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useramor · 1 year

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fall out buck

talking to @soleadita about buck’s taste in music and i started to ramble about his top fob songs from his high school years in the replies, but it got too long so i’m making a proper post about it here! i’m a firm believer buck went through a mild edgy phase. he started high school in 2005, aka the year from under the cork tree by fall out boy was released, and i’m entirely convinced that album set the tone for the rest of buck’s high school years. so here, in my professional emo opinion, are buck’s favorite fall out boy songs.

this is only including songs from albums that would’ve released during his high school years, if anyone wants a part 2 with the other fob albums or even other artists lmk

(i’m working with buck being born in 1991 btw because we don’t have a strict timeline for that)

also i’m putting this under the cut because it got so very long, but if you’re curious and don’t feel like reading everything i had to say, here are the songs i chose:

- our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn’t get sued - i’ve got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your mouth (summer song) - 7 minutes in heaven (atavan halen) - XO - i’m a lawyer with the way i’m always trying to get you off (me & you) - the (after) life of the party - bang the doldrums - G.I.N.A.S.F.S. - disloyal order of water buffaloes - (coffee’s for closers) - what a catch, donnie - 27 - pavlove

(in order of release)

from under the cork tree (2005)

this album would’ve come out right as he was finishing middle school, so he went into his first year of high school with these songs already released. it was the (private) soundtrack to his summer (he was not about to get called gay by the other guys he was trying out for the football team with, thanks), you cannot convince me otherwise.

our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn’t get sued

first track baby opening song to the album!! i feel like, at fourteen in his small town in pennsylvania, he felt really edgy for liking this band. for liking more alternative music in general. and he liked having that sort of control over feeling like an outsider, because he’s felt a little off his whole life, but now he was choosing to be different.

lyric buck wrote on his arm in sharpie during math class:

I’ve got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your mouth (summer song)

i feel like this was his favorite track off this album. he listened to the lyrics for the first time and felt a little bit like someone carved his chest out.

lyrics that made him the most insane (all of them. this song is so buckcoded but i tried to narrow it down):

7 minutes in heaven (atavan halen)

this is definitely the song he most related to when he listened to this album again as he got a little older.

lyrics he used to skip over but that now make his chest feel tight:

(like come on lmao this is so buck coded it’s painful)

buck at fourteen just liked this song. his parents hated it, especially when margaret bothered to listen to the lyrics and realized exactly what the song was saying.

lyrics marge hated the most (and that, in turn, buck liked the best):

infinity on high (2007)

this album would’ve come out in the second semester of his sophomore year, for reference he’d be fifteen going on sixteen

i’m a lawyer with the way i’m always trying to get you off (me & you)

new album! i feel like this would be his first favorite song, and he’d have it on repeat for days until he got sick of it. the sexual innuendos meant more, too, now that he was a little older.

lyrics he sang to the point where he’d get kicked out of class for singing too much:

the (after) life of the party

he listened to the very first line of this song and related to it on a level he simply could not explain. also he belts the chorus in the shower to this day (eddie finds it endearing, even if buck’s terrible).

the first line in question:

bang the doldrums

i feel like this song, like 7 minutes in heaven, is one he liked more as he got older. at fifteen/sixteen he liked it, but at 18, 19, 20? i can just imagine buck went back to this song and listened to it so often even his roommates learned the words.

also it’s objectively hilarious that this song was originally written for shrek

lyrics:

G.I.N.A.S.F.S.

y’all get it. this was one of his favorites in high school. buck goes back to this song after eddie leaves the 118 and he’s with taylor.

these are the lyrics that would make him grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles would turn white:

(like come on lol. especially considering this song is literally titled gay is not a synonym for shitty it’s so stupidly fitting lmao)

folie a deux (2008)

this album came out his senior year of high school (he would’ve been seventeen)

disloyal order of water buffaloes

okay there’s a lot here but i think not just lyrically but sonically buck really loves this song! the quiet, organ intro that immediately jumps into a guitar and then loud, booming drums? come on, it’s so fun :) and i do think that buck relates to a lot of it lyrically as well. it became an instant fave the second the album started (literally, because this is the first track)

the lyrics i feel like he related to most at angsty seventeen:

(coffee’s for closers)

i don’t have anything particularly intelligent to put here, i just feel like this is the song he listened to when he would work out, just listen to the beat, to patrick’s vocals, and let any meaning of the lyrics fall away as he ran around his neighborhood. idk i just imagine him bopping to it on his ipod.

his favorite lyric:

watch a catch, donnie

this one is one of buck’s favorite fall out boy songs because he simply loves it. i feel like they’re a very personal band to him, i feel like he relates to a lot of lyrics and we know buck feels so much so deeply, that being able to just belt out to this song and listen to it and enjoy it without it cutting all too deeply is nice.

that being said, this lyric definitely hits home for him:

this was his PEAK #edgelord song. this song nearly convinced him he should start wearing guyliner. he played this song for a girl once and she hated it, but instead of seeking her approval he just turned the volume up louder and never spoke to her again. peak angsty, edgy, high school buck every time this song came on. he thought the lyrics were inspired. and the fact that this song is about the 27 club? he found that so creative. loser (affectionate).

also he loved to sing the guitar solo as loudly and obnoxiously as possible in the shower

his favorite lyrics:

pavlove

yes, he owned the deluxe version. obviously.

rolling with the fact that buck is seventeen going on eighteen here, and knowing he just gets more and more reckless as he got older, i feel like this captured some of his self destructive tendencies in a way that made him feel uncomfortably seen.

i could honestly put the whole song here, but especially this lyric:

(”i wanna make you as lonely as me” like that’s totally angsty teenage buck towards his parents)

anyway this is horrifically long. let me know if you want a part 2 :)

#holy shit this is SO long #fall out buck #evan buckley #evan buckley meta #i feel like buck liked emo bands bc maddie was a green day fan #like maddie was totally into ur girl groups but i feel like her guilty pleasure was green day #because yknow sometimes nsync doesn't get it #anyway that's it #buck with all his angst and self esteem issues and anger going to high school in 2005 and NOT being a punk rock fan #is unrealistic #thank you for your time

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aubreysheadspace · 1 year

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Hey, it’s 🧋/🌮 (whichever you chose) anon again. I somehow skipped over you asking not to ask for the whole cast, so I apologize for that.

Could you do Aubrey, Mari, and Basil for the first date hcs instead? Thank you!

AUBREY, MARI, BASIL FIRST DATE HEADCANONS

thanks for shortening the people you requested, i am WAY too exhausted right now so it helps a lot!! hope you enjoy, and i’ll just choose 🧋 since that’s the first emoji. welcome to the anon list, 🧋 anon! hope you enjoy!

AUBREY

a first date with AUBREY is surprisingly chill compared to the future dates the two of you will have later in your guys relationship. she wants it to go well of course.

she saved enough money for the two of you to just walk around the town and just hang out normally, but with the occasional hand holding.

sure, it’s not really ideal since you two do this regularly, but this time you both aren’t hanging out with the HOOLIGANS or her OTHER FRIENDS. maybe at the end of the date you two could stop by GINO’s PIZZA.

AUBREY isn’t one for fancy dates, more chill and casual ones are right up her alley. she WILL try harder for your next date, she just wanted to try out her first idea of a date.

