staring with intensity at something on the opposite side of the room. With interest, he follows the gaze. And he stops breathing.

There, standing across the table, a ghost.

“John.”

Brian’s voice is barely a whisper, but the name hangs in the air, out of place.

“Hello, Brian.” The reply is simple, short, almost absurd. Then, a light smile appears on his lips, and his eyes turn. “Hello, Roger.”

Silence is the answer from the drummer, who still doesn’t know the proper reaction to have. All Roger can manage is to bite the inside of his cheek, to prevent whatever feeling is about to come out.

In some way, Brian and Roger are not aware of the passage of time -their schedule relatively the same for 50 years (fewer parties tho), with concerts, rehearsals, tours, fans screaming their names… the pattern didn’t really change. And yet, now facing John, they feel the weight of those years in their very marrow. Their ex-bandmate looked the same, but oh-so different. John still has that smile and tooth gap, those unreadable greyish eyes surrounded by crow’s feet at their corners, that voice light like a cartoon character but sharp enough on its corners to cut you. However, he looks paler and shorter. The voice, raspier. No more hair, except on his temples. A little round belly and a weary face. Like theirs.

“This is a… surprise, to say the least.” Brian was always the diplomatic one, keeping his composure during interviews or answering questions when the other ones didn’t want to, and, well, he enjoys talking. So today, he decides once more to wear the UN Blue helmet.

John nods. “Nice euphemism Brian. I appreci-”

“I just remembered I have an important appointment,” Roger cuts John off, without sparing him a glance, “Like, right now actually.”

If eyes are truly the window to a person’s mind, then the drummer is literally reading in Brian’s eyes ‘What the actual bloody fuck Roger?!’ But instead, his older friend placidly asks: “An appointment?”

“Yeah, I can’t move it. Ophthalmologist,” he points at his eyes with a tattooed hand. “You know how long it takes to have a consultation.”

Behind Brian’s shoulder, Jim remains silent, way too familiar with Queen’s dramas to know when to step aside. The guitarist insists. “Seriously Rog’?”

“Yes, seriously Brian! I will call you later. Bye Miami.”

About to leave, his hand is on the door handle when he hears him.

“Roger.”

His good ear twitches at the sound and he turns to face his ex-colleague. “I have to leave your company, sorry. And maybe, oh I don’t know, you will never hear from me again,” Roger claims, a constricted grin on his lips, “But I imagine you are familiar with this concept, John.”

And then, he disappears, letting the door hiss quietly shut behind him. There is a moment of silence, a moment for the three other men to process what just happened. Once in a while, Brian too still tastes the sour vestiges of resentment and frustration, but he understands –oh yes, he understands so well why the younger musician decided to move away, and in all honesty, he has no right to judge him. “Sorry about that, John.” Brian talks first, and a wave of nostalgia hits him when he sees this old John shrugs nonchalantly.

“It’s okay. I expected such a reaction from him.”

“Well yeah… you know Roger.”

“No.” The pause after this word seems endless, “I don’t know him anymore.”

John’s trademark. The naked truth of what he is thinking, no matter if it hurts him or the one in front of him.

“And what reaction were you expecting from me then?”

“I hoped you would stay Brian.”

“I am staying.”

“Good.”

It’s not like these two men have never cared or loved each other. They are, reciprocally, both part of an interlude of 25 crazy years in each other’s lives, through thick and thin. Sure, conversation between them was not always easy –it happens between similar personalities, even if none of them would admit that fact. But now, in their twilight years, it seems that John is more inclined and at ease to talk with Brian, and such unanticipated development makes him smile.

“Okay, since the storm passed, I suggest we all take a seat,” Jim says and walks behind his desk to sit down.

John is about to follow suit and sit around the meeting table, but he stops mid-motion, noticing Brian is walking towards him. Unexpectedly, the taller man leans forward and wraps an arm around his ex-bandmates’ shoulders, drawing him into a short hug that’s awkward but, to John’s surprise, welcome nonetheless. He reciprocates, one hand resting on his back. “Did we already hug before?”

They pull apart and Brian takes a few seconds to consider the question. “I think we did, yes. Many times!”

That prompts a giggle from John, and both men eventually sit down around the table.

“So?” the guitarist starts with interest, “I guess you are not here to make small talks about families and such. Not that I wouldn’t love to hear about them.”

“Am I that transparent?” he jokes. “You’re right. They are all good by the way! But no, no. Actually, I have a favour –well, that is not the right word. I have something I would like to do but I won’t without your approval,” John explains, fingers running over the edge of the round table.

“Yeah, sure Deaky,” the old nickname slips out like it was never confined into the archive of Brian’s mind.

“It’s about my royalties. And my part in Queen’s legacy.” The words make Brian frown curiously but John carries on. “I no longer want to be the beneficiary of it. I want Veronica to be the exclusive recipient of any future income. I want her name to appear on any legal paper concerning Queen instead of mine from now.”

Silence.

“Really?” Jim abruptly asks from behind his desk.

John nods. “Yes. Look –it won’t change a thing for the other beneficiaries, you know? This modification won’t interfere with your royalties. Or Roger’s. Or anyone else. It’s just about my piece of the cake you know? And, I want it to be Veronica’s from now.”

The atmosphere changes in the room, just as the light in Brian’s eyes. “Right…”

“Brian look, do not think this request is about me denying or repudiating all I did with you. No. You’re wrong,” he explains, “…once more,” and adds with a sardonic smile the guitarist knows too well –that same mocking smile which often provoked feelings of homicidal rage from Brian decades ago. The vision is oddly soothing.

Brian smiles back. “I know Deaky.”

“And, I won’t do anything without your approval. Or Roger’s.”

“Well… as you said it changes nothing for us. So, I don’t see why I would have objections. And I think Roger wouldn’t be against it either.” Brian looks over his shoulders. “Miami?”

The manager holds his palms up in a show of agreement. “Sure. If everybody agrees… I guess you can come back in a week John. I will ask the lawyers to prepare them and the papers will be ready. Your presence is needed for the signatures though. Your wife’s too.” Jim flipped his datebook, nodding to himself. “What about next Thursday in a week, same time?”

A nod. “Alright,” the former bassist consents, quite pleased by the unanimity. “In a week. We will be there.” It seems like he wants to add something else, but his gaze gets drawn to his fists, both clenched and resting on the table.

“May I be curious?” The older guitarist asks after seconds of silence, “Why such a decision? Did you find some kind of trick to pay fewer taxes or…?”

John laughs gently, his reputation of being practical with money or even tight with it not forgotten. “I wish. But no, no it’s just—”

The sentence ends with a gap, so uncharacteristic of John. The man, behind his mask of quietude and composure, has one of the sharpest mind and tongue Brian knows -a talent that can make you want to curl on the ground and cry in two seconds. So, if John has difficulties to finish a line, it means something is very wrong. Brian instinctively holds his breath.

“I have cancer. Pancreatic cancer.” John states. “A quite aggressive one.”

Everything becomes much too quiet around them, and the only sound heard is a gasp from Jim.

Brian blinks and his intellect starts working quickly, as always, connecting the dots to remember what he heard about the disease and its possible outcomes. And what comes to his mind looks more like a noisy alarm siren with red flashing light than a formal report: Low survival rate. Between one to three years. Terminal.

His voice is nearly a whine. “…what?”

John stares at him for a moment, speculating what exactly the ‘what’ stands for, and decides. “I am at stage 4 to be more specific. They gave me between ten months and one year. And that’s why I want Veronica to be the exclusive beneficiary. I want to settle things, to protect my family,” he explains with a displaced monotonous tone. “I was diagnosed a month ago.”

No. Brian blanches. He feels the blood leaves his face and rushes to form a knot in the center of his chest. “How– why– Deaky, I…” He starts but doesn’t finish. “John did… how long…”

With a small smile, the former bassist takes pity of the guitarist and cuts him off. “I was diagnosed a bit late. I didn’t read the early signs properly I guess.” There is finality in his voice. “Cigarettes didn’t help either.”

And John shrugs.

He shrugs.

As if this didn’t really matter, as if he was talking about some restaurant that he didn’t like, and Brian only wants to grab his shoulders and shake some sense into him like he did a couple of times decades ago. Because no no no no no no it can’t be happening. Not again. In Brian’s rational mind, he is supposed to be the one dying next. The natural order. The oldest one. Not the youngest one!

“There is only a five percent chance of survival with surgery and very brutal chemo. And the survival is only of a few more months,” John continues steadily, “So I decided: no surgery or chemo.”

“Deaky! You can’t-”

“Don’t worry, I am not irresponsible,” he interrupts. “I have medication.”

Brian stares John over, lingering on his face, on how his hands rest on the table, rubbing his right thumb over the left hand’s knuckles; and maybe it’s cliché or not even true, but he’s now noticing how thinner and paler he looks. Not obvious signs, but there anyway.

“I had a very great life. I couldn’t have asked for anything more,” John continues, “Well, maybe the tiny regret for not having spent more time with a couple of friends,” he adds, chuckling humourlessly.

A blow in the guts would have been less painful, and Brian takes a deep, measured breath. “H-how has your family handled it?” The question sounds hollow, even to him.

“They have no real choice actually. The kids are dealing with it as best as they can. And Ronnie–” John pauses, feeling like a stone got stuck in his throat, and he swallows down. “–she has always been the strongest one. The rock of this family. I know she will endure and survive.”

“And you?”

“I am surprisingly fine. Tired, yes. But that’s all for now. The upcoming months… are going to be the hardest ones.” Again, a shrug. “Yeah, you really don’t need the details.”

They’ve gone from radio silence to nostalgic normalcy in the span of just ten minutes, and while they’ve been through too much to ever truly become strangers, Brian doesn’t expect to play the confidant yet.

“John–”

“It’s okay Brian. Look, I am not here to ask you or Rog or Jim anything, you know?” he says while observing the manager who is still hopelessly silent behind his desk and turns his attention back on his ex-bandmate. “I just thought that after everything we went through, the good and the bad, during years —I felt that I owed you that. I had to tell you, face to face.”

Loyalty. John decided to come out of loyalty. A hackneyed word nowadays, twisted and perverted in many discourses or ideas, but a word the three aging men understand at their very core.

“Could you tell Roger?”

“Deaky, I think… you should be the one telling him.”

“Well, I just tried,” John retorts with a tightening in his throat. “And I know you will handle him better than I, so… Could you tell him for me please?”

Brian nods, white curls bouncing around his shoulders, and John smiles. “Thank you.”

In a need of contact, the older man puts his hand on the younger one’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Hazel and grey eyes meet and the moment lingers comfortably.

Eventually, John clears his throat, in fear that his voice would break the next time he opens his mouth, and speaks: “Okay, huh, that’s enough attention on my insignificant self for one day,” he says, hands on the armrests to stand. “I have to go anyway. A doctor’s appointment at the hospital.”

John gets on his feet. At the same time, Brian moves forward and before John can escape it, wraps his arms around him in a tight embrace. The youngest of the old men stands stiffly but relaxes eventually, his hands finding the guitarist’s back to return the hug. He tries to remember the last time they held each other like this, and the memory of Freddie’s death comes to John’s mind. It makes his full body contracts, and Brian pulls him closer.

“I can’t remember if I’ve ever said it—”

“Don’t,” John warns, aware of what is coming. “No Brian. You really don’t have to.”

“—I love you Deaky,” Brian finishes, his voice trembling from suppressed sobs.

They don’t say anything during the next seconds, words pointless. Too many years and too much practice of silence between them taught the two men when there isn’t really anything to add. John bites down on the inside of his cheek to prevent tears from falling down, but the grey eyes are already glassy.

“I was- I am an awful friend,” he confesses against Brian’s shoulder.

Tightening his arms around John one last time, the guitarist pulls back.

“Of course you are!” He smiles. “It’s because you’re not a simple friend Deaky. You are a brother. You are family. And family can be such a pain in the ass!”

The two men giggle and take advantage of this interlude to wipe away what remains on their moist cheeks.

“I –it never was my intention, to hurt you or Roger, you know?” John whispers, and Brian’s only reaction is his hand finding his friend’s shoulder again. “Never. And if I did with my distance or silence. I am very sorry. It’s just— I had to.”

“We know that.”

“Sorry.”

“No. Don’t.”

“Okay.” Another shrug, and if it is not from the red in his eyes, it would be hard to guess the tears John shed seconds ago.

“I would like to see you again,” Brian says with hesitation. “If you are okay with that of course.”

“Don’t feel obligated Brian. You and Roger own me nothing, and I don’t want to be a bother.”

“What? No. Of course you’re not. Look, I am not suggesting deep and long conversations –unless you want it– but, I don’t know… maybe next week, after you signed the papers with Veronica, you could both come for tea time at my place? Or maybe for dinner?”

The slight frown that appears on John’s face convince Brian to be more specific. “It will be just you, Veronica, me, and Anita. She will be pleased to see you both. Just a simple dinner. Nothing fancy. The four of us.”

And at his own words, the guitarist turns to the manager, remembering his presence. “Sorry, Jim.”

“No problem.” he replies and raises his hands in a sign of support.

“So… is it that okay with you John?”

The former bassist manages only a one-sided grin, sort of crooked and almost a frown but his features eventually soften. “Yes, why not? A simple dinner.”

“The simplest one, yeah,” Brian confirms with a reassuring smile and his hand leaves John’s shoulder. “Great.”

As the meeting is clearly coming to an end, Jim coughs and joins the two other men standing by the table. He offers his hand to John, who takes it happily. “So, John, you can come back in a week. Same day, same hour. Or anytime, really!” he specifies. “But in a week, everything will be ready for you and Veronica: papers, contracts, ink…”

“Thank you, Miami.” The man smiles and Jim returns it, before walking towards the door to open it.

“I promise I will make an effort for the menu.”

John looks at Brian as they walk to the exit and he shakes his head with that smirk. “Meat?”

“Well…” A pause. “I will find something. It will be edible. I assure you. Pizzas maybe?”

“Finally! I was running out of battery.”

The way the three men freeze on the threshold and turn in synch is almost funny to Roger. Almost.

Brian’s hazel eyes widen slightly. “Rog’.”

“You stayed?” Jim continues.

“As you can see Miami! But don’t worry, I was not eavesdropping at your door,” he says and points at the red leather sofa behind him, “I was just there, on this very uncomfortable couch, reading magazines or the news on my phone, waiting patiently.” He crosses his arms over his chest: “Your door is too thick anyway…”

“And your appointment?” Brian asks only to unsettle the drummer

“Well, I mixed the days. Blame my poor old brain.”

“You could have joined us.”

“Oh no, I didn’t want to trouble this heart-warming reunion between you,” he turns, casting a side glance at John. “To be honest I am stunned that you stayed and didn’t vanish in the middle of this reunion to disappear, as you know how to do so well.”

“Roger.” Brian snaps.

“It’s okay,” John cuts him off, “I guess I deserve it.”

Such a reaction was unanticipated, and Roger’s answer is silence, disbelief written all over his face.

John steps closer but doesn’t extend his hand, preferring to look rude and impolite than endure another rejection. He stands still and presses his lips together, weary eyes lingering on his ex-bandmate, silently trying to sear into his memory a last glimpse of Roger.

This is it. As simple words as they are, his throat tightens up around them.

“It was good to see you, Roger.” A silent beat. “Goodbye then.”

He gives a smile and a nod, and turns away.

A tiny voice in Roger’s head tells him to stop John, to ignore the last decade, to offer him a pint of Fullers and to catch up the time wasted. But a much bigger voice starts to list the ignored messages, the months and years of silence, the distance he unilaterally chose to put between them… After deciding to turn his back on what they created, Roger knows he won the right to do the same now. A fair giving-back. Right?

“Can we get inside?” the drummer heads to the office without waiting for an answer.

Jim follows, and Brian doesn’t move, wearing an unreadable expression on his face as his eyes are still lingering on the now-empty corridor. “Sure Rog’…”

The three men enter the office: Jim finds again his place behind his desk, Brian prefers to stay up, looking outside the window, and Roger, without knowing it, sits down on the chair formerly occupied by John.