MARI

MARI is the type of person to plan both inside and outside dates. outside dates of course include the iconic picnic she’s known for, while inside the two of you just simply hang out and watch some TV together.

for your guys first date, she decides to make it outside. and by to no one’s surprise.. it was a picnic! but instead, she had more food that was dedicated to you, like your favorite food.

of course she also brings a batch of her famously known cookies, because even if you aren’t a fan of cookies, and should be a fan of her cookies… unless you’re allergic to chocolate, then she wouldn’t bring it.

a first date with MARI is a complete success since it was just the two of you together having fun! it also had a calming peace to it. it’s MARI, after all! it’s like she could do no wrong!…

BASIL

just like with MARI, BASIL is also the type of person to plan either inside or outside dates. and guess which of the two have in common? …plants! yeah!!! plants, it really isn’t a surprise at this point.

sure, maybe you don’t like gardening or just don’t do it since it isn’t a hobby of yours, but it really makes him happy if you at least tried it with him!

of course, after the two of you plant something together, then you guys can do something YOU like. of course if you guys go somewhere that isn’t BASIL’s house, he’ll bring his camera to add to the photo album.

a first date with BASIL goes thankfully successful. he was very nervous at first and wanted everything to go well. this is shown since he nervously fidgets when something didn’t go his way during the date, but he learns to accept it.

#aubreysheadspace!~#aubreys writing!~#🧋 anon!~#omori x reader #omori #omori aubrey x reader #omori mari x reader #omori basil x reader #omori aubrey #omori mari #omori basil

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okwritingandpain · 7 months

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Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da: The Beatles x Reader

Chapter 22 (The Ringo Ending)

"Who first?" Paul asked, tapping the book.

She examined the book with wonder. Who did she want to see first? She was already standing in front of Paul, but George and John were the ones who would have been dead...what about Ringo? She had appreciated everything he had done for her. He was an awesome friend...

"Ringo?" Y/N asked, looking to Paul. He nodded.

"One second." Paul pulled out his phone and called someone that she assumed was Ringo. "Yeah, she chose to see you first." Paul said, giving her a smile. He then held the phone away from his ear as Ringo yelled into the phone. She couldn't make out any of the words, but he sounded excited. Paul chuckled, ending the call.

"What did he say?" She asked, her hands fidgeting. Paul smirked.

"He's painting right now. Go see him." Paul pointed to a nearby door. Now that Y/N thought about it, there were a lot more doors in the studio than there used to be. The door was an orange color and was decorated with drum sticks. She reached for the handle and walked inside. The room was covered in paintings and in the middle of the decently sized room was Ringo. He looked exactly like he did everytime she had seen him in the future.

"There you are, Y/N." He smiled, "I thought you were never coming back."

"It feels like I just saw you...just younger." She said. Ringo chuckled, setting his painting supplies down and washing his hands off with a damp towel. She held the book to her chest as he pulled up some chairs for them to sit in. Sitting down, she flipped the photo album open. Ringo smiled at the pictures. He then took the book and flipped to a particular page. He pointed at the title.

"Ringo's ring around the world for Y/N." He read, pointing at a picture of himself reading with Y/N.

"You made me a section of the photo album?" She asked, smiling at the pages of pictures that consisted of Ringo traveling around the world. In some of the pictures he was holding a photo of Y/N next to him. "Awe, Ringo..." She remarked. He chuckled and skipped a few pages, pointing to a photo of him and a cut out of Thomas the Tank Engine. Once again Ringo had a picture of Y/N in his hands.

"I took your picture to every place I traveled. It was as if you were traveling with me." He said, "I've got to admit that I missed you. You were such a great friend and well..." He trailed off, trying to distract her with a different picture.

"Well what?" She asked, smirking. Ringo blushed with embarrassment.

"I guess you became a fantasy...to all of us. Once you were gone, we tried to fill the void. Of course no one could replace you so we came up with our own ways to pretend you were still here. I chose to carry your picture around everywhere I went. I'm sure the others had their own ways, but I found that this was my way to cope." Ringo explained, "I guess I became engulfed in the fantasy. I started to like you differently...I started to love you." She looked at him surprised. Never in a million years had she expected Ringo Starr to say those words to her. He was the last of the Beatles she expected to hear that from. They never dated! They were just friends but maybe...

"Oh...wow. I..." She didn't know what to say, "I guess I'm surprised."

"Oh no. I shouldn't have told you that..." Ringo shoved the book towards her.

"No, no, no." She said, "I just never expected this. Don't push yourself away." Ringo avoided her eyes as he pretended to look for something. "Ringo..." She didn't know what to do. She was truly unprepared for this..

"Oh look! A small paint brush!" Ringo was trying to avoid the conversation. She looked around the room for a moment. She hoped something would help her. On one of the walls was her photograph and next to it was a record of Ringo's self titled album. Y/N finally knew what to do.

"Everytime I see your face." She began, turning to face him. "It reminds me of the places we used to go." He looked up at her with shock. Singing slowly, she felt the room change. Ringo looked younger again and they were standing in a blank room. "But all I've got is a photograph and I realize you're not coming back any more." Ringo looked around confused by his surroundings. He touched his face, showing a look that told her he knew that his appearance had changed.

"I thought I'd make it, the day you went away." Ringo joined, sitting next to her again.

"But I can't make it. 'Til you come home again to stay." She continued. "I can't get used to living here. While my heart is broke, my tears I cried for you."

"I want you here to have and hold. As the years go by and we grow old and grey." Ringo smiled, grabbing the book from her. He flipped to a page that showed the photo of her next to the "Ringo" album. They smiled at it.

"Now you're expecting me. To live without you. But that's not something, that I'm looking forward to. Every time I see your face. It reminds me of the places we used to go. But all I've got is a photograph and I realize you're not coming any more..." They finished, staring at the countless pictures of Ringo and her playing instruments and baking. They even found some rather old pictures of the two painting. She hadn't realized that the one day they did something just for fun would end up being something Ringo did later on in his life.

"I wish you would've been there to see this all." He said. She chuckled to herself thinking about old she would be now if she had stayed.

"As much as I would love to have seen this all I'd rather have simply time traveled to live a bit farther into the future." She joked. Ringo thought for a moment.

"Maybe I should have time traveled." He laughed, "Then I could've stayed younger longer and I would have been with you longer."

"That's true, but I think we both know that it would have taken you a long time to get used to all this."

"I still don't understand it all." He laughed, closing the book. "I wonder why everything looks like this and I look so..."

"Young?" Y/N teased. Ringo nodded reluctantly. "Maybe it's telling us to hold on to being young for a little bit."

"I guess that could be it." He rested his head on his hand. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

"Well, you have a very blank canvas." She smirked. A large smile grew on his face.

"Did I ever tell you that you are a genius?" He asked, standing up and retrieving his supplies.

"No, but I would love if you said it again." She replied. Once the paints were retrieved, they began to paint the walls of the studio again. Y/N and Ringo laughed as they ran around the room painting random places with whatever came to mind. They chased each other until they decided to get serious and actually draw something decent. It was relaxing and fun, especially with Ringo. At one point he turned to Y/N, looking a bit nervous. Seeing him so young felt so familiar, but yet a little uncanny after she had seen him older.

"Thank you for all this." He said with a warm smile.

"Thank you." She said in return, going over and hugging him. Their hands covered in paint and clothes now also, they decided that things were different now. They both exited the hug, but not before giving each other a kiss. It was strange for sure, but relieving. Ringo looked as shocked as ever as he stared at her.

"That was definitely..."

"Strange?"

"Exactly."

"But it was welcoming." She said, giving him another hug. "Who knows what is to come now." He nodded, staring at the painting they had made. It was a picture of Thomas the Tank Engine with Y/N and Ringo sitting in front of it.

"The beginning of the next chapter." Ringo said as they stood in silence.

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

Okay, I wrote the photograph thing before I remembered the song! I was like "Wait! It works!" which made me so happy lol. Anyways, this is the first ending for you all! I hope you enjoyed it! I think the next one will be George.

#paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #john lennon #john lennon x reader #ringo starkey #ringo starkey x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #the beatles #beatles fic #fanfic #beatles fanfiction #beatles fandom #time travel #cross posted on ao3 #wattpad

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magnoliacharmed · 2 years

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Chapter 2 - Torrential Rain

[Also available on Archive of our Own!]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4

Summary:

Tensions come to a head after you face Sting in the squared circle.

(Author’s note: 18+! There’s some smut in this chapter.)

Early November 1996

You were starting to think your complaints were going unheard. Actually, you knew they were going unheard. No matter how many times you went to Bischoff to request that your shorts were just a little bit longer, they seemed to be getting shorter. He'd counter with some sweet talk and a promise that you'd get more airtime on the next show. Even when you asked Kevin to advocate on your behalf it seemed like nothing was getting done. If he couldn't convince Bischoff then maybe it just wasn't possible. Or it wasn't important enough.

Since Sting's last appearance before he went mute (Stupid, you thought), you'd been left in the cold by WCW. At least that's how it felt. If you weren't being trotted out to make a lame sexually charged pun, you were instead being left behind backstage. You had to start rationalizing why you were being treated like this. Maybe Bischoff didn't want you to get oversaturated with the audience? Or he wanted to retool your gimmick? The hope that sprang from these ideas truly was eternal. It was also naive and foolish. You knew that there was a strong chance you'd get let go soon enough. In your heart you were aware that this wouldn't be a long term career for you. Just as soon as you had started getting used to it all it was seemingly coming to end.

The foamy material on your headphones squished your ears. You'd have to fix your hair again but it was worth it to be able to take your mind off things. The music from your CD player played steadily while you did your makeup. One investment you had to make since becoming a wrestler was a decent portable vanity mirror. You sat criss crossed on the cold backstage floor, hiding in a hallway away from the screams and other wrestlers. You were sulking. It wasn't anyone else's burden to deal with so you decided to be alone for the time being. The routine of applying your makeup always calmed you down. TV makeup was more intricate and layered. Having to put on so much of it gave you a lot of time to think.

Your fingers clenched the other fake eyelash together. The glue hadn't turned that clearish pearlescent blue yet that signified it was ready to apply. The cold of the smooth, white brick wall behind you cooled your scalp down as you rested your head against it. Idly waving the lash around, the glue finally began to set. Your eye makeup was more elaborate tonight so the application had to be perfect. There was no more time to take it all off and redo it if you messed this up.

Leaning into the battery powered lights of the mirror, you pushed the fluttery lash right on your watering lash line. It'd been a few hours since you'd had a drink and it had made you a little shaky. You were surprised you'd even managed to show up considering how hard you'd gone the night before. Kevin had to carry you out of the bar while you tried to reach over his shoulder to slap a woman who you'd gotten into an argument with. Luckily he thought the situation was funny instead of a nuisance. You could count on Kevin to be on your side.

With a few hard blinks you stared at yourself in the mirror. Pretty as always. A little emptier than usual. But still pretty. The lashes fanned away the quickly building tears that prickled at your eyes. The album you were listening to was on its last song, some sad ballad that you usually chose to skip. You let it play out this time with a sigh.

That looming shadow feeling came over you again, this time doubly so. It made your brain buzz like a siren had just gone off. You snatched the crappy headphones off in a frenzy and looked up and up and up... An annoyed relief washed over you that was then followed up by embarrassment.

"Kev! Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"You're too damn big to be popping up silently next to people."

"What's anyone gonna do about it? Kick my ass?"

"They might not kick your ass but I will." You laughed and shook your hair out.

"She could do it too." Kevin turned to Sting. You'd never really seen him this close up before. Unfortunately you had to admit to yourself that the new face paint was cool. Only a little bit though. And not because he made it cool! But because it was from a movie you liked. He didn't seem to be too interested in the banter. I wonder how far the stick is up his ass tonight.

The wetness of your eyes sparkled up at him under the bright fluorescents. Your lashes made your eyelids heavy causing you to blink slower than usual. You hoped it didn't come off flirtatious. Your pupils pinpointed on his, daring him to break the contact. He raised an eyebrow slightly at you. Sting had seen you around the last few months. He didn't have much of an opinion of you. You were a party animal and a shit talker, something he already had covered on his own. You, the members of nWo, and Sting had ended up in a game of Telephone. They'd tell you a story about him, they'd tell him a story about you. Details would get lost in translation. Both of you ended up having lower opinions of each other after the fact. Kevin, despite liking you both, never felt the need to clear up the confusion. He knew that nWo could act like a group of rowdy teenagers more often than not, something that didn't rub Sting the right way.

Raising up off of the ground, you kept your eyes on Sting. You were a whole head shorter than him. The muscles in your neck were screaming at you to stop but you had a point to prove. Now that he'd gotten dragged into this staring contest, he had something to prove too. Without thinking he moved a step closer to you. His breath huffed out from his nose and his eyes lit up. As weird as this was, it was also kind of funny. What were you trying to show him, how threatening you were? There was nothing scary about you. The makeup around your eyes made them stand out from under the lashes. The both of you became arrested by each other's gaze. The mutual dislike was immediate and palpable.

The two of you forgot Kevin was even there. He stood with his hands crossed in front of his chest. His own gaze shifted from you back to Sting. Kevin cleared his throat and smiled knowingly.

With a look at you, Kevin gestured towards Sting. "This is Steve-- Sting. I'm assuming this is the first time you two have met?"

Sting blinked once very deliberately. He didn't need this petty contest to prove anything about himself. Especially to you.

"Yeah. Nice to meet you." He tried his hardest to make the words come out with no edge to them.

"Nice to meet you, too. I like your makeup. Very unique." Your voice dripped with sarcasm. There was just about this man that pissed you off beyond belief.

His eyes roamed up your body slowly. The white face paint creased by his nose. She has great legs, Sting thought to himself. Images of planting kisses up your legs flashed in his mind. Leaving black lipstick marks all around you so the whole world knew who you belonged to was now a thought he couldn't shake. Even if you were being pretty rude at the moment he couldn't help but to start getting hard. Your attitude, as off putting as it was, was getting him going.

"I've been watching you before I walk out to the ring. I'm not sure why you even bother wearing anything out there. You know the crowd isn't a fan of you because of your talent, right?"

Ouch, Kevin thought. He'd forgotten that Sting could get kind of mean sometimes. Kevin knew that you were feeling sensitive about your recent positioning in the company. It didn't help that you also despised how much attention Sting got. Sting himself had gotten a little miffed that you were so over with the crowd even though you didn't do anything. Your smile and slick mouth were enough for people. You knew you were talented, just not in the traditional ways.