“So,” he begins with irritation, “it’s not that I am curious, but what did he want? He was there to ask something, right? So?” Only silence follows. “Hmm, Miami?”

The direct inquiry startles the manager and he straightens up on his chair. “He –wanted to talk about his royalties.”

“What? Why?”

“He, huh, wants his wife to be the exclusive recipient of them,” he explains, fiddling with the edges of his notebook. “He said that it changes nothing for you or Brian or anyone else. And he is right! But he wants your approval. Both of you.”

Roger shifts slightly in surprise and his stare searches for Brian for clarification but his friend is still by the window, his back to him.

“Yeah… yeah,” he pauses. “Right. It changes nothing actually. So, yes, I have nothing against that. He can do as he wants. I don’t care. But why though?”

“You should have been there,” Brian whispers, looking outside as melted snowflakes cling to the glass.

There is a hint of something in his old friend’s voice that Roger doesn’t like. Steadily, he turns in his chair to look up at him who still staring at the cotton wool clouds.

“Well, I wasn’t Brian.” And it is not even an excuse. “So… that’s it? He only wanted to talk about business and cash?”

After years of distance and silence, John decided to return into their lives to talk about money? Incredible. Out of frustration, Roger releases a sigh despite himself.

“He wanted to say goodbye.”

A frown flickers across the drummer’s face.

“Goodbye?”

After seconds in which Brian seems to debate his options, he turns around, facing now his bandmate. “He is ill. Very ill.”

Roger stares at him blankly.

“Pancreatic cancer. Stage 4.”

And something like ice floods Roger’s veins.

“You know what it means Rog’.”

Yes, he knows what it means.

He looks up at Brian, then back to Jim, then back at Brian and –his brain may have short-circuited a little, the only thought crossing it being ‘not again’. He can’t follow the shape of his own thought, can’t understand what he heard. It makes no sense! John was standing in front of him one minute ago. He looked perfectly fine! “You… must have heard wrong.”

“I was there,” Brian says.

“So was I,” Jim confirms.

And Roger was not.

Once the computer error in his brain fixed, he opens his mouth but no sound comes out, a solid weight in his stomach making him want to curl.

“What—” his big blue eyes take a look up at the guitarist to find some support. “What did he say?”

Brian exhales, taking a few steps to pull out a chair, and sits down by his friend’s side.

“He talked about his illness. He said that he was diagnosed a month ago, that… there is zero to five percent of chance of survival with a very damaging treatment, so he won’t do it,” he explains carefully, and Roger doesn’t realize he’s shaking his head all along. “He has between 10 months and one year. More or less.”

It feels like every last nerve in Roger’s body is white-hot as his blood runs cold.

Brian goes on. “He said that after all the things we went through together, he owed you a face to face conversation. He is not asking for anything… he just wanted us to know.”

Another deep breath and the guitarist rests his elbows on his knees, hands together as if he is about to start praying at any moment. “He said that he regrets to not have spent more time with us. He said that he didn’t want to cause us any hurt. He said that he was an awful friend.” With each additional assertion, a new wisp of hurt flashes into his voice.

“He said that he was sorry,” he whispers now. “You… you should have been there Rog’.”

Yes. He should have been there. Another bad decision he can add to the list of bad decisions taken in the haste of extreme feelings. Roger’s face remains stoic, and if it weren’t for his eyes growing slowly reddish and glassy, you’d almost think he hadn’t heard a word.

He feels dazed.

“I must see him.”

“Not today,” is Brian’s response, and Jim nods silently along. “He has an appointment at the hospital.”

The drummer sighs out at last and looks down at his hands. They are shaking.

“Call him tomorrow. I know you, Roger… You need a night to sleep on it, before you decide what to do or to say, without regrets.”

This paternalistic tone is really not what Roger needs to hear right now. He rises, muttering something under his breath, and starts pacing around the table like a caged lion, until he stops, and is, in turn, the one at the window. No doubt that all the eyes in the room are on his back.

“I was wondering,” the guitarist breaks the silence, “Our coming tour is—”

Roger’s whole body instantaneously spins. “Are you really thinking about the tour right now Brian?!”

“Yes, I am Roger!” he retorts as fast. “Because if I count properly, and I know I do, we will be on tour when he will—”

The line remains incomplete in his mouth, too consequential to finish it, and Brian grimaces at his own words. Roger feels nauseous.

The two friends held a silent conversation, eyes locked, and neither looked away until there is a tiny, choked gasp from the drummer. “I have to get out there. I need a walk…”, he mumbles. “To clear my head.”

Brian stands up, looking over his shoulder at Jim who nods, and starts to pull on his coat. “Yeah me too. I’ll come with you.”

-

11th December, 4:37 p.m.

-

The snow is falling in heavy clumps and the house is quiet. Veronica is having lunch with a distant cousin, the kids are out for christmas shopping and John listens to the rare silence. He likes silence.

Then a clatter of metal and the man sighs. Walking the few paces to the couch where he previously left it, he picks up his phone, and read the name of the caller. Roger. He looks at the screen again, almost seeming to ignore the call and to let Roger leaves a message to a metallic voicemail. Knowing his reluctance to anything hi-tech, this prospect sounds truly tempting -but John decides to slide the green button.

“Yes?”

A sharp intake of breath on the other end, followed by a long silence. “Hello. I–”

Silence again, and John furrows his brow. “Yes?”

“This… this isn’t easy.” Neither is this conversation. “I mean, I– I’ve always preferred face to face exchanges.”

“I imagine.” It’s so…diplomatic. Roger is a lot of things in the memory of the former-bassist, and diplomatic is not one of them. But people change.

John makes his way to the bay window. Snow swirls in the air, smothering the flowers on the house’s facade with a blanket. But a navy blue form against the white stands still by the house’s doorstep and catches John’s attention. The sides of his lips tilt upwards.

“Sorry Roger, I have to hang up. There is a Jehovah’s witness at my doorstep.”

Without waiting for an answer, he ends the conversation and pulls back the curtains of the window to enjoy the scenery.

Outside, standing immobile at the front door, Roger’s expression passes from surprise to confusion and then pure irritation in a matter of seconds. John even read along ‘what the fuck? what the fuck?’ on his lips. It is hard to say exactly how long he has been out, in front John’s place, waiting for the right moment, but by the substantial amount of snow on his hat, a good 10 minutes.

Roger’s vindictive monologue with the door is interrupted by a tapping on the window. He turns his face and finds John’s amused one through the pane. Oh shit… He shouldn’t have come. He should’ve lied. No! He shouldn’t have called John in the first place. After decades of crazy decisions taken in hast, Roger seems to have learned nothing from them.

But the front door opens too quickly to turn around.

Roger straightens up his stand. “Huh. John.”

“Roger.”

“Can I come in?”

Stepping aside, John lifts one hand in the air to emphasis his point, “After you,” and closes the door behind the unexpected-guest,

Prudently, Roger makes his way in the entrance, shaking the snow from his hat and shoulders, and unwraps the scarf from his neck. He’s clearly tense, blue eyes darting around constantly as if to ensure he is in the right house. And he is, the moments he once spent here bursting in his memory through a vault he thought locked tight.

“This place didn’t change. At all.”

“I like that,” John says as he steps into the living room, where Roger already laid his coat on an empty chair. “It is reassuring to have the same stable foundatio- ”

“Were you really not going to tell me?” Roger interrupted.

“I tried to tell you.”

“Well, you should have insisted more!”

Everything is quiet around them. Not a sound comes from the house or the street, every noise muffled by the snow, and all both men can hear for a moment  is Roger’s breath.

John sighs. “Look… if you came here only to be angry at me or to expound the many reasons for your hate for me, you should leave.”

“Hate?!” Roger face twitches like he’s trying hard to hold in a sneeze. “I don’t hate you! I wish I did though.”

“Okay… I guess?” To be honest, nothing is going on particularly okay. “So, huh, do you want to drink anything? Scotch? Water? Hemlock?” A white eyebrow raises at him. “Come on, you’re a biologist. It’s funny!”

“I’ve never b—” Roger suppresses a groan and John, a laugh. “Water would be fine for me.”

His answer is a smile and John disappears into the kitchen.

Hands in pockets, the old drummer shuffles alone into the living room, and he seems unsure how to proceed. He feels like an intruder. Out of place. Christ, this is awkward. The room is pleasant, elegant, and the furniture of good quality yet simple. Nothing too fancy or too modern -definitely not decorated by John. There is a table large enough to seat eight near the windows, and a corner sofa by the veranda, most likely placed there to take advantage of the light. He catches what he thinks is a dog bowl in the garden but John never has been very fond of pets, right? Or maybe his old eyes are playing tricks on him once more. And, in a corner, a Christmas tree with lace ribbons and ornaments.

“There is nothing in this living room indicating you were in a band,” Roger claims  loud enough for John, a very slight tone of blame in his voice. “Or that you are even a musician.”

“There is a piano in the veranda,” he answers from the kitchen, “but it is Ronnie’s.”

“Hm.”

John returns in the living room, two glasses of water in hands. “You know, I keep one picture with the four of us, in what I consider my office.” Roger’s eyes narrow a fraction at these words. “My basement-slash-garage, where I tinker with my electronic clutter or do my correspondence. And, yeah? I think there are an acoustic and a Fender as well? Somewhere?” John hands the glass to his guest, who seems unable to tell if the last statement is a hoax or the truth. “Your water.”

Silence again, and John tilts his head to look at Roger like he’s actually waiting for something.

“Huh…thank you.”

“It must be hard.” The words come out with amusement but the jab is ignored. John sips, observing Roger over his glass’ rim. “Why are you here Roger?”

“Brian told me.”

“I already guessed that.”

Why is he here? No evident answer crosses his mind. He just felt that he had to come, something in his guts. Like when salmons swim back to the upper reaches of the river where they began their existence only to die there. Nothing logical. Only instinct.

“You cannot die!” Roger shouts, almost a command, and it rings almost comical.

“Why’s that?”

“You are the youngest one. You should be the one burying us all!” His voice is getting angrier with every word, and this is absolutely not what he planned to sound like.

John wants to be mad. He wants to abhor Roger’s presence for just showing up out of nowhere to yell at him -or worse, for coming to give his pity. But, he can’t. Disliking Roger always has been impossible.

He smiles. “Don’t be that pessimistic Rog’. We have a few months ahead before I’m gone. You may traverse the street tomorrow and be run over by a car?”

“Oh shut up Deaky,” he snaps, the affectionate nickname escaping his lips and Roger regrets this weakness right away. He closes his eyes… “It is your fault, you know.”

“The cancer?”

… and opens them again only to roll them in an excellent imitation of an exasperated teenager. “No, John! Not the cancer. The silence. The distance. The time wasted. The rest!”

It isn’t graceful, or polite, or remotely empathetic. The words are brash and a bit shaken, and John almost grimaces when he hears them. Decades ago, this could have been ignored with a ‘We all make mistakes!’ or ‘Shit happens…’ or ‘Fuck you Rog!’, and it would have ended with pints of beer –they threw at each other much worse insults. But after years of silence, and distance, and time wasted, John isn’t so sure anymore how to read Roger’s remarks, and Roger doesn’t know how to talk to John anymore.

Greyish eyes stare back into blue ones, before they fall on the glass he is still holding in his hands.

“Okay,” John says, “I really don’t need that right now, so…I will ask you to leave Roger.”

Without a sound, he passes by the drummer, walks towards the armchair in front  of the coffee table, and sits down there. As his demand remains ignored, he reiterates it, pointing at the front door. “Please?”

Roger is a lot of things, but he has never been a coward –he’s never stepped back from responsibilities or desire or crazy ideas. Sure, fear has been there often, but never sufficient to make him flee, particularly for a friend. His fists clench. A friend.

Time seems to stand still as the two old men stare defiantly at each other, until Roger, notably, is the first to give up and to look at his feet. His breath comes out with a rare measure of apprehension and he decides to move, yet not towards the front door.

A half dozen steps and he is in front of John. He eventually sits down on the coffee table and opens his mouth only to close it, bearing a striking resemblance to a goldfish.

The two men barely spoke or interacted in the last decade, with the exception of small talks about business and money. It seems Roger has no idea how to start what it seems a difficult conversation and John can see his mind working towards some sort of complex solution.

“Roger?”

“Wait! I-” his index raises between them. “I’m thinking.”

“Okay.”

And they go awkwardly quiet again.

Roger leans forward to relieve some of his weight from the table, his fingers drumming nervously against its edge, and big blue eyes glance around as though the words may come from mid-air. By the fifth minute of silence, John comes to the conclusion that the duty to open the discussion falls on his shoulders.

“Look Roger, you owe me nothing,” he starts, calmly. “If you don’t want to be there, then just go. Do not feel obligated to do or to say anything. I don’t need your pity. And to be honest, I would really prefer your hate.” A faint smile lifts the corner of his lips. How typical.

“I could nev-”

Roger stops immediately. Another round of silence stretches into the air and he stiffens.

“Years ago, I… made a promise, Brian too, to someone very dear to me. And very dear to you. He has always known that you were the most fragile one. And even during his last moments he—”

He can’t finish the line, because even after almost 30 years, it is still impossible to wrap his tongue around any sentence involving Freddie and Death at the same time. He sighs through his nose and slams his eyes shut before reopening  them. “I made the promise to look after you. To look after our little brother. And I… it feels like I didn’t keep this promise.”

The concept makes John frown. “Roger, there is nothing you could have done for what is happening to me.”

“I am not talking about that. I am talking about the rest. I…” Roger’s demeanour faintly eases, eyes finally showing something other than the sourness that filled them from the moment he stepped across the threshold. “We lost you.”

He clears his throat, another nervous reflex. “John, look! I know, I know, you needed that. You needed distance and time and to step away. Yes! And we accepted it. But in the end, it… it felt like we lost you. We lost another brother.”

A sincere, even affectionate, look begins to steal over his face. “And, and, and, maybe I am wrong, but I have the feeling you lost a tiny part of yourself as well with this silence. I don’t know. Perhaps it is selfish! Maybe, I’m overthinking, it’s just—”

He pauses to choose his words carefully. “I miss you. Not all the time! Not every day, but… I do. From time to time, I think ‘Oh I wish Deaky was there’.”

There’s a long break during which they just stare at each other. John smiles, close-mouthed but genuine, eyes dangerously glassy: “I miss you too you know? From time to time. Hell –I even miss Brian!” He jokes and swallows hard before breathing again.

There is the ghost of a grin on Roger’s lips. “It’s silly but, even if I know you retired, that you didn’t want to play anymore, that you put Queen and music behind you… I still had, deep down, hidden under tons of concrete made of facts and realism, I still had this insignificant, senseless, ridiculous hope that, maybe one day, you would want to play with us again. And now—” This is risky territory, and he knows it by the tremor in his voice. “—now this tiny hope is gone. For good.”

His eyes burn hot, and a sob tears from his lips but he isn’t crying. He isn’t. It’s like all his tension, all his resentment, all of his love is trying to escape him at once. It’s too much for tears. Roger just wants to bloody scream.

“Fuck, I… I don’t want you to die!”

John snorts at the request. “Me neither.” Without thinking about it, he places a wrinkly hand on his chest, like if trying to catch this failure, trying to control this bomb inside of him. “I am terrified.”

The unforeseen vulnerability of this confession deflates Roger’s composure. And tears finally start to spill out.

Christ, they are both fucking idiots.

“Why did we have to wait for such an event to talk to each other again?”

“I don’t know, really,” John breathes and wipes his nose with the back of his fist. “A few months ago, I wanted to see you, you know? I thought ‘maybe I could write to Brian? Or call Roger? Just like that!’. But yeah, I changed my mind I guess.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know… I thought, with everything happening to both of you now, maybe you didn’t c–” he stops, mid-sentence, like it’s getting too weighty for him to deliver another word.

The drummer remains still, quietly sniffing, until it dawns on him.

“–maybe we didn’t care?”

The only answer from John is a shrug. And Roger’s heart drops.

For a second, he wants to be angry again. How hard is a phone call, or an email, or a card to confirm if they indeed do not care about him? Hell, he was the one who stepped away, the one who said he w— This doesn’t matter. Something restrains those feelings: the idea that John imagined Roger and Brian ceased to care about him is devastating.