"Hm, you're not as nice of a guy as everyone says you are." You swung your head around to Kevin. His eyes were investigating the ceiling. "Ooh, we're all so scared of Surfer Sting! Look, everyone already saw The Crow. We didn't need to see it again." Before he could speak up you walked away from the two men.

"Kev! We're on soon, let's go."

---

Somehow you'd managed to get a hold of a half drunk bottle of whiskey right before walking out to the mat. It was just what you needed after such a weird last few hours. Emotionally you were a little bit of a wreck. Feelings of inadequacy engulfed your entire being. You were just supposed to be sexy. Not interesting or funny or scary, either. Just sexy. The fact that you happened to have some personality wasn't even considered a bonus. The worst part about it was that you contributed to it. Why would Bischoff take you seriously about your gear when you provocatively readjusted it live on camera? Obviously you didn't really have any agency over your look and who you were since you kept doing what everyone told you to.

The liquor was not helping your frazzled state of mind. The cheers whited out the negative thought loop once again. You looked up and down into the camera to silently judge everyone watching at home. Playing an asshole was a lot of fun. After entering the ring with the rest of nWo, you stood off to the side of Kevin while Hulk Hogan spoke into the mic. You admired how good he was at hyping up the crowd. After a couple minutes of speaking, the audience started to jump out of their seats and look towards the ramp.

Sting walked out briskly, bat in hand and a stoic look plastered on his face. He was anything but stoic on the inside. He couldn't figure out if he felt bad or not about what he'd said to you. When you walked away, Kevin tried to explain why you might have been hurt by his comment but was interrupted when you called out for him. You were more sensitive than Sting thought. Your actual persona seemed so intertwined with your kayfabe one that he got thrown off when tears built up at the corners of your eyes. Then you retorted back at him and all sympathy flew out of the window. Smart mouthed for no reason, just like the rest of the group.

Sting stood before the group. Hogan continued to talk with Sting not saying a word back to him. Sting's bat suddenly raised up to point towards you. Ugh, of course. Your eyes rolled exaggeratedly in your head. His own eyes widened at you while he moved the bat down to tap a few times at your upper thigh. The audience came together for an "Ooohh," chant like a classroom of kids when someone got in trouble. Kevin pushed you forward to the center of the stage as if you were an offering. A fire began to burn at the base of your neck.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. The tight low-cut shirt you wore with nWo's logo on it was clingier than normal. Sting kept his eyes on your face as the bat was placed on your right shoulder as if you were being knighted. Something about the whole thing felt very suggestive. You figured you might as well give the crowd a show by turning your head to look at the bat, then back to Sting. Just as you were about to step forward to him, he placed the tip of the bat right on your cleavage. It rested there comfortably between the soft flesh of you. Sting almost smirked at you but managed to keep his composure. The ooohhs got even louder around you. Kevin closed his eyes for just a second as the rest of nWo looked around at each other.

Your tits engulfed the bat even further as you began to move around it. With a move no one expected, especially not Sting, you grabbed halfway up the bat and pulled forward with as much strength as you could muster. The edge of the bat popped out of your collar and threatened to pull your shirt down. Your so-close-to-being-exposed breasts made the flash bulbs around the arena pop on like Christmas lights. Thank God Kevin never let you come up with excuses for not going to the gym. The hard work you put in was really paying off. Sting tightened his grip on the other end of the bat as he stumbled forward a few steps, his thick brown hair falling around his face. nWo took advantage of his temporary disorientation by attempting to jump him. The audience was tearing the roof of the arena now with chants of your name echoing around you.

Reveling in the chants of the people was short lived. A large concession stand cup of cola was hurled at the back of your head. You felt like you been dunked under water. The sticky sweetness of the soda completely ruined your hair. It dripped down off the ends of it and onto your chest causing more flash bulbs to pop and the cameraman to zoom in on you. You jumped out of the ring and watched the rest of the match with enthusiasm. You were damp. Sticky. Embarrassed. Empowered. You were going to chalk this up as a win. You managed to make Sting look like a fool. Not so scary now, huh?

Sting escaped from out of the nWo's beatdown and left the ring. He pointed his bat with a sweeping motion at all of you, then directly aimed it at you.

---

nWo crowded around you backstage. Scott praised you pulling the bat away from Sting. Your face lit up at the compliments they let wash over you. After that stunt there was no way you wouldn't get pushed more. Bischoff appeared to clamp his hand down on your shoulder and give you a thumbs up.

"Now that was good TV. And I'm not just talking about your tits." You all laughed at this although you laughed less enthusiastically than the rest of them. He leaned into your ear, soda still dripping onto your shirt. "We'll get you a longer pair of shorts. Not too long, though." Finally! All it took to be heard was some light humiliation.

You were riding on a high as you collected your things in your duffle bag for the night. You finally felt content enough to enjoy your own presence for the night instead of going out to another bar or club. You were still going to stop off and grab a bottle of champagne for yourself, though. But at least you felt confident enough to drink it and dance alone to music in your hotel room. You might even order something fancy and expensive from the room service menu. Your fingers rifled through your makeup bag to double check you had everything. Your mascara was missing, most likely left over in the hallway you'd been applying your makeup.

You approached the spot you had been sitting in earlier and saw the metallic gold tube right where you'd left it. Bending over to grab it up the shadow was present again. It felt… angry. This wasn't Kevin playing a joke on you.

Sting was standing before you. He looked pissed. Entirely more pissed than you thought he had any right to be. Sweat had made his face paint smudge around his face weirdly. It was more ominous looking than when it was freshly done. He got in your face the same way he did earlier. His lean into you was so close that the tip of his nose was close to touching yours. Your heart rate had quickened up while Sting's own heart pounded away in his chest at being that close to you.

"Don't ever pull anything like that on me again."

"Must be hard not being the center of attention every minute of the day, huh?" Your voice was breathless. You got mad at yourself for not having as much strength in it as you would've liked. "I can see that really bothers you."

Sting's eyes jumped from your irises to your lips. He'd noticed that you had what he could only describe as a permanent pout. The way your lips poked out at him made him have to readjust his singlet.

"What's the matter? Are you a fan of my talent too?" Your fingers hooked under the seat of your shorts and pulled them up on you. It was another win when his eyes flickered down to watch you. Bischoff had chosen the tightest pair of shorts in the world just for you and what a blessing it was. He'd have to buy the man a big Christmas present for that decision. Looking at the state of your hair made his face hot.

"I'm sure this isn't the first time you've been all covered in something sticky like this. I'm wondering-- was it Bischoff or Nash you sucked off to get into WCW?" It was a low blow and Sting knew it but you deserved it.

Your fingers clenched into fists and stretched out again, over and over.

"Oh, Sting. I must drive you insane. Here you are getting all bothered over little ol' me. Doesn't seem very becoming of the company's top star!"

You moved in by his ear. The strands of his hair that brushed on your cheek were a lot softer than you expected.

"You can think I'm a slut as much as you want to, honey. But this slut is getting over on the very same fans you need. All just by being me. No paint. No gimmick."

"I think I figured out why you don't like me--"

"Yeah? Why is that?" You said in a rushed whisper, pressing him on.

"You don't like me because you're mad you couldn't do this without being in a group. You're jealous." His words came out like a hiss, shooting out like lightning down to your core and making heat build below.

"You'll never be like me. You'll never be on top unless you fuck your way up there."

"You keep bringing that up. You must be the one who wants to make that proposition. Is that it, I'm a whore but the whore who won't fuck you? Keep dreaming." You smiled by his ear. The urge to kiss his neck was prodding at you.