His lips part, grasping for words, and as they find they have none, Roger pulls himself to his feet. The move is fast, making John lean backward in the armchair to look up at him.

“Get up Deaky.”

A frown. “Are you going to punch me?”

“For fuck’s sa… I’m gonna hug you! And I can’t do it with you in this armchair without throwing my back out.”

“Look, you really don’t have to. Brian already hugged me twice yesterday.”

“Precisely. Up.”

After a sigh, John obeys.

The pair face each other until Roger moves forward and gathers the other man in a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around him. Chin on his ex-bandmate’s shoulder, John stands stiff. It is easy to let Roger envelop him with his affection and natural cheer, for he always had this mysterious gift to get people comfortable and warm, to drag them in his welcoming aura like a giant sun.

They’re still for a moment until John slowly places his arms around him in return. All the feelings rise again dangerously to the surface and threaten to pour out of him in a tidal wave of emotions.

Imperceptibly, Roger tightens his embrace. “No matter what,” —he hates how his voice sounds watery— “You’re my little brother. The only one I will ever have.”

Shock robs John’s senses for he isn’t sure if he imagined these words or not. He swallows and presses closer, clinging on tight as tears start to run over his cheeks. Maybe with this embrace, he will make clear that his distance was never against him or Brian. That he masks all his fears and hurt with spikes of silence and sarcasm because it’s easier for him to handle.

They remain locked in their embrace a few seconds longer. Looking at it from the exterior the scene may be strange, but these two weepy old men really don’t care.

They eventually pull back, both red-faced, cheeks tearstained.

Roger mumbles: “We’re too old for that.”

“Particularly you.”

“Please.” Despite the gravity of their prior conversation, the drummer can’t help but smile, and the knot in his chest starts to untie itself. He rubs his nose with his palm. “You know what? I could really use a scotch now.”

“Okay.”

Promptly, John walks across the room to reach a small cupboard and takes out a bottle of scotch. “Directly from Scotland,” he explains, the voice is still unsteady, and pours the liquor in Roger’s glass. “My son sent it to us. Be my guest.”

An offer hard to refuse. Roger lifts the glass and sniffs the sweet perfume before taking a sip: “Hmm, you don’t want to join me?”

“No. I quit.”

The drummer’s (still red) eyes widen slightly, for this is the farthest thing he expected. It is not a secret that John went through tumultuous and self-destructive phases, with excessive boozing and partying leaving him feeling depressed or hollow. But people change, for good or bad reasons. And the decision to quit alcohol seems to definitely be part of the good ones.

Even though there is this lethal sword of Damocles hanging over his head, John looks fine. Appeased. With a smile, Roger places a hand on the younger man’s shoulder to squeeze it slightly before pulling away.

His glass now empty, he places it on the coffee table. “So, Brian told me he invited you and Veronica for dinner, next week.”

“Indeed.”

“I was wondering… can I come too?”

“You are asking for my permission?”

“I mean, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Roger admits. “If a dinner for six is too much, I would understand.”

His face is impossibly affectionate –to the point where John frowns, but he doesn’t avert his gaze. He has the impression that if he said ‘no’, Roger wouldn’t argue, would just accept the verdict without raising his white eyebrows or his voice.

“Are you sure you want to come?” John questions with a grin, and the drummer looks over at him with an expression clouded by anxiety. “I mean, who wants to have dinner with a sociopath?”

All the air leaves Roger’s lungs. “What?! No no no John, I’ve never…Well, I did but –Look! This wasn’t my intention. I-I was just–” he stammers, and the more he does, the more John’s smile grows, until a laugh bubbles out of his throat.

“It’s okay Rog’,” he says to save his friend from his ramblings. “I mean; I call you ‘that blonde blind bitch’ daily.”

“Oh shut up Deaky.” Again.

And with that, all the pressure in the room fades away.

“Of course you can come,” John speaks, “I think I can survive a diner of six, but… please Rog, could you both not talk about music the whole time?”

“Fine! I will let Brian make the conversation,” he retorts and crosses his arms over his chest in a scornful way that doesn’t augur any good outcome. “Prepare yourself for hours of ecological issues and useless details about wild animals.”

A laugh, this time shared by both men, and a weight lifts from their shoulders the exact second they reach this familiar territory of jokes and comfortable bantering. It is like coming back to a favourite place you were gone from for so long, but never truly forgetting which parquet-floor boards creaked.

“Alright, since we’re having this heart to heart conversation, I need to ask you the real question.”

The frisky tone makes John curious.

“Did you see the movie?”

He nods. “I did.”

“And? What did you think?”

Greyish eyes narrow a fraction, and Roger fights back a smile. Simply because that irritated look John is currently giving him is so John.

“Well,” John pauses, “The music was good.”

A short but genuine laugh escapes Roger. “Yes, yeah… the music was okay I guess.”

“Barely decent, actually.”

They keep talking like this for about an hour, exchanging anecdotes or little jokes. So many things happened during the last decades that functioning in a normal friendship is a back and forth struggle between small talks and unintended reminders of the past.

But they both believe that they are at the middle ground, and Roger is silently hoping that during the coming weeks, John will permit him to gain back a place in his life. But he has his doubts.

Only when John’s phone buzzes, that he checks the time. “Ronnie,” he says, looking at the message with a soft expression. “She’s asking me what I would like for dinner.”

John seems to think over his options as he quizzically stares up at Roger. Then, a frown, but a slightly annoyed one. “Huh… would you like to stay?”

It’s an innocuous sort of question but asked only out of politeness. And Roger knows it. No matter what, John is well aware of the social conventions when you have a guest -thanks to the 50’s strict upbringing- so he asks, because he had to, not because he wants to.

Roger shakes his head and grins.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I have a life you know?” The jest is light but true. Two of his children and Sarina are waiting for him at home, and he knows that he will need their love after the draining afternoon he went through. “And, we have a dinner planned soon, right?”

“Right.”

Both men stood in the vestibule; the drummer pulls on his coat carefully, then ties a scarf around his neck, and John remains silent, those inscrutable grey eyes observing his ex-bandmate.

“See you next week Rog’.”

With his hand on the door handle, Roger’s face turns with a smile. “Next week Deaky.”

-

~ f i n ~

PLEASE DON’T JUMP DOWN MY THROAT FOR THIS FIC!! this is a work of fiction and tbh, my main focus is on the reconcialiation and the dynamic betwen the three old men. if i offended any one, i am sorry!! in the end, i hope you enjoyed the reading anyway… feel free to tell me what you think of it  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#brian may #roger taylor #john deacon #maylor #dealor #breaky #YES I USE THE SHIPS TAGS BECAUSE YOU CAN USE THEM FOR FRIENDSHIP RIGHT??? #this fic was sooo hard to write tho #it took me more or less three monthes lmaooo #queen fanfic #queen fanfiction #queen #fanfic #You Should Have Been There #tears tears tears tears

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Sooooo happy the ask is back & thankyou for all you have done, I was wondering if you have any sterek fics where jackson/allison/lydia/Isaac is stiles best friend instead of scott please, thankyou so much in advance!!

I don’t know about instead of Scott but here’s some where he’s got good friendships with other members of the pack. - Anastasia

Sweet Buns by skoosiepants

(1/1 I 17,396 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.

Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.

One More Again by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

(16/16 I 22,238 I Not Rated I Sterek)

When a strange man appears in the Hale Pack territory with an unusual proposition for Stiles and Lydia, Stiles is unable to resist going back in time to stop the Hale House fire.

Even after a few bumps in the road, Stiles finds himself in the past with one nearly-insurmountable goal - getting Talia Hale and the rest of her family to trust him with their lives.

Why do you care? by jamesm97

(34/34 I 31,609 I Mature I Sterek)

The Alpha pack go after the weak link to the pack Stiles, Stiles means the world to everyone in the pack especially Derek his boyfriend. After they cause the destruction they leave.

When Stiles is hurt and dumped on the door step of Deaton's surgery beaten and bitten by the Alphas.

Stiles becomes a powerful Alpha after being trained in the ways of wolf and hunter he is put in charge of his own pack, Can he Cora and the Argent's, Kill the Alpha pack and save LAURA AND TALIA!!!.

They aren't dead just captured.

will to follow through by owlpostagain

(2/2 I 42,411 I Teen I Sterek)

“It depends entirely on how you look at it, I guess,” Stiles shrugs. “On the one hand, instant healing and the apparently inherited ability to pull off leather at all times. On the other, serious attitude problems and a suspicious disappearance of eyebrows.”

“Even Derek’s?” Danny snorts, “that’s a lot of eyebrow to lose.”

“I know,” Stiles agrees. “You should see, it’s so weird. Every time I want to ask him where they go, except he’d totally eat my face off.”

“There are worse ways to die.”

Odnowione życie by RealityXIllusion

(23/35 I 44,854 I Not Rated I No Pairing I MCD)

Stiles isn't sure what the hell happened. One minute he was sleeping and the next he was standing outside Scott's house the night his friend was bitten by Peter Hale.

The Unkindness of Valravn by TaliskerMortem

(19/31 I 49,660 I Not Rated I Sterek)

They are rare, almost unheard of. Only Lydia seems to recognise the word. Valravn. The Raven People. They descend on Beacon Hills in their hour of need. Obliterating the enemy. At their head? A man dress in black. A man covered in tattoos. A man they all knew.

OR: The one in which Stiles hasn't been back to Beacon Hills in seven years, during which he visited Europe, was attacked by a raven and turned into a shifter, has lots of tattoos and is now the Alpha of his little ragtag group of Valravne.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

(12/12 I 54,283 I Mature I Steter)

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

The New Normal by midnightcas

(27/27 I 63,392 I Teen I Sterek)

After Stiles gets hurt...again, Derek puts him on the metaphorical supernatural bench. Meanwhile, Stiles tries to have a normal life and make normal friends. But when a new pack comes to town and the Hales start getting threats, things start to get a little....not normal.

Unlikely Guardian by Trenchcoat Hunter (Reedt)

(25/25 I 67,903 I Teen I Sterek)

“Shut it you two! It’s the first hint we’ve had in five years! McCall, call Lydia and Allison. Tell them to get their notes from high school and kits here while the trail is still warm. I’m calling Danny to see if he can do any tech sweeps of the area to see if he can find anything.” Derek’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Lydia and Allison rarely get called in with their kits and considering that neither Isaac nor Scott even blinked at the orders showed just how serious they all were, especially Jackson it seemed. “Isaac, can you follow his scent?”

“I’ve been trying but it’s so faint and the wolves are overpowering. I’ve got to be careful or I’m going to miss it.”

“Don’t lose it!”

Derek had enough of being out of the loop. “Will one of you idiots tell me what’s going on!”

Jackson turned to Derek with a look of sad wonder in his eyes. He reverently whispered, “It’s Stiles. We may have finally found Stiles!”

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(7/7 I 196,127 I Explicit I Sterek)

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #stiles and jackson #jackson whittemore #stiles and allison friendship #allison argent #stiles and lydia #lydia martin #Anon

[asthecrushgoes]

Dancing with a Stranger - part one

GIF

Who: Luke

Inspiration: the 5SOS cover of Dancing with a Stranger (Sam Smith and Normani) mashup with Latch (Disclosure ft. Sam Smith)

Warnings (part 1): Swearing, drinking, implications of casual sex

Word Count (this part): 2,209

A/N: Sooooo….. the cover of ‘Dancing with a Stranger’ fuckedddd me up and I still think about it, so I decided to write a short fic. This was supposed to be two parts, but I wrote a lot and it ended up being three. If you don’t like smut, this first part can act as a stand-alone one shot or with part two if you want little hints of it! Part 3 is alllll the smut though, so get ready for that. Also, because they put ‘Latch’ at the end, I thought it really changed the whole meaning of the song and wanted to incorporate that into the story. Let me know what you think! 🍻

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

It was that time of night again. Luke was sprawled on his couch, wearing an old, torn sweatshirt, stuffing his face with takeout (tonight’s choice was Thai) and watching a movie. Alone. Always alone. 

In actuality, he wasn’t really watching whatever film he had thrown on the TV. He never did. Instead, his eyes were fixed on his phone, thumb swiping through old pictures. 

Pictures of her. 

Luke and Elyssa had been together for three years and Luke had thousands of photos still stored on his phone. He flicked through their cheesy, touristy photos in front of the Eiffel Tower, action shots of them surfing when he took her to Australia for the first time, candids of Elyssa across the table wearing the most gorgeous light pink dress on their first anniversary, screenshots of cute texts and weird Snapchats…

Basically their whole relationship was available to him at all hours of the day and he never seemed to be able to stop himself. He couldn’t bring himself to delete the pictures, but his heart broke again and again every time he pulled them up, which he hated to admit was often.

Luke took a large gulp of the whiskey he had sitting on the coffee table and closed his eyes. As always, he had to force himself not to dial Elyssa’s number. He clearly wasn’t over her, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea to start something that would only lead to more drama and heartbreak. 

It seemed like every time Luke got into these moods, his brain left out all the bad parts. And why wouldn’t it? The relationship portrayed on his phone looked perfect--full of smiles, laughter, kisses, romance, love. It didn’t show all the nights Elyssa would start a fight for no reason or would flirt with guys at the bar just to make Luke jealous and angry. It didn’t show all the times Luke would forget to text her when he was out with the band or when he would lie about where he had been or who he was talking to just to avoid a huge blow up.

But none of that ever seemed to stop Luke from missing all the cute things she did. Like the way she used to run her fingers through his hair when they were falling asleep and hum lightly whatever song was stuck in her head from the day. Or how she would always mix half regular and half decaf coffees and Luke could never remember which jar had which type of grounds in it, so she bought a label maker and they spent an entire night, staying up until 2:00 am, printing labels for her entire kitchen. 

Or when Luke would show her the band’s new music and she would sit and listen with her eyes closed, taking in every note and lyric fully before making any comments. Her face was always so composed, it was nearly impossible to tell what she was thinking. Luke would wait on the edge of his seat until Elyssa would crack a smile and he would instantly wrap his arms around her, lifting her into the air. 

“So you like it?” he would grin and her soft giggle would be all the affirmation he needed.

But now, Luke was surrounded with only the sounds of the television and Petunia’s snoring. Finishing the remainder of his drink and taking a deep breath, Luke dialed his phone.

“Luke?” the voice on the other line said after a few rings. 

“Um, hey,” Luke began, clearing his throat, “Did you guys end up going out?”

“Yes!” Calum yelled excitedly into the phone, “Are you gonna finally come this time?”

“I’m thinking about it…” Luke replied slowly. 

“Dude, we’ve been trying to get you out of your damn apartment for a month! Please come out. You need to do something to forget about--”

“Fine,” Luke cut his friend off, “I’ll come. I don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

“Perfect! Your first drink is on me,” Calum promised. “See you soon.”

Luke peeled himself off the couch, finally managing to shower and look somewhat presentable. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t in sweats and his black skinny jeans felt tight and uncomfortable. 

“Bye, P,” he cooed, leaning down to give the portly bulldog a treat, before making his way out the door and into the Uber waiting at the end of the driveway.

The ride to the bar was silent, aside from the low hum of talk radio playing. Luke almost told the guy to turn around and bring him home a dozen times, but he figured he needed a night out. Needed a distraction. 

Once arriving at the bar, Luke easily spotted Ashton’s red hair and began making his way over to his friends, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket. As he approached Ashton, he quickly regretted not bailing on the night when he was still in the Uber. 

Michael, Crystal, Ashton and KayKay were dancing, mingling and getting way more touchy than Luke wanted to witness. Michael and Crystal were still on a high from their recent engagement, and Ashton and KayKay only started dating a few months ago, so they were stuck in the early ‘you’re the only person in the room’ phase. Calum was nowhere to be found. 

“Luke!” Michael called out upon spotting his friend. He pulled Luke into a quick hug, patting his shoulder without letting go of Crystal’s hand. “Hey, man. Glad you came.”

The others in the group echoed with similar greetings as Luke scanned the nearby faces.

“Where’s Calum?” he asked, desperately wanting to find the only other single member of the band. 

“He’s around,” Ashton grinned, “He disappeared to buy some girl a drink, of course.”

Luke groaned to himself, although he shouldn’t be surprised. Calum always got a lot of attention from women when they went out. His muscular arms littered with tattoos, dark curls, soft eyes, and cheeks that always maintained a perfect rosy hue when he drank, easily impressed strangers at the bar, never mind once his laid-back, goofy personality took over.

“I need a drink,” Luke mumbled, then turned towards the bar. He spotted Calum in a crowd on the dance floor, his hands sitting low on a woman’s hips as they moved together to the beat. 

Squeezing his way to the counter, Luke ordered a whiskey on the rocks, sighing as the liquor finally hit his tongue. He did not want to return to being the fifth wheel. Or seventh, Luke thought as he glanced over at Calum, who was still pressed up against the same woman. So, he absentmindedly pulled out his phone, fingers automatically opening photos. 

He looked down at the most recent one: Elyssa was looking over her shoulder, laughing at Luke as she stood in line at the grocery store, her arms full of as much junk food as she could carry. Luke took it the day before they were supposed to leave for a road trip to Vegas. It was the last photo Luke had. Later that night, Elyssa accidentally left her phone open on the counter and Luke saw texts from the friend she insisted Luke didn’t have to worry about. Apparently not. 

Wincing at the painful memory, Luke shoved his phone back in his pocket. As he looked up again, his eyes met these narrowed ones across the room. As he registered the rest of the woman attached to them, Luke noticed she was smirking at him as she sipped her drink. She had long, perfectly-styled loose curls that fell over her bare shoulders. Her black, strapless shirt came just above the waistline of her jeans, jutting out in small frills and giving Luke a small glimpse of the strip of skin on her stomach. Luke immediately felt a fire grow inside him. He was completely and immediately captivated by this woman.

When she noticed Luke finally looking back at her, her eyes unabashedly trailed over his body before snapping back to his face. Her smile widened and Luke took a deep breath.   

“Luke! You made it!” Calum called, slapping his friend on the shoulder and drawing Luke’s attention away from the other side of the room. Luke reluctantly turned towards his friend, giving a weak smile.

“So,” Calum continued, “What’re you drinking?” he asked, leaning against the bar to order another round of drinks. Luke could tell he was drunk and didn’t want to ask how many Calum had already had tonight.

“Whiskey,” Luke mumbled, his attention drifting from Calum back towards where the girl had been standing. But, she had disappeared. Great, Luke thought and downed the remainder of his current drink.

“Cheers, mate!” Calum said, handing Luke a refill. 

“What happened to your dance partner?” Luke asked.

“Ahh,” Calum sighed, “Georgia left with her friends.”

Luke stirred the ice in his drink. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t even want to go out tonight, but for some reason he thought this would help him get over Elyssa. The numbness from the alcohol was starting to take over and he just nodded along to whatever story Calum was telling. 

“Excuse me,” said a voice coming up in front of Calum and flashing him a small smile. 

Luke’s eyes shifted to the source and fell upon the girl from earlier. Of course she was going for Calum. Luke opened his mouth to make an excuse to leave, but the girl spoke again. 

“Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but your friend’s going to dance with me now,” she said to Calum, then turned to Luke, holding out a hand for him to take.

Luke obliged and was led by this stranger through the crowd to the center of the dance floor. The way she took control made Luke feel like he didn’t have a choice in the matter, and honestly, he preferred it this way. Elyssa had screwed him up so much, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to approach someone at the bar, let alone attempt to pick them up, so he was willing to follow this new girl wherever she wanted to go.

His body moved automatically, arms instantly attaching to her waist and pulling her close. She responded by running her hands along Luke’s body--dragging her fingers over his chest, playing with the soft curls at the back of his neck, and pulling lightly on the fabric of his t-shirt. She bit her lip as she moved, her hips dipping low to the beat blasting through the bar. 

Luke felt his breath getting heavier and his heart beating faster. This girl was beautiful. And she had picked Luke out of the crowd. Her smirk hadn’t disappeared since she grabbed Luke’s hand and he felt himself unconsciously returning the smile. 

As they danced, Luke’s mind flashed to Elyssa. He wondered what she was doing tonight. What she would think if she saw Luke in the middle of a club, pressed against a new girl. But, in that moment, Luke decided he didn’t care. He was dancing with a stranger and he liked it.

He loved the feeling of her body in his hands. He loved how she moved against him. He loved the way she tugged on his hair, pulling a little harder than Luke was used to and eliciting a low growl from his throat. 

Luke didn’t want this moment to stop. He spun her around, pulling her back flush against him. His arms stayed on her hips and his head dipped low against her neck. She tilted to the side, allowing Luke to start running his lips against her exposed skin.

They continued moving together, completely forgetting about the rest of the room. Suddenly, she spun around and grabbed at the back of Luke’s neck. She pulled his lips to her own and immediately took control of the kiss. She had to stand tiptoe to fully reach him and she swayed slightly in his grasp.

Luke’s arms tightened around her, his hands wandering to the bare skin on her back. He let out a soft groan as she pulled at his bottom lip with her teeth. He could feel his arousal growing and he knew she could too. She rotated her hips against him and broke from the kiss, just slightly. Her fingers played with the chain around Luke’s neck and she looked up at him with the most seductive, mischievous eyes.

“We can continue this night elsewhere...” she said. She phrased it more of a suggestion than a question, already starting to back up towards the entrance, never breaking eye contact with Luke.

She was giving Luke a choice. He could turn around on the spot and retreat back to his friends, this girl turning into just a random make-out at a bar. Or, he could follow her out that door and let her lead him on into the night. 

Luke chose the latter. He caught up to her in two quick strides and grabbed her hand in his. She smirked at him, pausing for a moment to capture Luke’s lips with hers, then spun on a heel, pulling Luke through the crowd, out the door, and down the street.

—

Next part preview: “He could feel her hot breath against the sensitive skin of his lips and he shivered slightly at their proximity.”

—

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke 5sos #5sos fic #5sos imagine #luke hemmings #luke imagine #luke hemmings imagine #5sos fanfic #luke fic #luke hemmings fic #luke fanfic #luke hemmings fanfic

[daebakinc]

BTS Speak Yourself MetLife Day 2 Fan Account

They were really feeling themselves today, maybe because it was the last day of their US tour. Like they were all bouncy and smiling and confident through out (until the end, but I’ll get to that).

The crowd was really on too; they did so many more chants and sang a lot louder to all the songs too.

A lot of the intros was the same, but Taehyung added “Army, look at us! You make this, Army! We purple you!”, Jungkook did a cute twirl during his and Hoseok said “Let’s spread our wings!” as the segue into Outro: Wings.

During Outro: Wings, they all held out their mics for us to sing the word “fly” every time it came up. 

Hoseok got the biggest smirk when we chanted his name during his solo. He yelled “Love you, Metlife!” and adlibbed during one of the parts where he sings. LET HIM SING MORE!!!!!!!!!!

Jungkook’s smile at the fanchants during his solo was so big he almost couldn’t sing. He ended with a finger heart and a “I love you, guys!”

Yoongi didn’t bother getting the streamers off himself and played with them for most of Best of Me.

Jimin flashed his stomach so much more today during Serendipity. That means even more flashes of his tattoo (IT BETTER BE REAL!). His dancing is so fluid, like his ballet training clearly still heavily influences his dancing and I love it. He also ended his song with finger hearts.

Joon was super cute for his solo and very obviously got hyped off our singing the “saram, saram, saram” line of the chorus. 

Taehyung kept making dumb faces right before and during the beginning of Boy with Luv, with Hoseok ended up imitating him too lol. They were so smiley the whole time too.

OMFG THE STUPIDITY DURING THEIR TALKING BREAK!!!!!!!!!!! Jungkook was showing off his English and said “You know that this stadium is also famous for NFL.” to which Taehyung responded by asking about who was a famous running back, and to which in turn Jin started claiming it was him. Jimin and Namjoon both started teasing Jin for having dangerous shoulders. Jin wadded up a towel or t-shirt(not sure which) like a football and tried to run his way through the line of boys. He got past Hoseok but epicly failed get past Jungkook, eventually being swarmed by all of them. Namjoon was like “YOU FAILED!!!” while laughing with Jimin. Jin said “It’s okay because I’m a bad boy. YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU BAD BOYS!” And then of FUCKING COURSE, Namjoon responds “I like being bad.” BOY YOU BETTER NOT! He then continued “Well, Jin failed but we’ll show you what a touchdown is with our next killer song.”

JIMIN DID MY FAVORITE ADLIB HE DOES FOR DOPE!

Taehyung was playing behind Hoseok during part of Bapsae and Hoseok DID A FRIGGIN JUMP SPLIT!

Namjoon said Idol was a song that said a lot about them. I could swear they turned down the background vocals for the chorus so we could sing them back to BTS. Hoseok was hyping up Yoongi’s parts and Jungkook was so damn sweaty.

Green is so Taehyung’s color, just saying. There were sooooo many fanboy screams for him.

Jungkook did the jacket slipping from his shoulder thing during Fake Love (not sure if it was intentional or not), and that was honestly sexier than his ab flashes. 

Yoongi was on a moving walkway thing during the beginning of Seesaw, so him lol, and then his dancers were on it later, which was a really cool effect.

I didn’t mention this from last night, but god Jin’s vocals. I cannot say how proud and in awe of him I am. His voice and singing ability have grown so much in a year, let alone since their very beginnings. Like…. his hard work cannot be appreciated enough. He started getting teary eyed, sweet boy.

The vocal line were all mouthing each other’s lines during The Truth Untold. That is when Jin did actually cry OTL. Jungkook did some harmonizing with Jin and Jimin and it was fucking amazing. The talent.

Holy Namjoon in a headband! I forgot about this too, but during Outro: Tear, there were light effects to make the rap line look like they were on fire and they really were.

Anpanman was such a mess of a playground lol. Taehyung was playing with everyone. Namjoon was bouncing as he was sitting on one part of the blow-up things, Yoongi was doing the superhero pose, etc. Taehyung got stuck between the blowup seats and had to get pulled out by Jin. Yoongi tried jumping onto a blowup seat and failed lol. Jimin and Yoongi slid down the slide together. Yoongi also did a cute little grandpa two step dance and the idiot was twerking his way back up the catwalk. And of course, maknae see, maknae do, so Jungkook also had to shake his butt at the camera. Taehyung joined in too, and was also playing with his bucket hat.

So What was also a mess of happy boys. Yoongi ran back to the extended stage doing his little old man running while stupidly grinning. OTL Taehyung piggybacked Jin but was bouncing so Jin ended up head banging and Jin returned the favor towards the end lol. I guess Hoseok was worried about Taehyung falling because he had a hand on Taehyung’s back during this. Jin collapsed at the end so Jungkook had to mess with him by lifting his leg and trying to push it to his chest. Jimin yelled “I love you” as the lights faded.

Hoseok was heavilyyyyyy flirting with the camera during Make It Right and his singing!!!!!!!!!! Jungkook and Jimin were hyping up Yoongi’s rap again, they all love him so much.

At picture time, Hosoek was whining about it being the last night.

For the wave, Jungkook demonstrated how to do the wave, and when we copied him, the little shit said “Look at my power.” Brat I love you. Bless Jimin, he called us “geniuses” for being able to follow simple instructions lol. However, we were too fast for them when they got us to do the wave from front to back, prompting Namjoon to say “That was fast, but not enough. Sorry, we’re human but y’all were really fast.” When we actually did the wave properly, with Jimin running around the stage to follow it, Jin kept saying it was perfect and Namjoon said “This is the last day, I just want to end it from this.”

Goodbyes (everyone but Yoongi spoke entirely in English!):

Hoseok:  Tonight is our last night for our US tour. *made a pouty face* I was so nervous because it was our first stadium tour, but I’m not nervous anymore because Army had so much fun. You guys make me feel very appreciated(I think?). We will be back. We’ll love you forever. Until next time, please be happy. *blew a kiss*

Taehyung: I have something serious to say. When we comeback next year, will you come back? I want this feeling next year? Next year when we come back, Army needs to yell BTS please. We purple you. I’m done. *dropped his hat*

Yoongi: *made silly faces when we started screaming* This is our last stop in the US. I remember the first time I got into New York, we went to eat one time and I noticed this one theater, and it was the theater from our first US tour. In a small theater to MetLife. Everything is possible because of what you guys have done. *took out his earpiece to hear us scream again*

Jin: *blew a kiss* It’s the last time in US. Tonight was our last show with you. We are totally blessed and happy to share this moment with you. Army, we are family. You’re my family, we’ll see you later. I love you 3000.

Jimin: *he looked at the crowd a really long time* Hi, guys. Once again, I learned something from you tonight. This concert can only be done because of you. We share this scenery, we listen to each other cry and love. This journey was amazing. We can’t thank you enough. We promise we’ll come back here. Always stay amazing. I love you all.

Jungkook: *this kid pulled Jin’s rose from his hood and was so proud of himself! He shook Jin’s hand and then threw the rose down lol).  I was in the car with the manager and I looked up at the sky. It was so clear and it got me excited, but I experienced last night, I was also super excited for tonight’s show. We love you guys. You are part of the act(?). Because Army, when you smile, I smile. Because every night with Army, you make my day. I will always remember this moment with you. Thank you. I love you.

Namjoon: *we chanted his name and made him smile* I’ll remember this forever. I’m gonna start. You know what they say about the American journey: it’s a dream that some say we’ve reached it, some say we haven’t. We didn’t dream it because we thought it was something we couldn’t, that we couldn’t reach that. Army, look at this. America, thank you for embracing us, accepting us, 7 boys from Korea who sing in Korean and have different looks, sing in a different tongue. You all prove music transcends everything(?). Pause this moment. I didn’t notice, but I realized you guys did become our real dream. That is important. The most important thing is playing with you guys, listening to the same thing. This moment will forever be my dream. You all have your own life stories and we see your stories. You all are the stars and the lighthouse that guide our night.

He got us to put our cellphone lights on again, saying “Technology time.”

Jungkook absolutely lost it during the final song when they were just walking around waving, like red nose and all, poor thing. Luckily the boys gave him a group hug and made him smile.

#bts #bts speak yourself #bts speak yourself world tour #fan account #bts fan account

[mini-min-yoongi]

November AO3 Yoonmin readings:

Hey guys! Here I bring you this past month’s readings. Even though they are mainly yoonmin, this month there are a couple of OT7 fics of which I hadn’t read much until now. There is also some namjin, vhope and taekook as side pairings in some of them. I hope everyone can find something that peaks their interest so… enjoy! :)

1) Boyfriend Tag

“Normally I post dance routines and the occasional tag or challenge video and I know I haven’t posted in a while so I am here to make it up to you all. Yoongi lost a bet sooooo we are here with the highly requested, boyfriend tag!!” Jimin yelled making Yoongi wince and lean away from him. “Are you ready?” Jimin asked bringing his attention to Yoongi. “You better not get a thing wrong,” He warned pointing a finger at Yoongi.

Jimin is a youtuber and he gets his boyfriend Yoongi to film a video for his channel.

2) I’m your guilty pleasure (You can’t get out. Never) (contains smut)

Yoongi has just discovered his neighbor that he thinks is too damn loud is actually an internet camboy.

Chaos ensues when they start seeing each other. Things get hard–literally.

3) Crazy is most definitely genetic (work in progress; Pairings: Namjoon/Seokjin, Yoongi/Jimin, Hoseok/Taehyung, + Baby Kookie)

Family!au where Jimin’s just trying to survive high school, Taehyung keeps weirding everyone out, Namjoon is an embarrassing dad, Jin is supermom, and Jungkookie’s just along for the ride.

Very cute and funny!

4) Trolling ARMY (OT7, brotp, no pairings, BTS universe)

“The boys play a game where they compete to see who can get the most "shippy” comments of the week.“ Yoongi watched from an armchair on the other side of the room, trying not to chuckle. Ever since he’d learned the term shipping, he’d watched his brothers with a different eye. None of them were gay–though Namjoon had once drunkenly pontificated at length about his distaste for labels–or interested in one another. But they were all a little…handsy.