"I'm tired of you and that annoying mouth of yours. Like I said, don't do that shit again. You think I'm mad now? You'll really see if you pull another stunt like that."

The air by you was open again as Sting walked off. He was more upset by how turned on you made him than the bat grab. If anything, you grabbing the bat was quick thinking. If you all planned it beforehand it might have led to an interesting story. The fact that you did it with no warning was what had gotten him angry in the first place. You're weren't the creative mind in the group. You didn't have the juice at the company to improv like that. For the rest of the night everyone stayed away from him as he gathered up his stuff and removed the rest of his makeup.

---

The night called for something harder than a bottle of champagne. You spent more time looking through the liquor aisle at the convenience store than normal. Continuing from earlier you decided to stick with a bottle of whiskey. Your hands twitched as you counted out bills to pay the cashier with, the bottle shimmering under the fluorescent lights like a prize. The lobby workers at the hotel looked at you strangely when you walked in. Remembering that soda was still dripping from your hair, you hurried up to your room for a well needed shower. Stripping off the tight, damp clothes felt like heaven. The hot shower water was great too. You'd brought the bottle in with you to get the party started. Feeling began to return to you after the thorough scalp massage and scrub down you'd given yourself.

Your naked body flopped down onto the plush king size comforter. The steam from the shower and liquor you consumed (on an empty stomach, no less) was making your head swirl. Thoughts of Sting began to bounce in. You were right, he was a jerk. He was arrogant and insecure at the same time. How could a guy like that, a guy that even you had to admit was a good wrestler, be such an asshole about it?

On the other hand, something else about him made you want to jump him after the whole fiasco. You grabbed up a fluffy pillow and screamed into it. The way he got in your face and didn't mince his words turned you on something serious. You were the reason he was so upset! He couldn't stop bringing up sex, too. Despite how much he disliked you and at this point probably hated you, he still wanted to be inside you.

At a hotel room across town, Sting himself had the same thoughts you were having. You were a bitch. A smart one. That was incredibly irritating. He shifted around in bed and closed his eyes to run away from thoughts of you.

Your face, pre-soda drenching, appeared before him in a fog. Your plush lips were mumbling incoherently. The big fake eyelashes on your face moved in slow motion. Your eyes then closed and you took a deep breath that turned into a moan.

"Sting," Fantasy you whispered. "I need you. Please," Your voice was watery as it begged for him.

Sting took himself in his hand and began to stroke. The fantasy was so vivid it was uncomfortable. He thought if he reached out now he could feel the heat of you by him.

The image of his hands caressing your waist and down to your hips was too real.

In your own room, your fingers rubbed along the wetness of your folds and up to your clit. Your breathing was labored and huffing. Your own fantasy was of you bent over Sting's lap, chattering about nothing. His hand came down on the smooth flesh of your ass with a loud slap. You continued to talk away at him, daring him to slap even harder. Your orgasm was approaching you more rapidly than expected.

Sting's strokes were frantic now. He had pulled down your shirt and started to leave black kisses across your full tits. The same tits you loved showing off to the world in tiny shirts were now covered in hickeys and dark smudges. Your fingers gripped in his hair as you pushed his face farther into your chest and moaned his name.

Fantasy Sting was rubbing you through the seat of your shorts. He slipped a finger under the stretchy fabric to rub it right along the entrance of you. Whenever you squirmed he smacked your ass again. Your middle finger swirled around your clit.

"Fuck," both of you cried out at the same time. You gushed all over the comforter and Sting bucked into his hand, come getting everywhere.

"Fuck!" You both said again. Sting's laugh at you echoed in your head the same way yours did in his.

#sting #sting wcw #steve borden #sting fanfic #sting x reader #kevin nash #wcw #world championship wrestling #wcw fic #wcw fanfic #wrestling fic #wrestling fanfic #wrestling #magnoliafanfic

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sevencoloredstar · 5 months

Text

Every month of 2023

i was tagged by both @woozification and @irlvernon thank you so much for tagging me 💕💕💕💕💕💕thank you for your patience too

rules: link your favorite and/or most popular post from each month this year (totally fine to skip months) and tag some CCs you love!

JANUARY most popular: top 5 stray kids songs (150 notes) i'd love to do more parts of this because there's so much more i wanted to add favorite: Jin & Jimin based on fanfics by meirkive. FEBRUARY most popular:j-hope | Jack in the Box in his own words (632 notes) I love all the aspects that he put in his album an how much it means favorite: Taehyung + “Why don’t you stay?“ Taehyung and the lyrics of the song, I tried to choose scenes where he resemble the feeling of the lyrics MARCH most popular and favorite: Dokyeom's verses (277 notes) the set that took me most time and work to do! a tribute to DK voice 😻 APRIL most popular and favorite: Jimin, Like crazy (308 notes) the first time i got a request, i liked doing it :) MAY most popular: rap line - permission to dance (368 notes) the first time trying this kind of gifs, i really liked it because this shoot had so many colors and sets 💟 favorites: JEONGHAN Don't wanna cry, JONGHYUN astrology placements and his lyrics really love the colors for Jeonghan in the mv, i love all about the video but specially him, i tried to do a more natural translation of his verse, and i used the past gif style along with layouts. For the Jonghyun set I really wanted to do tribute to his songwriting, I know all of his soul and heart are in his lyrics JUNE most popular and favorite: performance unit: how their dance feels (161 notes) I really loved that poem since i read it, and then I thought about them and what they communicate through dance, but more than that how they do it JULY most popular and favorite: Favorite song releases (67 notes) I really loved chosing each song and the scenes and typography for each one AUGUST most popular and favorite: TAEMIN think of you (239 notes) I really love this video and making something about it SEPTEMBER most popular and favorite: Dokyeom Xcalibur (283 notes) i just love him so much. I love his acting here, the good spirit and so positive aspects he give to Arthur, but also so much darkness, and the fact the he express everything singing too, is juts magical OCTOBER most popular and favorite: Dokyeom | Seventeenth Heaven (90 notes) love all the highlights medly and finally could do something with one of them NOVEMBER most popular: Jonghyun, The celebrity magazine (357 notes) one of my favorite shoots of him and I think of many other shawol too favorites: Seungkwan, fear choreography DK Hitori Janai DECEMBER most popular and favorite: Seventeen talking through dance I dreamed so much of this set, I'm happy I finally could do it

#tag games #emily💜#max🖤

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lazysublimeengineer · 1 year

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awake with your memory over me

Summary: That's a real fucking legacy to leave.

Or Takemichi and Mikey saw each other again after several years after the war between the Kantou Manji Gang & the 2nd generation of Toman. No time leaping has happened. AU.

Characters: Manjiro "Mikey" Sano, Hanagaki "Takemitchy" Takemichi, Chifuyu Matsuno & Senju Kawaragi

(A/N: Dedicated to @tinachan. Thank you for the continuous supports to my works and here is your request. Hoping that you’ll enjoy it as much as I did when writing it. Also, for the other readers, please mind the tags and rating of the story. Explicit sexual content ahead so read at your own risk. This is an AU fic meaning to say that there’s no timeleaping involve here and Takemichi continued to stay in the Kantou Manji timeline. Additionally, Takemichi and Hina didn’t get back together ever since they broke up in the BD arc. This one shot was also inspired by the song, “Maroon” from the Midnights album of Taylor Swift. Lastly, I don’t own anything from this franchise. Respective ownership belongs to Ken Wakui for this wonderful manga and Taylor Swift for this bittersweet yet memorable track).