5) TRB in NYC (OT7, brotp, no pairings, BTS universe)

"What happened?” Namjoon asked, his voice tight. They had been skirting around him all day. As if he didn’t know. He found it darkly funny. His English was better than all of them combined, even their manager. He’d read the tweets, the posts, the threats. He’d tried to keep the other members from it as much as he could, but everyone had an inkling things had escalated past normal fan stuff.

“We’ve had a credible threat.”

Based on the threats that they received when they performed at New York. BTS hurting and comforting each other.

6) 7 minutes in heaven (*)

“It’s a fusion game. The person who spins the bottle gets to ask the person it landed on truth or dare, and if that person doesn’t want to answer or do the dare then they either take a shot or take off an article of clothing,” Jin says like he’s proud of improvising such a fantastic game.

“I’m not playing that,” Yoongi says. “Hyung, don’t be a party pooper, are you scared we’ll learn your secrets?” Hoseok asks and Namjoon ah’s dramatically. Yoongi shakes his head and puts his tongue in his cheek before he smiles at their antics, pushing Namjoon over closer to Jin so that he can sit down. “Please, hyung, it sounds like fun!” Jungkook says. “It’s my birthday.” 

I’m a simple girl. I love seeing a devoted and whipped Yoongi for Jimin even before they start dating. I love an innocent and kind Jimin crushing on his firend’s older brother who is kinda a bad boy and very cool. And I love BTS getting together, spitting embarrassing secrets and playing spin the bottle. This fic has all these elements and that’s why it’s one of my favorite readings of the month.

7) #mindreading Series

It’s my first time reading a fic in which someone has a gift because I’m more into stories that aren’t too fictional, but apart from Yoongi being able to read people’s minds, it doesn’t have any other “supernatural” elements so I decided to give it a try and I really enjoyed it. It was super cute reading about Jimin’s thoughts about Yoongi and I liked how the author developed their relationship and Jimin’s reaction towards Yoongi’s gift.

7.1) #mindreading #ad

Yoongi can read minds and Jimin is instagram famous.

7.2) Steady Hum (contains smut)

The one where Yoongi can read minds and Jimin is instagram famous PART 2.

8) Error: Words Not Found (*)

Soulmate AU where your soulmate’s first words to you will appear as a tattoo on your wrist at birth.

•×××××××××ו

In a world where most people’s lives revolved around finding their soulmates, Yoongi was different, not because he didn’t care-he cared a lot, he wanted someone to be The One for him too-but because he was convinced he didn’t have one.

It had been twenty-two years and still his wrist remained blank and unblemished.

As you may know by now I’M A SUCKER FOR SOULMATE AUS. So... yeah. I read another one and LOVED IT. I live for this kind of angst and I’d love to give a more thorough review but I don’t want to spoil it so go read it because it’s sadly just two chapters but full of good shit.

9)  You don’t have to say I love you (to say I love you)

yoongi’s so painfully and obviously in love with jimin, it sort of hurts the other members sometimes.

BTS universe.

10) Gotta Be Fate (If We’re Under the Covers) (contains smut) (*)

Jimin is excited to just sleep for a day and maybe catch up on some tv shows at the hotel.

That is, until they get to the new hotel they’re staying at, and he gets handed a room key that’s the same as Yoongi’s. Meaning, he and Yoongi will share a room and worse, he and Yoongi will have to share a bed.

“Why do I have to share with Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin complains. He’s managed to avoid it this whole trip which is really in his best interest if he wants to keep his raging heart boner for him hidden.

AKA my response to Yoonmin sharing a bed, 8 years too late.

BTS universe. I liked this whole idea. Just... just go read it *blushes and hides*

11) The Songbird and the Sea (*)

(pirate au, contains smut, Yoongi/Jimin + Jungkook/Taehyung, Namjoon/Seokjin)

In a world where dominance of the sea is an endless battle between pirates and mariners, Park Jimin is content living in his little village on a small, uninteresting island by the eastern mainland. He wants nothing to do with the bloodshed of good and evil, the heartless killing of both innocents and condemned, the constant establishment and disruption of order. What he wants is peace, to live his life in the same town he was born in, to spend his days in the beautiful forest, and to use the powers of his Blessed Rune to nurture the home he loves so dearly.

But when his island is attacked by pirates, Jimin will have no other choice than to do as they command and leave all thoughts of peace behind in favor of boarding the Agust, a pirate ship captained by the infamous Min Yoongi, Black Fox of the East.

GO READ THIS MASTERPIECE OH MY GOD. I’ve never been interested in fiction heavy aus like pirates, superheroes, etc. but I’d heard such great things about this story, the author is lovely and this is the Yoonmin fic with the most kudos on AO3, so I decided to give it a try and BEST DECISION I’VE MADE THIS MONTH. It’s made me feel so many emotions. I’ve cried, laughed, screamed, blushed and became a mess. The author also gives music recommendations to listen to while reading the chapters and it gives the story that extra something (I actually created playlists for each chapter and I like them so much that I listen to them even when I’m going somewhere lol). Seriously, I’m obsessed with this story, the characters are freaking fantastic, the development is everything and what’s best is that this story is far from over. She’s planning on turning it into a series and I cannot wait to see how the story develops. Also, the author has a schedule so there’s a new chapter every week which is something that I appreciate a lot, especially when starting to read a work in progress (it’s almost finished, next week she’ll upload the epilogue and it’ll be complete). GO READ IT AND COME SCREAM AND CRY ABOUT IT WITH ME.

12) 흰 여름 (’White Summer’) (*)

“Diversity,” Namjoon had said when he had explained the concept to them, “Learning to love yourself, no matter what.” “We already did that,” Yoongi had pointed out, “Literally the same title.” But Namjoon, when he looked at him, had seemed strangely bright and somber at the same time. “Not like this,” he had said.

Or, Jimin and Yoongi have to kiss for an MV. And deal with the fallout.

BTS universe. F**k, this is good! I don’t know what to say but that as you may know I really like fics that are kinda canon compliant and this one is SO GOOD. The group is working on a new album and it’s kinda like love myself but riskier in the sense that it is a controversial topic in south korea. I just love it when people also write about the korean music industry (even if it may not be 100% accurate, but let’s be honest, only the people working in it knows what’s up really) because I find it so interesting and not many people talk about it in depth. Of course, I can’t finish without saying that I really enjoyed the development of Jimin and Yoongi’s relationship, how Yoongi wasn’t aware of Jimin’s sexual orientation. A good fic right here!

Special mention:

~Too Much to Admit (Taehyung centric, OT7 Relationship)

The first time it happens, Taehyung doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t know how.

To start, I would like to say that this fic deals with a very serious and triggering topic for some so if you are not in a good mental place or you could be triggered by it please do not read it. This fic doesn’t have any pairings and it’s a BTS universe fic. It’s complete and I really enjoyed the different ways in which each member deals with what’s happening. In my opinion, the author did an excellent job at portraying each character and the way in which they would behave in such a difficult situation. I’m especially really liking her take on Jungkook because you can clearly see that he’s the youngest one, his confusion and anger clearly shows how much he cares about the well-being of all his hyungs. I don’t know, it’s such a heavy fic, but I really liked it.

(*) My favourite ones.

#mr #yoonmin #yoonmin fic rec #ao3 #bts ot7 #vhope #taekook #namjin

[bandficsunlimited]

Floral & Fading (Pierce The Veil Fanfiction)

(This was the first band slash PTV fanfic that I’ve ever made, so please forgive me if it’s terrible and nonsensical and not what you really expected.)

"D-d-d-darker now, kicked out and sleeping in your car, you rolled the window down, enough to dream and make-believe..."

"That's it, stop it! Pierce...whatever, you're outta here! Go on, we're closed! Everybody out! You're wrecking the place!"

The harsh reprimand of the bowling alley owner rang out, exasperated and palpably angry, and Jaime could perfectly and very much tell why.

Standing in the carnage of musical instruments and debris of bowling equipment alike, their band sign hanging off on one corner with half already in shards on the floor, holding splintered parts of what used to be a bass guitar, and staring at a rowdy crowd that had been shoving and pushing at each other the entire time, the owner's rage towards the sheepish band was easily understandable.

Jaime wasn't sure how Pierce the Veil was allotted to perform here in the first place, considering that their post-hardcore music wasn't really the appropriate ambiance to a bowling alley, and they were forced to wear such weird clothes (Mike laughed at his older brother's atrocious green floral shirt that he fished out of his dad's closet for ten minutes straight), and the owner didn't even know what the hell their band name was ("He announced it with the enthusiasm of a vendor selling tacos in a deserted place under the torpor heat of the summer Mexico sun", Jaime observed. "Oh great, now I want tacos", another voice inside his head complained), but all he knew for certain was that this was quite unexpected.

"For a bunch of people living in '69, these guys sure do party hard." Jaime thought, uttering a low whistle as he surveyed the wreckage of the chaotic room.

Not only had he and his bandmates completely trashed the place, they also managed to influence the people to join in with it as well, and what once was a group of peaceful weekend bowling players had turned into youth-crazy moshers that threw articles of intimate clothing, allowed crowdsurfing and mosh pits, nearly ripped the band members apart (two of them tore out their drummer's sleeves, "but," Jaime internally snickered, "with Mike's big guns, who freakin' wouldn't?"), poured juice punch on each other (Jaime could see a girl smiling at them wryly without a care of the sticky beverage that dripped and coloured her hair a vivid blue), pulled the fire alarms and lit up their lighters inside the place, and ultimately ("and most importantly", Jaime noted), they enjoyed and allowed themselves to lose control to their music.

"So all in all, not a bad gig." Jaime concluded with a satisfied grin. He looked over to Vic, Mike, and Tony, all exhausted, sweaty, and holding destroyed instruments alike, but also with the same enthused smiles lighted up on their faces.

Celebratory high fives were passed around the band members, but before Jaime could give one to an expectant Tony, the owner's stern face emerged in front of them, his nostrils flared and his voluminous belly rising up and down steadily, smoke appearing to come out of his ears, startling the band out of their gregarious reverie.

"You damn brats, still happy about wrecking this place. I regret ever knowin' your name. No you boys better get out of here before I get you a damn good whacking to and slam your sorry little asses in jail!" The owner threatened, waving at them the remaining microphone stand that was still actually standing and almost tripping on the wires in the process.

"Sooooo...does this mean we don't get paid?" Vic asked innocently, a cute charming smile emblazoned on his face, doe eyes wide and sparkly, every uttered word in the sentence dripping with sass. Behind him, Jaime chuckled audibly, Tony grinned so wide it seemed the corners of his lips would split open, and Mike covered his mouth with one heavily-tattooed hand to stifle his laughter.

The owner only glared at them poisonously, radiating nothing but sheer hate and venom out of his eyes, and shoved them all out of the way, causing a little domino effect to the band and nearly tripping on the wire yet again, as he muttered various colourful profanities, most likely endowing the worst curses known to man and monsters upon the Mexicans. He shook his meaty fist once more before going past the outbalanced band members, and grabbed a broom to commence cleaning up the mess that they made.

"Great gig. Great time. Great job, guys." Mike praised his fellow band members, as they packed up and salvaged what little they can from their smashed equipment, but not before he added a grim "We still need money to buy new instruments though, and since Vic here killed off any chance of us getting paid, well..."

"Thank you Mike, that reeeeaaally boosted our morale." Tony replied sardonically with a laugh.

Vic, pretending to be hurt, indignantly glared at his younger brother with a sulking pout. "We weren't getting paid anyways, Mikey. It didn't hurt to ask."

"Hey, hey, I'm just kidding bro. Hell, I don't blame you anyways. I've always wanted to wreck the living shit out of my drums! I mean, who doesn't? It's the adrenaline, man, it gets you. This was awesome, you guys. P-T-V!" Mike ranted on happily, as they all cheered out in enthusiastic replies of "Wooooh!"

"Well, I take it that's a wrap?" Vic quipped cheekily. He was answered with an affirming chorus of "Oh yeah", "Guess so", and from Jaime, accompanied with an audibly rumbling stomach, "Anyone else also craving tacos right now?"

Jaime's out-of-place remark and hunger pangs gave Vic an idea for a fun little prank. He acted all excited, suddenly pointed out to a random corner, and shouted "Hey look Jaime, a taco stand giving food away for free!"

"Where?!" As Jaime's head frantically whipped to face where Vic was pointing, Vic glanced furtively at Tony and made silent finger motions, signaling for him to trip up Jaime. Tony understood immediately, and he surreptitiously crouched behind Jaime and positioned himself by his feet, waiting for the right moment.

"Oh, you know, it's just there Hime, if you'd just, like, I don't know, back up a little, maybe you'd see clearer or something, y'know..." Mike improvised, buying for time, and Vic facepalmed behind Jaime's back and mouthed "That didn't make sense bro." to him.

But despite Mike's lame assurances, Jaime still obediently obliged with his instructions and ambled a step backward. His legs caught on the crouching turtle by his legs, and he began to topple backfirst, arms thrashing about wildly as he tried to break his fall.

"Gotcha again, Jaime!" Vic said triumphantly, earning him victorious high fives and rounds of raucous laughter from Mike and Tony.

But due to unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances, Jaime's head accidentally contacted a nearby bowling ball (ironically, it was the yellow one that he tossed at one of Mike's drums earlier and nearly hit Tony), and he heard a sickening crack, as Vic, Tony, and Mike's laughs instantly dissipated and they immediately rushed to his side.

Jaime felt himself losing consciousness quickly, and his vision blurred and faded as he saw his friends' concerned faces looming over him, Vic frantically waving a hand to his face and calling out his name.

"Jaime? Jaime??? Jaaaaiiimmeeeeee..."

~*~

Jaime jolted awake at the sound of singing invading his ears, and his eyes fluttered open and he found himself curled up in a couch, his bass guitar cuddled up next to him, a fan-gifted monkey pillow strewn on his stomach, and an abandoned floral pattern notebook lying facedown by his limply-hanging fingertips.

The rest of the band was simply chilling out; Mike lounging next to him as he clutched a coffee mug in one hand and twirled a drumstick in the other, Vic looking at his ink scribbles with a pensive visage and a badly-chewed pen stuck between his teeth, making little vocal warm-ups with their names (at the moment, he was singing out "Hayyyymeeyyyy skunnkkkk"), and Tony softly strumming notes at random on a battered acoustic guitar.

Jaime remembered his dream and his hand immediately shot up to his hair, as if to feel the phantom of a nightmarish afro that never was, and he sighed a little too loudly in relief as he felt only the soft spikes of his hedgehog hair. He rubbed his bleary eyes as he examined the appearances of his fellow bandmates' hairstyles with mingled scepticism and doubt.

Watching this event unfold, the trio's questioning stares immediately pierced (pun very much intended) through the scrutinising Jaime, but it was Vic who asked the question first.

"You okay there, Jaime?" he said, momentarily ceasing with his playful vocal warm-ups, his inquiry slightly garbled by the writing instrument clamped between his mouth.

"Dude, I just had the weirdest dream..." Jaime started.

Mike snorted into his mug at amusement at Jaime's revelation, spinning the drumstick more furiously and throwing it in the air. "Expect Jaime to be so cliche."

Tony glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and retorted "And expect you to be the one breaking the fourth wall." Mike stuck out his tongue at Tony in reply, and he failed to catch the drumstick, the wooden stick clattering noisily on the floor.

But Jaime seemed not to hear them both as he leered at Mike's short hair, hidden under his black beanie, analysed Tony's expertly messed sticky-uppy hair and Key Street cap lying by his side, and finally settled to concentrating and peering at Vic's long and flowing hair as if it was an art exhibit.

Vic finally noticed Jaime's strange stare and stared back with questioning eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that? Something wrong with my hair? Is my hat not on straight? Or do you just not like my hat? Again?" Vic badgered endlessly, his voice taking on a concerned tone, running his hand throughout his head to check for anything weird.

Jaime said nothing to clear things out as he slowly reached out to feel for Vic's hair. Mike took a sip of his drink absentmindedly and flipped his drumstick as he watched blankly, engrossed by the scene, and Tony had an exasperated expression that sighed out a silent "Oh, Jaime, here we go again."