When the morning came we

Were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf

Cause we lost track of time again

Laughing with my feet in your lap

Like you were my closest friend

How’d we end up on the floor anyway?

You say, “Your roommate’s cheap-ass screw-top rosé,” that’s how

I see you every day now

The bright rays of the sun came beaming at him when he got out of the juvenile prison.

He automatically raised his left arm on his face as if to shield himself from the scorching heat of the sun as his other hand carried the duffel bag tightly on his grasp.

An audible sigh left his lips as he put his arm away and watched the surroundings in front of him.

12 years had passed.

But it felt like an eternity to Manjiro Sano.

The cold, grey walls and the iron bars on his cell were his mere companions and witnesses to the misery and anguish that he felt and endured every day and night.

He shook his head faintly and drove away those thoughts before it could wander again to the familiar presence that always haunted his mind and made his heart screamed out for his touch and smiles.

Mikey should keep going now.

No one was waiting to pick him up anyway.

And I chose you

The one I was dancin’ with in New York

No shoes, looked up

At the sky and it was

The familiar chime of the bell made his head looked up.

“Stop skipping lunch partner.” Chifuyu’s familiar admonishing voice washed over him and a small smile tugged on his lips.

“Just a sec. I’m almost done with the inventory Chifuyu.” Takemichi replied with an apologetic look on his face which made Chifuyu sighed lightly.

“Is he not done yet?” Senju’s familiar voice droned out as she entered the shop with the bell chiming in once again on the front door.

“Well, see for yourself.” Chifuyu raised his arms in defeat as he sat in one of the available chairs inside.

“You should eat on time y’know? That’s what the doctor told you know when you’re signed out from the hospital.” Senju sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, I am going to eat my lunch on time. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be finish soon.” Takemichi tried to give her a reassuring smile.

Senju sent a silent look to Chifuyu’s direction to which the other held a defeated look on his face and shook his head faintly.

“Well, it better be partner. We don’t want to lose an available spot again on the diner because of the influx of the customers later.” Chifuyu drawled out to which a hummed of assent only left Takemichi’s lips as a response.

“We’ll be waiting for you outside Hanagaki.” Senju added and she motioned for Chifuyu to follow her outside to which they left Takemichi on his own again in the shop.

Takemichi should be used to it by now.

But for some unknown reason a certain mitigated feeling surrounded his chest as each day passed by.

He ignored the feeling and focused on what he was doing.

It’s useless to be dwelling on a wishful thinking anyway.

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed the wine onto me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was

The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

His faint shadow was outlined on the ground as he stopped in front of his house.

Mikey stared at the wooden gate for a few seconds before he took out his keys and inserted it inside the keyhole and finally opened it.

His eyes wandered on the surroundings as his gaze swept up on the sight that greeted him.

Nothing much had changed except for the slight cobwebs that formed on the sides signaling that a cleanup should start soon to get rid of the dust and dirt that accumulated when no one was looking out for his abode while he was away in prison.

His gaze strayed on the other side of the place and landed on a familiar place of the house which brought a certain ache inside his heart.

A spot where Mikey, Emma, Draken and sometimes Takemichi used to hang out with after school or if there were no gang activities that they need to do for that day.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as the cheerful smiles, playful laughter and the ocean irises permeated his senses. His pace quickened, ignoring whatever noises or memories that had risen from the consciousness of his mind.

He needed to get his shit together.

And the only way to do so was to focus on getting back on track and drowned himself to whatever work that he needed to do to straighten out his life and reorient himself back to the society once again.

He blatantly ignored the way his heart was whispering to him to visit Takemichi.

Even though the pang inside his heart grew wider, he chose to ignore it for the next incoming weeks.

He didn’t need to bother the other’s life which was now peaceful and tranquil.

Not when he repeatedly hurt him previously and shattered his heart into tiny, little pieces.

Takemichi deserved better anyway.

When the silence came we

Were shaking blind and hazy

How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

Sobbin’ with your head in your hands

Ain’t that the way shit always ends?

You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway

Carnations you had thought were roses, that’s us

I feel you no matter what, the rubies that I gave up

Mikey waved goodbye to the children who were now leaving his dojo.

Several weeks had now passed after he had opened the dojo of his late grandfather and continued running it under his hands.

He was slowly integrating back into the society and the daily routine of his life even though he experienced some difficulties at first as he previously became used to the daily lifestyle inside the prison wherein the guards or police officers where just calling or announcing their daily tasks and they had mindlessly followed it. Then he’d go to his scheduled checkups with his designated counsellor inside the cell.

But right now, this was his new life. His new freedom.

And he had to do things alone. Literally.

He had to stop himself from thinking about Emma or his late older brother to take care of the menial tasks around the house every day.

The cleaning, cooking and the household chores now fell solely on him.

There was a small part of him that was thankful for the change as it distracted his mind from wandering aimlessly to some of the memories that he chose not to dwell in.

Nevertheless, his heart was a traitorous part of himself.

It was stubborn. Determined. And sometimes a foolish organ.

Just like himself.

This should be one of those days where Mikey would treat this day as an ordinary, sunny day melting off from the vestiges of his calendar.

But it isn’t as soon as he decided to leave his house and headed inside the store to see those familiar royal blue eyes that continued to haunt him every day and night.

When I lost you

The one I was dancin’ with in New York

No shoes, looked up

At the sky and it was maroon

“Good afternoon welcome to—.” Takemichi stopped midway and his voice died down upon spotting the familiar face that he never thought would see again.

Those flaxen locks which were now shorter and dyed in jet black.

The once youthful face had now matured with a sharp angle of lines marring on his face that leant him a full-grown look of an adult that haunted him in those previous timelines.

And those eyes…

…those pair of midnight irises that continued to linger on his memories surreptitiously.

Of how he missed those piercing gaze on his frame like he was the only person that mattered to him the most.

Takemichi wanted to cry, yell, or even speak but he found his voice unable to come out as he could only stared mutely at the figure in front of him.

“Hello Takemitchy.”

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed the wine onto me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was

The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

Takemichi balled his fists to his side as he remained rooted to the spot.

“What are you doing here?” He found himself asking and Takemichi wanted to slap himself for letting those words to slip out from his lips the first time he saw him again.

That’s not what he wanted to say nor ask.

But at the same the simple question was burning at the tip of his tongue.

He remembered the time when he was rushed into the hospital on the brink of his own death after that fateful night of being stabbed by Mikey under the illusion of his own dark impulses.

With Sanzu’s sword impaling him deeply, the only logical consequence for him was dying in that very moment.

Nevertheless, like some unknown joke or an opportunity provided to him by the universe again, he found himself waking up in a hospital bed and staring blearily at the ceiling.

It was all a blur to him but he could make out Chifuyu’s crying face beside him, the doctors and the nurses monitoring his vital signs and the rest of the Toman visiting him quite often since then.

Takemichi gave a wobbly smile that day and asked weakly where Mikey was to which all of them fell silent and some of them looked away from him.

It felt like a déjà vu to him back in the reception hall of Pah Chin’s wedding in the future.

He was expecting another lie again to protect his torn mentality and weary soul from all the bloodshed and misery he went through with them for saving Mikey.