Jaime grabbed one end of Vic's hair and started tugging at it, as if testing for it's legitimacy.

"Ow! Jaime! What the hell?" Vic exclaimed, slapping Jaime's hand away. By coincidence, Tony hit a sour note on the guitar as he was distracted by the unfolding events, making a sound that added for comedic effect.

"Your hair...it's normal." Jaime lamely replied.

Vic squinted in suspicion as he ran his fingers over his locks to fix his hair. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Jaime closed his eyes and nodded in alleviated affirmation. "Oh it's good dude. It's good. It's just, well, just that dream..."

"Well, what dream? Don't keep us in suspense, Hime-time." Vic prompted eagerly, setting down his abused pen and rumpled notebook on the desk and dragging his chair closer to Jaime. Mike and Tony set down the instruments they were holding and leaned in closer to listen in as well.

Jaime sighed extravagantly once again and began to narrate. "It was like...we were having a concert in a frigging bowling alley...you had short hair and a stupid floral shirt...Mike was wearing this nerdy-ass sweater and vest, I don't know what it was...Tony was crowdsurfing on a bunch of weirdly-dressed people...and I had cotton ball for a hair...it was sick though, we smashed our instruments in the end, and oh, I nearly hit Tony with a bowling ball!"

Tony glared at Jaime in mock disdain. "Something you wanna say to me, Jaime?"

"And me! Did you just call my clothes nerdy?" Mike put in indignantly.

"You tripped me up and made me smash my skull on a bowling ball, Tony, so I'd say we're pretty much even. And also Mike, Vic was wearing a long-sleeved green floral pattern shirt and ironed beige pants and stupid hard shoes and he had short hair that looked like it was shaped out of clay, so there." Jaime explained in a flat tone to both offended parties, not missing a beat.

Tony simply made a 'seems legit' face and nodded. "Touche, Preciado."

Mike, on the other hand, stared at his older brother for a couple seconds, as if picturing Vic in the horrible clothes Jaime described, but his should-be bellowing laugh was reduced to a strained snort as Vic glared back at him venomously with a look that said "Don't you dare Michael."

Jaime carried on with his story gracelessly as he fumbled for the words, unable to describe the dream properly. "Anyways, it was just—I don't know, but it was like...a time travel or something...I don't know man...it was 1969!" He finally declared. Mike couldn't hold in his laughter anymore at the final part, and he began to double over laughing, strained wheeze escaping his throat like a squeaky balloon losing air.

"Aw dude, did you just marathon Back To The Future...again? Look, I know you wanna be the next Mexican Marty McFly, and we support that dream of yours, even if you don't look too good in bodywarmers, but...that's just askin' for it." Vic sympathetically apprehended with a little shake of his head. His maternal and disappointed tone of voice made Tony crack up, and Vic finally dropped his stern parent act and joined in with the mirth.

"But it was! I swear! 1969! A lady! Threw her bra at me!" Jaime punctuated almost pleadingly, his voice drowned out by the chaos of laughter.

His hysterical bandmates only laughed even harder at the bra throwing part, and Vic had to jump out of his seat and whack his younger brother in the back with immense force because he promptly choked on his drink, as the slapstick-looking act made Tony's smile grow impossibly wider.

"Yeah right, like that would ever happen. Keep on dreaming, Jaime." Vic deadpan quipped with a pokerfaced expression. Jaime finally stopped sulking and succumbed to the contagious hilarity and sheer ludicrousness of it all, dimples popping up as his laugh echoed the loudest inside the room.

After everyone had calmed down and managed to catch their breath, the place was filled with silent contentment and lingering traces of entertained expressions on their faces. Mike went to the kitchen to place his mug in the sink (but accidentally brought the drumstick with the mug instead of the spoon, which made for a very interesting story later on at band practice, when he accidentally ripped the skin off his snare drum with the metal utensil), Tony returned to fiddling with his guitar as he quietly played Dammit by Blink-182, and Vic held his pen and paper once again, but before he turned away to continue writing, he said softly to Jaime, this time with an earnest smile.

"Keep on dreaming, Jaime."

"Our lights knocked out, turned upside-down, I'm just a stupid motherfucker, can't figure it out."

#i'm so sorry for this #ptv #pierce the veil #fanfiction #band #bandom #vic fuentes #tony perry #jaime preciado #floral and fading #mv #one shot #short story #crack #trash

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “SALLY”

Nobody knows why the Joker keeps on calling you Sally and you answer to it. Are you two in a weird mood again? Playing games? Messing around? Better not to ask any questions if one wants to stay alive.

Frost has the flu. It started three days ago and got worse today so you ordered him to stay in bed. He had a bunch of things assigned from his boss but you convinced your boyfriend to give him a break. You really don’t want to talk about what it took to get J’s approval, but it involves a very wild previous night, the sofa in the living room and the couch on the balcony, handcuffs, two lingerie outfits and ice cream. 

Needless to say the Joker is not happy you are so doting with Jonny.

“Are you dying Frost?” he growls from the armchair, watching you touch your best friend’s forehead and cheeks to assess his fever.

“No, sir,” he turns his head towards a displeased Prince of Crime.

“Would you like to?” the question comes and you sigh, regretting taking J with you into Jonny’s quarters. Not that you could have said no since he followed you closely.

“No, Mister J,” Frost replies, pulling away from you because he realizes he’s walking on thin ice without even doing anything.

“Then stop touching my woman!” J barks, pointing his finger towards you two.

“Baby, I’m touching him, OK?” you state your evident action, not looking his way because it makes it worse; you don’t want to encourage this behavior.

“Tech-ni-ca-li-ties,” the Joker grumbles, his blue eyes burning.

“Take this, it’s for body ache,” you hand over 3 Ibuprofen capsules to Frost with a glass of water, hoping J will calm down. You feel the intensity of his gaze even if your back is turned. The gun clicks and you decide to finally glare at your boyfriend.

“Would you like another body ache, Frost? A more… permanent one?” the words echo in the bedroom, louder and louder since he’s annoyed and his wrecked temper is starting to show more and more.

“Stop it, baby!” you frown, stepping in front of the gun. “He’s sick and I’m merely taking care of him.”

J inhales, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, deliberating on his next step and lowers his pistol, placing it back in the holster.

Frost wants to reply but instead you talk again:

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how pissed are you J?”

You always use the scale to have an idea about how mad the Joker is.

“About a 5,” he sniffles, scratching his arm.

“We’re doing good then!” you cheerfully conclude and go over to kiss your boyfriend as a reward he’s only a 5 even if it seemed it was much worse. J purrs and squeezes you tight in his arms, glad his possessiveness and jealousy dictate the mood around there.

Jonny begins to cough his lungs out and J reaches for his gun but you stop his hand and placing it around your waist again.

“Noooo, don’t do that,” you continue to kiss him and peck his lips, then his eyes, then his cheeks all over.

“But why does he have to interrupt, Princess?” J complains, pulling you in his lap and enjoying you pampering and showering him with kisses.

“He’s just sick, baby,” you whisper in his ear, then kiss his neck and… Frost won’t stop coughing and he feels so weird when you two converse like he’s not even there but he’s used to it. After such a long time, Jonny knows it’s part of your strategy.

“I think I’m getting to a 7!!” J angrily admits and you quickly get up, taking his hand and urging him to get up.

“Oh, no, please don’t get to a 7! We’re going, Jonny! I’ll be back later to check up on you,” and you drag your boyfriend out before he completely loses his shit.

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

“Y/N!!!!!! Y/N!! Hey, Kitten! Com’ere!” he yells so you can hear him from downstairs.

“What is it?” you rush to see what’s going on.

“Doll, I think I have a hair growing on my arm!” he shows you the spot by the Bat tattoo.

“Where?” you bring your eyes really close so you can investigate and there is actually something there. “Oh my God, baby, you’re growing hair on your body?!” you panic and it doesn’t help the fact that he’s already displeased to the maximum by the situation.

“Dammit, woman, you’re making it worse!” The Joker mutters, aggravated to the point of having a tantrum, urging you to bring the tweezers so you can pluck out the culprit.

You don’t move and really have to let him know:

“I really love you but if you start growing hair on your body I’ll have to find me another man; I don’t like hairy guys,” and you lift your shoulders up to emphasize you mean it. Oooooh, that was the wrong thing to say, even if it’s not true.

J instantly snaps and the only solution to the perturbation is to inquire:

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how pissed are you baby?”

“Between 7 and 8!” he shouts back, tossing his cane to the ground and stepping on it, mad beyond control, and you know you’re the next to pay but you’re in luck:

“Wanna have angry sex?” you smirk, relieved (when he’s angry between 7 and 8 you can usually calm him down with sex).

“Yeah!!” J turns his attention towards you, slamming you on the kitchen counter and starting to rip your clothes off.

Dodged the bullet there, thank goodness he didn’t reach a 9.

It also turned out it was false alarm: no hair, just a faded shade of black pen marking, probably from when he was tracing locations on Gotham’s map and didn’t realize he touched his skin with it. At least you had a huge smile on your face for the rest of the day because… did he go crazy on you or what?! And you totally enjoyed it.

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

The Joker hates that you and Frost have your thing: you have your jokes, your stories and all the little things only the two of you know about since you are best friends. Sometimes it only takes one word and you know what the other is talking about. The King of Gotham never had a thing with anybody and it makes him hold a grudge against your friendship. He knows there is nothing going on between you and Jonny that way but it doesn’t make him less discontent.

You are aware of it because your boyfriend told you about it once when he was a 6 on the mad scale. You were fighting and in the heat of the moment he threw that in your face; you didn’t really have a comeback afterwards since you didn’t know how to handle it. That’s why you are determined to find a thing that only you and him can have. So far, no luck.

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

** When you showed up at the penthouse with your left cheek all cut up, things escalated faster than expected. You broke into Van Criss laboratories to extract a new toxin J wanted to sell on the black market and got ambushed. After a chase, lots of shooting, a knife fight and your face slashed in the process, you barely made it out of there. You wanted to make The Joker proud so you sneaked in at night alone, didn’t take any henchmen with you. Not the best idea you ever had.**

He keeps on furiously pressing the cuts, attempting to stop the bleeding.

“Fuck, Kitten, what the hell were you thinking?!” He rarely cusses like this so you know it’s not a good sign. J is not being gentle and it stings sooooo bad when the rubbing alcohol is being poured on your fresh wounds.  You want to cry badly but you’ve read somewhere that a person looks 11.33% uglier when they cry and you can’t afford that right now with your left cheek a mess.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper, trying to hold the tears in, clinging to his white shirt that has your blood all over. “I-I got what you wanted though,” you stutter, closing your eyes really tight since the pain won’t stop.

“Do I really care about that right now?!” J kicks your leg and it makes you jump. “Who did this to you?” he snarls, patching and covering with gauze whatever he can, fully aware you’ll have scars after this solo adventure of yours.

“A-a guard, “ you bury your face in his chest since he’s done. “Am I… am I gonna be ugly now?!” you sound so desperate it makes him more enraged.

“Nobody does this to my Pumpkin!” The Joker reckons with a clenched jaw. “I have to gather our men, we’re going on a mission!”

“Where are you going?” you ask with a muffled voice, still taking refuge in his arms, worried at his impulsiveness. He ignores you and caresses your hair, absent minded. You feel his body getting stiff and have to ask:

“Ummm…on a scale of 1 to 10, how pissed are you baby?”

“A 12!!!” J angrily exclaims, pushing you away and storming out the door, slamming everything in his way towards the exit.

You are left alone in the middle of the living room, patched up in bloody bandages; you even forgot to cry: a 12??!!! What is a 12??!! How do you handle it?! It’s not even on the scale!!! It makes you hysterical: what is The Clown Prince of Crime going to do?!

Well, The Van Criss lab location you were at earlier tonight got blown up to pieces: it’s all over the news. There was not a single wall or pole left standing, no survivors.( At least so far they didn’t find any). The only clue that might tell the authorities what happened was found on the concrete fence near the South entrance: a laughing mouth, full of teeth, painted with neon green spray and the inscription on top of it: “Nobody messes with my girl!”

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

Your face healed and The Joker was right: you have deep scars ingrained in your skin. You thought you will hate your new appearance but actually kind of like it: it suits you. J believes it makes you look badass and that’s more than good enough for you.

The best compliment he found so far is telling you that you don’t look as bad as Deadpool. Thank you, honey; you know how to make a girl feel special. T____T

J insisted to give you a face tattoo on top of your scars to make them look better: black stitches with small bows at each end. You were very skeptical about the whole project but the King of Gotham is not used to take no for an answer.

You analyze everything in the mirror and have to admit J did a good job: the tattoo is a success! Plus, you can always cover it with make up if you really want to.

You trace the lines with your fingers and …idea!!!

“J!! J!!!” you land on top of him since he’s in bed, watching TV. “Hmm?” he pretends not to notice you’re almost naked.

“What do these scars remind you of?”

“Ummm…. Deadpool?” he teases and you punch his shoulder, pouting.

“You’re incorrigible!”

“I know, but tell me anyway, Kitten,” he slaps your butt, winking at you with that evil smile on his lips.

“Guess!”

“My answer is the same unless you enlighten me Doll,” The Joker purrs, shifting so he’s on top of you.

You reach for his cell and Google something really fast then show him on the screen:

“Sally from Nightmare before Christmas, baby! My scars almost look like hers,” you excitedly indicate and he chuckles. “I can be your Sally,” you toss the phone at the end of the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “This will be our thing: I’m your stitched girlfriend; what do you think?”

Him staring at you without blinking makes you nervous. Oh, no, is this taking a bad turn?

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how pissed are you J?” you sigh, disappointed your idea got dismissed.

“Zero,” J mumbles, roughly kissing you. “Daddy likes his new Sally,” he snickers, delighted he finally has a thing with somebody. That somebody being his girlfriend makes it even better.

“Really? You mean it?” you pull on his bottom lip and J purrs louder.

“Yes, I mean it; now lets get my new Doll out of these rags.”

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

Nobody knows why the Joker keeps on calling you Sally and you answer to it. Are you two in a weird mood again? Playing games? Messing around? Better not to ask any questions if one wants to stay alive. After all, nobody dares to upset the Clown Prince of Crime and his Sally. It could easily escalate to a full blown 12 again.

And 12 is not even on the damn scale!

Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker #the joker suicide squad #the suicide squad #jared leto #mistah j #mister j #mr. j #sexy villain #dc #dc comics

[og-doubletrouble-kinnie]

That Marx mem

It's long- And in a buncha different formats cause I'm just copy/pasting from discord

Under a cut. But its not bad, just long

Brain: You met Angels siblings and dad

Me: Wait really

Brain: They all loved you

Me: for obvious reasons

Brain: Molly and Arackniss flirted with you hard core and Angel smacked them both

Me: Uh-

Brain: and papa spider gave you and aproving nod and Angel almost cried cause of that

--

Im gettin images of Molly doin that fuckin

Thing girls do to accentuate their chest to guys they like and battin her eyes at me and im just thinkin

"Uuuuhhhhhhhh I like girls as much as the next guy but plz I am technically dating your brother this is weird"

"MOLS STOP TRYIN TA SHOW YOUR TITS TA MARX THATS MY JOB"

"How about you both stop fawning over him, he aint that special"

"Arackniss your blushing"

"SHUT UP"

-quietly dying in dragon-

--

"You two know I have three brothers right"

Molly slams all four fists on the table "ARE YOU SERIOUS"

"Y-y es?"

Angel sighs "ya shouldnt have said that"

Molly grabs my hands from across the table, she has this huge fuckin grin and Angel is glaring at her so hard "Tell us about your brothers"

"U-uhhhhh-" I look at Angel for a split second and he gives me this look of "dont you fucking dare" and u h

I mouth "I'm sorry", look back to Molly, pulling my hands from hers (with a bit of a challenge honestly) "Wellll I have two younger brothers, and one older-" Molly rests her chin in her hands and Angel slaps all six of his hands against his face. I grin and continue "I don't think y'all would like Fitch- My older brother. Hes a total douche like- Worse than Arackniss-"

"HEY!"

"Whaat??" I chuckle, "He's always tryin ta kill me in some way- It's really annoying... He's got this silly god complex... Not fun to deal with." Molly pouts- I probably shouldnt have started with Fitch, she seems dissapointed. "Hes the only bad one though, Hatchet's pretty entertaining... He's about a year younger than me, covered in tattoos, and really... Spikey... He looks pretty tough but he's soft- he's the only one of us who can put up with Fitch for more than five seconds-"

Angel mumbles into his hands "Marx please shut up"

"Am I not allowed to tell your siblings about my own? You told me sooooo much about these two... I figured I could do the same~" I'm honestly having fun purely cause I'm bugging Angel- I pat his cheek with my tail, and Arackniss pipes up.

"Ya gonna tell us 'bout the last brother or are ya gonna keep teasin Angel?"

"Oh Arackniss, I can do both at the same time~ Now- Malcom. He's the youngest of us, and he's a lil... Weird. In a good way though! He doesn't talk much, but he's incredibly cuddly and sweet. He loves to find a way into my apartment at absolutely random times, and he will tackle ya if he knows ya pretty well. I think y'all would li-"

Angel slaps a hand over my mouth "Okay there we go- haha Ya told 'em bout your brothers.. Woo hoo-" He twirls a finger in the air, "You two happy now?"

--

"Wh- Bee you're gonna miss meetin Angels family!"

"Yeah- Well I don't really have a choice in the matter, boss"

"It'll be fine, 'm sure Molly'll try to see ya again.. Just go out on your job"

--

"GOD Bee I wish ya could've been there, it was amazing!"

"Molly and Arackniss were just flirting with ya the whole time"

"THATS WHY IT WAS AMAZING!!!"

"Marx oh my fucking god-"

"You told Molly when she wanted ta meet us that I attract spiders. All of y'all knew this was gonna be a disaster for you"

Angel groans "I know so I dunno why I a gr eeeeeeddddddd"

"I take it it went well?"

"-w- Incredibly"

"And?"

"We're having dinner with them again next weekend"

"Oh my god-"

"It was Marx's idea and he wouldnt let me say no"

"Bee needs to see the beauty of the chaos"

"he really doesnt"

"..... Yes I do...."

GR OAN S from Angel

--

-that next weekend-

Me: -immediately dies as Molly tackles me and holds my arm until Angel pries her off of me-

Bee: -laughing his ass off in the background-

--

Me: -finds a piece of paper in my pocket-

Paper: -has Molly's number on it-

Me: ..... Uhhhhhhhhh -notices Arackniss scribbled his own really small in the corner- Aaaaaannnngggeeeeeellllll

--

"If ya ever get tired a Angel.." She winks

"MOLLY I CAN HEAR YOU"

"Haha- Thanks but-"

"Oh don't worry, hun I know ya got plenty 'a options..." She pats my chest "It's just an offer~ 'N 'niss has the same lil offer.. In case ya want him instead"

I hear Arackniss spit his drink "MOLLY!!"

Marx.exe has stopped working. Not used to this much love

#nervouswreck #damn i hope the readmore works-

[lets-idont-even-know]

NSFW 1-91 sorry

1:When did you lose your virginity?-182: Rough sex or soft sex?-Rough3: Do you have any unusual kinks/fetishes?-Not unusual 4: Weirdest place you’ve had sex?Park bench5: Favourite sex position?-Any one involving Faith pretty much6: Do you like to be dominant or submissive?-Dominant7: Have you ever had any one night stands?-Nope8: Sex on the bed, couch or the floor?-All please9: Have you ever had sex in a public place?-Yes lmao10: Have you ever been caught masturbating?-Almost11: What does your favourite sexy underwear look like?-Maroon and lacey12: How often do you have sex?-When we're together, just about every day 😂13: Is there anybody right now you’d like to have sex with?-My gf14: Do you prefer giving or receiving oral sex?-Both15: Most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you during sex?-It was like the middle of the day and things were getting hot and heavy with Faith and my friends knocked on the door and knew we were in there so we had to find all of our clothes and shit and it was just awkward16: A song you’d listen to during hard/rough/kinky sex?-Bad Intentions17: A song you’d listen to during soft/slow/passionate sex?-Ride18: Are you into dressing up for sex?-Not opposed19: Would you prefer sex in the bath or sex in the shower?-Shower20: If you could have sex with anyone right now, who would it be?-Faith21: Have you ever had a threesome? If not, would you?-No22: Do you/would you use sex toys?-Yes23: Have you ever sent someone a dirty text/picture?-Absolutely 😂24: Would you have sex with your best friend?-Well I currently do on a regular so 25: Is there anything you do after sex? (for example, smoke, eat, drink)-usually eat or just chill26: Something that will never fail to get you horny?-when she just randomly shows me her boobs honestly 27: Early morning sex or late night sex?-Why not both? 28: Favourite body part on the opposite sex?-It's not a body part but when guys have good hair, that's pretty swell 29: Favourite body part on the same sex?-I'm usually an ass girl but Faith has just great everything so 30: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find:-Yikes 😅😂 my friends already know about it so it's not hidden 😂31: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you:-Never had any really out of the ordinary sex tbh32: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?]-Yes33: Is it ever okay to not use a condom:-If you're trying to get pregnant 34: A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience:-Ummm idk 😂35: Worst possible time to get horny:-When your gf is 2,000 miles away36: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans?-ABSOLUTELY 😍37: How much fapping is too much fapping:-When it hurts? 😂38: Best sexual complement you ever got:-"You're so good" and "you taste so good"39: Favorite foreplay activities:-all of them 40: What do you wear to bed?-Usually a sports bra and boxers or one of Faiths shirts 41: When was the first time you masturbated:-Ummmmm idk honestly 42: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself?-i usually delete them after I've sent them 😂43: Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside?-I have but I don't remember when the last time was44: Have/would you ever have sex in public?-I have 45: Have/would you ever had a threesome?-Nope46: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate?-Never used random objects lmao47: Do you watch gay/lesbian porn? why/why not?-Lesbian porn is so extra honestly. Like I feel like it's always so weirdly aggressive and loud 48: Do you like oral sex? (why/why not)-YES49: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in?-OMG YES I LOVE IT 50: How would you feel about taking someones virginity?-It wouldn't bother me, I'd feel honored I guess51: Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter?-Idk stuff that's too sticky? I've never used food yet so idk 😂52: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute?-Pornstar53: Do you watch porn?-If it pops up on my dash 😂54: Have you ever been called a freak? Why?-Nope 55: Do you feel comfortable going “commando”?-No I feel weird about it 😂56: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn’t shaved their pubic hair?-I have a hair phobia so I wouldn't go down but like a couple days without shaving doesn't bother me 57: If you could give yourself head, would you?-No58: Booty or Boobs?-Both 59: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?)-I have not 60: If you were the other sex for a day, what are five things you would do?-Masturbate, Fuck, get a really good job, buy a really nice suit for no reason and wear it everywhere, and idk what else 61: have you ever watched someone masturbate?-Yessss62: has anyone ever watched you masturbate?-Mhmmm63. Have you ever had an erection and someone noticed?-Oh all the time 64. What is your method of masturbation? (ie. toys, clitorial, prostate)-clitoral65. What is your bra/penis size?-idk honestly 😂 it's been a minute since I've paid any attention 66. What is the strangest thing you have ever put up your vagina/anus?-A finger is as weird as it gets, sorry 67. When was the last time you masturbated?-2 days ago68. When was the last time you had sex?-February69. When was the last time you watched porn?-This morning on my dash70. Have you ever bought a sex toy? If so, which one did you buy last? First sex toy? If not, which one do you plan on buying when you do?-I have not bought one and idk which one when I do 71. Guys:Circumsized?-Yes72. Which not-genital part of your body do you like being touched?-My shoulders and neck 73. Which genital part of your body do you like being touched?-All of them 74. Girls:Are you able to achieve orgasm just through breast stimulation?-No75. Have you anonymously sent a sexual ask to someone on tumblr?-Nah fam 76. When was the last time you have had a wet dream?-I don't remember 77. Which wet dream was your favorite?-I don't know 78. Is there a friend you would willingly have sex with?-Nah79. Is there a celebrity/character you would willingly have sex with?-Who wouldn't 80. Favorite sexual position? -Usually involves her underneath me 81. Do you like being called a slut or whore in bed?-No82. Are you into any BDSM?-Lil bit83. Have you ever wanted to have sex with someone but knew you couldnt for any reason? Why?-Hasn't everyone?84. Do you like dirty talk?-Yeahhhh85. Are you loud or quiet during sex? Masturbation?-Quiet cuz I've mostly had sex/masturbated in a dorm sooooo86. Have you ever been inturrepted during sex or masturbation? Who/what?-Yes by my friends 🙃87. What kind of porn do you like to watch?-I don't have a preference88. Have you ever confessed to someone that you got an erection over them? What about masturbated to them?-Yeah. I tell Faith I get erections for her all the time 89. Have you ever masturbated because your sexual partner wasn’t there when you needed them?-Yes lmao 90. Have you ever had a one night stand? Do you still keep in contact with them?-I have not91. Have you ever had a friends with benefits? Are they still beneficial?-Nope never have

[princeyandanxiety]

The "ask me things" ask - all of them!!! Or if that's too insane, do the first 20 and the last 20 :p

The answers are short bc i was rushing them haha but ill put em under the read more

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?

… I would be very, very freaked out. Words would not be said. Only screaming.

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?

I saw him last month. No offense, but he cannot write a decent speech.

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care?

Depending on the drug, it’d vary from “please just make sure you’re safe” to “oh god how do i convince you that this is a bad idea [panicky pharmacist daughter vibrating]”

4. Is your last name longer than six letters?

[counts letters on fingers] yes!

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober?

Sober.

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up?

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyep

7. What does your last received text say?

“Ok, see you next week. Thanks. :)”8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed?

Once.

9. Where was your last kiss at?

Kindergarten classroom. In my primary school.

10. When is the last time you saw your sister?

[checks time] uh like an hour ago?

11. What do you drink in the morning?

Water or cinnamon orange tea

12. Where did you sleep last night?

My bed.

13. Do you think relationships are hard?

They’re a lot of work, but they’re ultimately a choice that both people have to make. I’d like to hope that they’re ultimately worth it.

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you?

Mostly test results.

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems?

“Oh, hey, we haven’t talked in like 6 years. How’s life?”

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy?

Sunny.

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you?

Lmao fuck no.

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants?

Pj pants!

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now?

Yes. Because I’ll have finished my HSC.

20. Does anyone like you?

Yes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S?

No. Only an A, a T, and another A.

22. Is the last person you kissed gay?

[shrugs[

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand?

There are multiple. Be more specific.

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?

Yeah but I’m a fucking wuss haha I’d probs pass out from the pain or something.

25. In the past week have you cried?

I cried like 9  hours ago lmao

26. What breed was the last dog you saw?

TOY POODLE!

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower?

Who the fuck dries themself in the shower? It’s all watery in there. Foot mats exist for a reason.

28. Have you ever kissed a football player?

nnnnnnnnnnnnnope

29. Do you think you’re old?

Sometimes i feel a little old, but I know that I’m still pretty damn young

30. Do you like text messaging?

Lmao I prefer it to calling that’s for damn sure. I dont actually text all that much tho. Mostly because the people i’d text have free messenger services anyway. That or the bill for texting them would be pretty fuckin pricey.

31. What type of day are you having?

It’s on the better side of neutral.

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced?

Nooooo thanks. I got my ears pieced when I was like 3 and that was enough for me!

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

Mildly cold weather.

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you?

Yes! He’s been my friend since kindergarten haha

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling?

relationship because i am a massive romantic (whICH REMINDS ME-)

36. Are you a simple or complicated person?

Is anyone actually simple? Like really? There are always so many different parts to one person, so many intricacies and contradictions, good and bad, that they might not even think about.

… so im probably a more complicated person haha.

37. What song are you listening to?

Nice2KnoU by All Time Low i love it sooooo muuuuuuch38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it?

Most of the time, yeah.

39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you?Ooooooh yeah. They probably have the most power to wreck me lmao.

40. What made you start liking the person you like now?

Okay in my defense I didn’t realise I actually liked them until my brain was like “lmao what if you had a crush on this person” and I was like “oh. oh fuck. I actually do have a crush on them” but i think it was a few things. they always make me smile, and they don’t mind that i can be a clingy motherfucker. They’re also funny and super sweet, and they have such an amazing mind and personality. Tbh im not entirely surprised that i fell for them because when i click with someone as well as i initially did with them i tend to develop feelings pretty quickly from there.

41. When did you last receive a text message?5:14 pm

42. What is wrong with you right now?Do you have the time to hear the answer to that?

43. How well do you know the last female you texted?Eh. She’s a  teacher.

44. Does anyone disgust you?

Yes.45. Would you date someone right now if they asked?Unfortunately, no, probably not.

46. Are you in a good mood right now?{come back to this}

47. Who was the last person you talked to in person?My mum

48. What color shirt are you wearing?

Black. Like my soul.49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear?Yes.

50. Anyone you’re giving up on?

Yeah. Myself.51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for?

… yes because he turned out to be a dick.

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t?See above.

53. Do you like rain?I frikkin’ love it

54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks?Not really. I’d only be really worried if it was unhealthy levels of drinking.

55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them?

… Lmao I always tend to admit it eventually, I think. A few times I’ve been like “oh yeah, I used to have a crush on you haha” 56. Do you like to cuddle?

Never… actually… cuddled before...

57. Are you shy?

Eh, it depends. 58. Do you get along with girls?

I tend to get along better with girls than guys tbh but when I was younger I always had a lot of girl cousins and at primary school it was always pretty divided between boys and girls

59. Have you dated the person you texted last?Fuck. no.

60. What do you carry with you at all times?

My phone 61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you?

… maybe. 62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months?I sure as hell hope I can

63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship?

Ahhh, the beginning of HSC. I was so young then. So hopeful.

Too bad my soul has been squashed. 64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute?

… Bells has just passed out from thinking about this please leave a message after the beep *beeeeep*65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week?

My friend did really well on an important test and she was super happy about it haha

66. How old are the last three people you kissed?

Between 17 and 18.

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself?    I like doing my own nails but tbh I *really* wanna get them done one day.

68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?    

How about neither????69. Do you have any stickers on your car?    Nah

70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?    Who?

71. Blackberry, Anroid, or iPhone?    Android!

72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?    

Fuck if I know lmao73. Do you like diet soda?    

Ew no74. What color are the walls in your room?    

Varying shades of purple

75. Are you 16 or older?    Yep!

76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?    Nope!

77. Do you have a job?    

Double nope!  78. What are your initials?    

Identification.79. Did you ever have braces?    

Got ‘em right now haha80. Are you from the south?    

I COME FROM A LAND DOWN UNDER so technically yeah

81. What does your last status on facebook say?    “How does a worried Hispanic person count to three?Uno, dos, stress.”

82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?    Lol no I don't even know if he's alive

83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?    

Mum :)84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?    

I did gymnastics in kindergarten!

I hated it.85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?    

Probably Moana?86. Do you smoke?   

Nah 87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?    

THONGS M888. Is your phone touch screen?    

Yes.89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?    

My hair is straight than I am most of the time.90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?    Haha no.91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?

Pool   92. Have you ever made out in a car?    Nope

93. …Had sex in a car?    Double nope

94. Are you single or in a relationship?    Single!

95. What were you doing last night at midnight?    Sleeping like a baby

96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?  

In person? A few years, now.  

97. Do you like the camera on your phone?   Yes. because i have a samsung galaxy s7 now. My s3 had the picture quality of a potato.

98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?    Nope.

99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?    THREE MORE MONTHS. But no not yet

100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?    Uh theres one person that i’ve been holding a grudge against for fucking ever but other than that no?

101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? … look bayer and bayer would be getting sued if i was pregnant.

102. Name your favorite Kesha song:    C’mon

103. Do you have any tan lines right now?

Nah its winter so im all long shirts and knee socks rn   104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts? 