Not until…

Chifuyu admitted that Mikey was arrested by the police and was put into the juvenile prison.

For 12 years.

The verdict was that he’s gonna stay there for 12 years.

Takemichi’s heart was torn to pieces a long time ago and he thought that nothing could ever probably break it.

But hearing those words from Chifuyu made it hard for him to breathe as if his own heart was splintering harshly everywhere.

However, it was unavoidable.

Seeing the crimes, he committed.

It was only a matter of time before he eventually ended up in the same fate as Kazutora.

After being confined in the hospital for quite some time and being discharged, the first thing he did was to visit Mikey in the prison.

But the other refused to meet him.

Not even getting a glimpse of him.

But it didn’t deter him at first. And he continued to visit him and failed to see him every time.

Until Chifuyu almost pleaded at him to stop doing it. His best friend was still worried about the rejection he experienced every time he went out of the visitor’s hall with a lukewarm smile on his face and serenely downcast eyes that almost made his best friend’s heart went out for him.

It was a wakeup call to him.

An event that he needed to realize that he needed to move on and pick up the pieces of his life together.

Without Mikey by his side.

At first it hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. But if it’s the price that he needed to pay for grappling and meddling with timelines just to save him, he’ll endure it. Even if he can feel his heart was being ripped out from his chest at every rejection he experienced every time he tried to visit him.

So, now when he was starting to finally move on from him…Mikey decided to waltz again back into his life like it was nothing.

Was a this a cruel joke from fate that he needed to experience and endure once again?

“I… I wanted to see you Takemitchy…” Mikey’s soft yet hesitant voice cut off his derailing thoughts and Takemichi couldn’t help but to laugh bitterly on it, his sight was getting blurry and eyes were stinging but he refused to let out his tears this time.

He cried so much for him already that it felt wrong to shed tears for him once again.

“That’s funny Mikey-kun because that’s not how you made me feel back then to those times where I visited you in prison.” Takemichi wanted to punch himself for letting the hurt bleed into his words where he wanted to mock him instead.

“Takemitchy…” Mikey started off in an uncharacteristic mellow voice that he couldn’t help but to glance up at him and tried not to catch his breath at the expression he was making. His eyes were serenely downcast and a sad smile was painted on his lips.

“It wasn’t my intention to make you feel that way… I thought that by pushing you away Takemitchy I’m doing you a favor and atoning for the sins that I’ve caused in every timeline which always ended up being terrible because of me. But I guess I didn’t learn any better huh? The things that I’ve been doing to make them right were making things worst… I’ve hurt you time and time again even if I didn’t mean to… But that’s no excuse Takemitchy for being a fucking terrible person to you…” His voice cracked at the end.

“And why are you here now?” Takemichi asked shakily.

“I’m here because I still love you… And I wanted to see you… That no matter how many times I can lie to myself that I should leave you be and this is for the best, my heart won’t shut up about you. I’m sorry for everything… I know it’s too late and this won’t amount to anything for the fucking misery that I’ve caused but I just want you to know I’m still in love with you and there can be nobody else that would make me feel the way you make me felt towards you. But… But… I’ll understand if you don’t want anything to do with me. You’re not obligated to—.”

Mikey stopped midsentence and his eyes widened for a fraction of second as Takemichi suddenly stormed into his spot and pounded his fists into his chest, his head dropping down on his left shoulder.

“Damn you to hell Mikey-kun…! How dare you come back and say that to me! Just as I was… As I was…. Slowly moving on from you then you came storming into my life again unexpectedly…!” A small sob tore out from Takemichi’s lips as tears finally came crashing down from his eyes like a waterfall, wetting the sleeve of Mikey’s shirt.

“T-takemitchy…” Mikey was taken aback but only for awhile before his eyes softened and one of his hands reached up to card through his locks gently.

“I’m still an idiot because… because… the feeling is mutual Mikey-kun. I can’t fall in love with somebody else if it’s not you. I’m a fucking moron but I… I… I wanna take a gamble again with you because I know that you’re worth it…” Takemichi whispered faintly, small hiccups slipping past his lips.

“Guess we’re both idiots then Takemitchy.” Mikey chuckled softly, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. “But I’m your idiot though. And you’re the one who can only hold my heart until the day I die.” He added before he gently pulled away and tilted Takemichi’s face to reveal that familiar crying face of his and those deep blue eyes that he can drown himself in.

His thumb reached out to gently caressed his cheek and wiped away the tears from his face before he slowly leaned down and remove any remaining gap between the two of them and captured his lips in a kiss that’s been waiting for them in a lifetime.

Awake with your memory over me

That’s a real fucking legacy that you see (It was maroon)

Awake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

Upon feeling the other’s lips against his own, an electrifying sensation shot down through his veins making his body sizzled out in scintillating sensation.

He always just dreamed of it. Those sleepless nights wondering what it would feel like to be enveloped in his awaiting arms once again and to feel his warmth embrace engulfing him.

But now it was much better in reality.

Takemichi’s hands carded along his hair and massaged on his scalp as Mikey backed him against the wall, instinctively deepening their shared kiss when he sensed that the other reciprocated passionately on their tight embrace.

His tongue coaxed at the entrance of his mouth to let him in to which Takemichi gladly do so and opened his mouth wider to let the other’s tongue explored the interiors and sensitive seams of his own mouth. A moan slipped past him as he felt him licking through the roof of his mouth while the other’s hand gently caressed and kneaded on the side of his hips.

“M-Mikey-kun…” He mumbled hotly against his lips as his legs automatically wrapped themselves around his waist for leverage and support because of the overwhelming sensations bombarding throughout his body.

“Hm?” He mouthed distractedly as his tongue was busy exploring the deepest crevices of his mouth which elicited soft moans from the other and his hand was now inside his shirt and mapping the sensitive flesh of his torso which had the other shaking like a leaf against him.

Takemichi briefly pulled away to catch his breath and ended their kiss reluctantly. Nevertheless, Mikey didn’t waste his time and let his eager mouth travelled down on the pale column of his neck where he showered it with heated kisses and love bites.

“Ha… Mikey-kun… C-careful I’m s-sensitive there…” Takemichi moaned out as his hands were now on the lapels of his shirt and gripping it for support.

“I know… But you’re so cute like this Takemitchy… Can’t help myself…” Mikey breathed out as his tongue lapped at the sensitive skin, his hot breaths leaving a trail of fire as his mouth grew bolder and hungrier, going down below his chest where he mouthed the flesh even if is shirt was still on, his other hand gripping his sides tightly to secure his spot on the wall.

“W-would you wanna take this upstairs? Bedrooms on the left side… I d-don’t think it’s wise to be doing this if we’re going to caught by a c-customer…” Takemichi stuttered out in between his gasps and moans.

As much as Mikey wanted to tease him and watch him fall apart against the wall, he was too pent up and wanted to take the blond in his arms right there and then.

“Okay…” He murmured before he pulled away and scooped him up on his arms, not wasting his time as he made his way upstairs going to his bedroom.

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed the wine onto me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was maroon

The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

Mikey didn’t waste his time as he proceeded to put Takemichi on the mattress with ease, throwing his shirt somewhere from the ground.

Takemichi watched in rapt attention, mesmerized with the way Mikey was moving, half of his mind was still in a daze and thinking that this must be a dream because he would never think that they would see each other like this.

And if it was a dream, it was one that he wished he would never wake up on.