Idk maybe

#ask #ask tag #anon #in which bells makes a sneaky admission #its not a massive thing lmao but *finger guns*

[deckspair]

Tokyo Ghetto (Reprise) | Kosuke | Attn: Chouko, Akira, Law K., Neo, Ukiyo-maemi (kind of at the end))

Kosuke didn’t truly expect Chouko to look up, let alone close the gap between them. He’d hurt her, hadn’t he? And she was angry, which she had every right to be-

He lets out a soft ‘oof’ as Chouko suddenly crushes him in a hug, only hesitating for a moment before he hugs back just as fiercely. A few sobs definitely escape from the urban biologist, but they’re mostly muffled.

“Ny-nyahahah!” He laughs a bit, then hiccups, then bends down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. Simpler times did lift a bit of despair off his shoulders. “Can’t believe ya remembered that, Chouko. I’ll go out dabbin’, just for ya. But... yeah. Dunno what happens after we die ‘n shit, dunno if anythin’ happens after, but ‘til we figure that out... I’ll miss ya too. Don’t regret puttin’ my trust in ya, not one bit! I want ya to get outta here alright, so please be careful.”

Sniffing, Kosuke wipes his nose with the sleeve of his lab coat, which appears to be older and more threadbare than his usual coat. He takes out his room key and what looks like an old, beaten up Tamagotchi and presents them to Chouko.

“While yer over here, Chouko, yer welcome to any shit I have in my luggage ‘fore someone I don’t like loots it. Like, uh, my Nintendo DS! Ya kinda got the same color as Kirby, so, uh, go ham if that’s yer thing.”

While he still can, Kosuke gives Chouko one final hug. Had to make it count. Then dabs for good measure. Somwwhat unwillingly, he looks over her head at Akira, who was having... some kind of breakdown.

“I hear what yer sayin’. Maybe yer right about some stuff. And unless yer greatest fear is drownin’, ya don’t have anythin’ to worry ‘bout. Why the fuck would I lie to ya, though? Yer smart, the evidence is right there if ya checked out the bachelor pad.”

He eyes Law carefully as he advances, suspicious until he determined that he was sincere. With less hesitation now, Kosuke bent down and accepted a hug from one Law Kiyuu, grateful for the comfort in the end. After a moment of consideration, He unclipped his bee pin and pressed it into Law’s hand, then did the same with the plain fidget ring on his finger.

“Geez, forget yer all shortasses sometimes. Appreciate ya being yer genuine self this whole time, my guy. And... yeah, I liked ya too. Don’t get all serious after I’m gone, k? Daikon dorm’s gonna be empty now if ya ever need yer own space.

I think ya got a good shot at gettin’ outta here, if that’s what ya want.”

After all that, Kosuke gives Law the widest grin of sharp teeth he can muster up in this situation. Then, he faced Neo. He saved Neo for last, partially because his query was larger than just him. Ultimately, a large part of why he didn’t want to die was... who would take care of the rescue shelter when he was gone?

“This ain’t research. It’s torture, these fuckers’re breakin’ sooooo many ethics laws... glad ya asked, though. There’s somethin’ I’ll ask if yer willin’ to listen, Neo-chi. Ya really care about Haruka, though, so I trust ya think of yer cat the same way I do mine. Remember me talkin’ ‘bout my rescue animals? They saved me, really. I’d be long dead in some alleyway gutter unless those first few cats took a likin’ to me. So, I wanna make sure they’ll be ok after this. I fucked up, not all of 'em. The shelter’s in, uh, one of the seedier parts of Tokyo, sorry, but no one ever messes with it."

Digging around in the deep pocket on the front of his lab coat, Kosuke produced a bulky set of keys, a neon yellow flash drive, and, hesitantly, slid his thick, weathered notebook onto his podium. He also wrote down a few things on a scrap of paper addressed to Shinobu since he... wasn’t able to talk now!

“Keys to my shelter. My research notes, coverin’ every animal I take care of, what medicine they need, details of a disease I’ve almost cured. Give these to my foster parents. Jun and Chie Todoroki, their address is on the inside cover. They’ll take care of all my rescues once I’m gone, they promised. And... please, please don’t tell ‘em I fucked up like this and let ‘em down. They’re both incredible and got me away from... uh, bad stuff, so it’d break their hearts. And, uh, my college funds are under my bed. If ya can, make sure half of it goes to ‘em as repayment for takin’ a stray like me in. The other half goes to the shelter.”

Cracking open the notebook, he beckons Neo over and points to two animals. An Akita Inu with a star over one eye and a lilac Abyssinian.

“Yukio and Mira. They’re my favorites, make sure my foster parents get ‘em too. They can’t be separated, so just... please make sure they’re safe.

If yer, uh, cool with it... I think Neo-chi, Chouko, Law-chi, Shinobu-chi, or... maybe Akira-chi can handle this task. If one of ya gets outta here alive... please. I don’t want any animal I cared for to suffer ‘cuz I couldn’t stick around for ‘em. And, uh... therapy animals work wonders. Just sayin’.

If ya somehow find my birth parents, don’t tell ‘em anythin’. It’s best that way.

...there’s a girl with a rose tattoo that helps out in the shelter every Tuesday and Thursday. Give her the flash drive, please, it’s got all my ship logs on it. Neo-chi would, uh, r-recognize her from that picture.”

Honestly, Kosuke considered throwing out that picture he was given. But... 

At the end, Kosuke would face the end as himself. Maybe this wasn’t the ideal end to his seventeen years, there was so much more to do...! It was the best he could manage in these circumstances.

“If ya voted for me, ya should watch whatever comes next. Unless ya think my death ain’t worth yer time - or maybe this’ll give ya more reason to figure out who’s behind all this.”

#chapter 3 #trial 3 #kosuke #submission

[schrijfpen-blog]

Not Just Cinderella Ch. 1

Story Navigation

My name is Alexis Glass. I know, I know. We’re off to a horrible start. But before you leave, why don’t you try hearing me out for a bit first? Not like you have anything to lose, right? Not like me, at least. Senior year was… whew. It was something else, that’s for sure. Oh, whoops! That was probably too much information, wasn’t it?

    Let’s see, what happened was… Actually, you know what? Instead of telling you, why don’t I show you? Sit tight and feast your eyes on the story of my last year of High School. Whether my stupidity deserved the things I got… well, I’ll let you be the judge of that.

“It’s cold!” Pulling my hand knitted scarf up to my nose to protect my flushed skin, I glance over to my side. “How aren’t you cold?”

    “Because unlike you, I have a proper coat,”

    I tug the worn jacket closer “This coat is proper enough, thank you very much,”

    “Yeah? Maybe in the last century,”

    “Still a more recent fashion than yours,”

    Walking next to me is Logan Robinson. I guess you could call him a ‘scene guy’, if you’re into stereotypes. He has the choppy black bangs with some blonde streaks, the beanie, the skinny jeans- he even has the striped sweater even though that’s currently hidden under his army green cargo jacket. Despite the cold he still wears his converses. I swear he’d rather lose his toes to frostbite than switch up his style. He has a tongue piercing, a brow piercing in his right brow, and both his ears have several piercings. Every time he has something to celebrate, he seems to be doing it with a new piercing somewhere. I like to imagine what his ears will look like when he’s sixty. Completely made of metal, maybe?

    We dated once back in middle school, though it was just a brief thing. We’d been friends for so long that our feelings had gotten a little mixed up, and we thought we had feelings we didn’t actually have. We decided pretty fast that we were definitely better off as friends.

    “Isn’t one of your step sisters buying a new coat sometime soon, or something?” Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Logan turns his attention to the sky. “I swear they buy clothes more often than I switch my underwear,”

    “Please switch your underwear more often,” I send him a mock disgusted look, and he shoves me in return, our laughs mingling in the cold October air.

    “Ahhh the loser commission has gathered once again~ Pity the school hasn’t banned it yet,” 

    That’s one voice I can recognize even in my nightmares. Dakota Steps, tall, blonde and curvy. She’s always surrounded by people, but I’m pretty sure that has to do with her money more than it does her ‘sunny’ personality. That is definitely one queen bee who is always surrounded by her hive.

    “Can’t wait to get inside, I’m freezing my toes off,” Logan complains, not even a glance towards Dakota.

    “Maybe you should put on socks?” I suggest.

    He pulls a disgusted face “What kind of fashion includes socks?”

    “The kind that likes having toes,”

    “Ugh,” Dakota flicks her long, golden hair over her shoulder and rolls her big baby blue eyes. I know that look; it’s the same look she had before Logan’s locker ‘mysteriously’ ended up filled with slime and syrup back in junior year. It didn’t smell very pleasant, and neither was it fun to clean the hallways after the janitor caught us trying to shove it down each other’s shirts.

    “Guys! Hey guys!” Running up and waving her arms wildly, Elena Maus comes into view. Her dark brown hair is wild as ever, freckles on her face and dimples in her cheek as she grins at us, chocolate brown eyes squinting. Short and stout, she dresses in a colourful mess of one bright colour after the next. “You took forever!” Face flushed, she comes to a stop before us, catching her breath. 

    “You won’t believe who I almost walked into earlier!” She fans herself with her hands, the neon bangles around her wrists making noise with every movement. “Guess!”

    “You’re still in one piece, so it wasn’t the bee,” Logan says.

    “Oh no, not her. Definitely not her,” Elena shakes her head. “It was Storm! I was sooooo close to making contact with him!”

    “Why didn’t you just walk into him?” Logan asks.

    I shove Logan’s arm. “You can’t just walk into the Prince, idiot,”

    “Takes one to know one,” he scoffs, shoving me back.

    “Guys, guys!” Elena flails her arms between the two of us, breaking us apart. “Can we go back to talking about how I almost touched Prince Charming?”

    Storm Prince, aka Prince Charming; tall and handsome with a sporty build. Flawless skin, medium blonde hair in some fancy windblown style, lovely shaped pink lips and the most beautiful hazel eyes I’ve ever seen on anyone. It’s really not a surprise that he’s shown up in a few fashion magazines, considering how his mother is a talented designer. If there is a hierarchy at this school (and face it, everyone knows there is), then he is definitely at the top of it.

    Too bad he’s at the top with that Dakota.

    Though Storm is in my class, I never actually talked to him before. Well, it’s not like we have a reason to talk anyway. Still, it’s nice to admire him from afar.

    Or, well, from across the classroom. It’s not really that far I guess. But those few feet apart feel like several continents, really.

    My reflection greets me when I open my locker, the slightly crooked mirror with a rather ugly cat frame greeting me on the inside of the door. I don’t really wear make-up or anything, and I’m kinda lanky, but I don’t really have a problem with my appearance. Straight light brown hair that goes a bit past my shoulders (let’s hope the slightly unevenness of it all isn’t too noticeable. Elena did a pretty good job of salvaging my hair after I trimmed it myself) and bangs that touch my eyebrows. Green eyes and pale skin, or rather, pallid? That’s how Logan always calls it. The oversized clothes hanging off of me used to bother me, but I got used to wearing these years ago. I’m pretty sure I’m a beauty symbol in some country. Just haven’t had to chance to visit it yet.

    “Mr. Robinson!” Looking up, the math teacher, Mrs Hailey, is sending an unhappy look our way. 

    “Uh-oh, what did you do, Logan?” I whisper.

    “Uh, nothing that should get me in trouble at this point in time,” He rubs the back of his neck and I can see parts of the spider web tattoo that is normally hidden under his hair, before he shrugs. “Guess I’ll see what it’s about,”

    “Good luck,” Elena and I say at the same time, watching him go.

    I don’t know about Elena, but I’m definitely imagining a death’s march.

    “Well! Let’s go to class and mourn him there!” Elena clasps her hands together with a smile, chipper as ever.

By the time we make it to class, there are already a few people inside, talking and laughing. As usual Elena and I go mostly ignored as we walk to our seats; near the door, at the front of the class.

    Even without meaning to, my ears pick up on some of the conversation from the other students,

    “These mid-semester seating charts are so pointless. Who’d really switch at this point?”

    “Maybe I don’t want to sit with you anymore this semester,”

    “Ha! As if! Why don’t you go and sit at the front with the losers, huh?”

    “Ew, don’t say those things. I might catch something if I sit there!”

    Yeah, like a personality. Imagine that, huh? It’s not like I don’t get what they mean though. Even if the teacher lets us switch our seats around today, I don’t think anyone will really sit anywhere else at this point.

    “Did you finish your homework, Alexis?”

    I turn in my seat to face Elena who is sitting behind me.

    “Somehow I made it. Barely though,”

    “I’m so surprised you find the time for it on top of everything else you do!” She rests her chin on her laced hands, dimples in her cheeks showing when she smiles.

    “Me too,” I laugh a bit “Well, hardship builds character, right?”

    Elena lets out a loud mixture of a giggle and a snort that draws a few disgusted looks and mocking eyerolls. Whatever. They wouldn’t know what fun was if it bit them in the- 

     “That’s right! You’ll definitely become a great woman when you grow up!”

    I widen my eyes in fake shock. “Only then? What about now?”

    Teasingly she holds her index finger and thumb slightly apart from each other, “Barely a bit,”

    The bell rings and the last people start coming into the classroom while I dig through my pencil case. The chair next to me moves and Elena lets out a few constipated sounds. Finally Logan was released from whatever Mrs Hailey had.

    “Hey do you have my pencil? The one with the cats on it,” I ask without looking up.

    Wait, why is the class so quiet...? Is Logan not wearing his pants, or something? I look up to see what’s wrong.

    For the record? Despite what anyone will tell you, upon seeing that Prince-freaking-Charming was sitting next to me, I most definitely did not choke on my spit and make an utter stuttering fool of myself. 

    Definitely didn’t happen.

    Nuh-uh.

    “U-Uhhh...”

    He stares at me with an amused smile on his lips. “No, I don’t think I have your pencil. But if you’d like, I can check to make sure,”

    “T-That’s okay,” I mumble out in an odd squeak, ducking my head, my ears burning.

    Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. What is going on? Is this a joke? The Prince has infiltrated Loserville. I repeat: The Prince has infiltrated Loserville.

    Why is he here!?

    Behind me, I don’t think Elena has properly regained the ability to breathe yet.

    “Hey Storm!”Someone calls. “What are you doing, man? Why are you sitting in Loserville?”

    That’s what Loserville would like to know, too!?

    “It’s a bit hard to see the blackboard from back there, I’m trying out the front for a bit,” Storm replies with a casual laugh and I think Elena swooned behind me.

    Some people get up from their seats, crowding closer to this corner. What is going on? Is this a form of harassment? Its harassment, isn’t it?

    His pearly whites show when he smiles at me. “Lucky for me there was a free space left at front so late into the lesson, huh?”

    “U-Uh...” Can’t compute. Alexis.exe has stopped working. Someone help!?

    Logan finally makes an appearance, rubbing the back of his neck when entering the classroom. I send him the most helpless look I can muster, probably one similar to a diseased chicken but hopefully the SOS I attempt to transmit with my eyes comes through loud and clear.

    He raises his eyebrows at the seating arrangement, stepping close. “Hey, you’re in my seat?” He seems just as unsure about why Storm is sitting with me.

    “Sorry, since we get to switch our seating around today I wanted a spot closer to the blackboard,” Storm’s smile is as dreamy as ever. “No hard feelings, right?”

    Logan opens his mouth, looking like he has a different opinion about that, but the teacher walks in at that point. “Robinson, find a seat. Class is starting,”

    Logan clamps his mouth shut, giving Storm a last baleful stare, before sitting behind him, next to Elena.

    I look back at him, eyes comically wide and no doubt looking like I’m about to keel over, but he shrugs in reply, mouthing a ‘What do you want me to do?’.

    I stifle my whimper before a pen suddenly appears in my vision. I blink owlishly at Storm, his smile not faltering. “If you can’t find your pen, I’ll let you borrow my spare one,”

    With a pained looking smile and an odd squeaky “Thanks” I take his pen weakly.

    What the heck is going on here...!?

#|| Story || Not Just Cinderella #Chapter #Romance #High School Story #Cinderella #Modern Cinderella