As soon as Mikey discarded his shirt recklessly on the ground, his hands deftly moved to his pants where he unbuckled it. While Takemichi’s eyes feast on the lean, sculpted frame of the other. He wasn’t bulky or too muscly per se but it revealed on how toned his physique was. That despite being in juvenile prison, he was still involved in strenuous activities that maintained his shapely thighs and well-toned body.

As if by some force urging him to turn around, Mikey slowly faced Takemichi’s direction and found out the other was eyeing him with unabashed admiration and want, his ocean blue eyes turned a tad darker and was swimming in lust and need. A small smirk found its way towards Mikey’s lips as their eyes clashed. Indigo irises meeting his obsidian ones. A shiver ran up through Takemichi’s spine upon meeting his intense gaze. His sable orbs bored right through his soul as if Mikey was seeing through his innermost thoughts and he couldn’t hide anything from him.

“See something that you like?” He asked throatily.

Takemichi couldn’t stop the rosy hues coating his cheeks upon hearing his question and the way he caught him staring like some lovestruck fool.

“Stop being too cocky Mikey-kun…” He tried to warn him but it came out as a soft whine which made the other chuckle lowly.

“You’re still you Takemitchy. And that’s what I love about you.” Mikey murmured softly which made Takemichi’s heart somersault wildly inside his chest.

He could only stare at the other completely mesmerized as he descended and crawled slowly beside him on the bed after successfully discarding all his clothes.

Upon reaching his spot, Mikey stopped right on top of him. There was a soft yet inscrutable expression on his face as one of his hands had reached down to caress his cheek gently.

“S-shut up M-Mikey-kun… D-don’t ruin the moment by being cheesy…” Takemichi grumbled out in a stuttering voice but his cheeks were painted in crimson red but refused to let him know how his words melted his entire being right there and then.

A saucy grin made its way towards Mikey’s face before he leaned down on his face, stopping a few inches from him. “If you say so.” He whispered throatily before he captured his lips in a deep kiss and his hands started to take off his clothes one by one.

A light gasp escaped from Takemichi’s lips but he reciprocated his kiss, matching his passionate rhythm with his own. He couldn’t help but to whined and whimpered softly as he felt the other’s tongue brushing along the roof of his mouth, the ecstasy running through his veins.

Mikey continued in kissing him ferociously, taking advantage of the other’s whimpers and slipped his tongue inside the entrance of his mouth wherein he explored the crevices and sensitive nooks inside of it.

Takemichi trembled underneath him like a shaking leaf as Mikey’s hands caressed every part of his body in a way that left him breathless and wanting for more.

Upon reaching his plump buttocks, he gave it a soft squeeze before one of his fingers had started to breach in his warm entrance which made Takemichi moan against his mouth. His finger circled around his quivering walls expertly, trying to loosen him up when he inserted another finger and began scissoring him.

Takemichi jolted slightly when Mikey hit a certain spot that made him see stars right that instant. It made Mikey smirk.

“Found it…” He mumbled hotly against his lips.

Takemichi briefly pulled away with a drool and lecherous moans leaving from his lips as the onslaught of ecstasy bombarded his senses when Mikey continued hitting on his sweet spot.

“M-Mikey-kun…” He whined needily as he bucked his hips for more, wanting more friction against their bodies.

Mikey continued to abuse his sweet spot repeatedly resulting in the other being a complete drooling and moaning mess beneath him.

“What?” He breathed out as he licked his lips slowly.

“P-please… I-I w-want m-more…” He whimpered against him.

And how could Mikey refuse those bewitching ocean blue eyes and pleading yet sultry voice of his?

If it was another time, Mikey could’ve tease and edge him more but not today.

Not today.

When he wanted him. Desperately.

“If that’s what my Takemitchy wants… then I’ll simply grant it…” Mikey murmured as he slowly pulled out his fingers which resulted to the other whining because of the loss of contact.

But only for a moment as Mikey situated himself on top of him and pulled on his legs on his shoulders. He gave himself a few pumps before he plunged in and breached his sensitive walls with a one, swift thrust which made them both moaned out in ecstasy and in unison.

Takemichi stilled beneath him, the scalding sensation of his member penetrating his insides almost made him melt and split into half because of how thick and wide it was in girth which made him took a deep, shuddering breath as his body shivered from the impact.

On the other hand, Mikey paused beneath him and swallowed thickly. He tried to let Takemichi adjust to their current situation even though his body was screaming at him to take him recklessly and plowed him ferociously on the mattress.

“T-tell me when you get used to it Takemitchy…” He whispered breathlessly, gripping his sides tightly that he swore it would leave bruises tomorrow.

A few moments would pass before one of Takemichi’s hand had rose to cradle Mikey’s nape and brought him down to his face to brush his lips gently against his own.

“Don’t hold back for me Mikey… I want to feel every part of you… I want to feel what your body and heart sincerely wants with me…” He murmured softly against his lips.

And just like a thin thread snapping out of Mikey’s senses, the last vestiges of control slipping instantaneously from his entire being and washed him through the shores of lust and ecstasy.

“If that’s what you really want Takemitchy then I’ll gladly do so…” He mumbled back hotly on his lips and gave him a one, last deep kiss before he pulled away and thrust right back into his scorching heat with intense ferocity and lust that made Takemichi mewled like a helpless kitten beneath him.

“F-fuck…! F-feels good Mikey-kun…! Please don’t stop…!” He moaned out salaciously as Mikey’s thrusts grew faster and harder until he was pounding him relentlessly on the bed which creaked violently from their wild movements.

“Fuck you feel good around me Takemitchy! I missed this…! I missed the feeling of you tightening around me like you’re made for my cock alone!” Mikey groaned out as he held the other’s hips in a bruising grip, the feeling of the other’s walls holding his cock in a vice like grip made him lose his mind and catapulted into the sea of pleasure and need of the other.

“Ngh… God… Feels good… Why’re you so big…! Hit there harder…!” Tears of pleasure streamed down on Takemichi’s face when the other finally reached his sweet spot and abused it repeatedly which made his body went into an overdrive and he came too soon, the splashes of his cum painting their chests in white.

“You came unexpectedly without me Takemitchy? How naughty of you. Guess you’ll lend me a hand to make me come too, right?” A wicked smirk ghosted around Mikey’s lips as one of his fingers brushed along his chest and swiped on the cum towards his lips teasingly.

Takemichi’s eyes widened briefly at the action before a loud moan escaped from his sinful lips when Mikey flipped him over the mattress and his pace grew deeper and rougher, his cock hitting all the right places inside his body which was still sensitive from coming too soon. He continued to rail him mercilessly on the mattress, the blazing heat of their bodies and the cacophonies of their lecherous moans ringing out against the four walls of the room.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Mikey-kun if you keep going on at this rate I’ll come again!” Takemichi mewled out like a bitch in heat but he couldn’t even stop his body from reacting instinctively as his hips were grinding back harder against the other’s thrusts on his body.

“Can’t even fucking stop when you felt so good around me Takemitchy…!” Mikey growled out lowly. “Fuck! I love you! Gonna come soon!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Please give it to me!” Takemichi whined out before a salacious moan slipped out from his lips as he felt Mikey convulsed on top of him and the hot, scalding sensation of his cum painting his walls in white and filled him up to his brim instantaneously.

A loud groan escaped from Mikey’s lips as he reached his peak and splashed his load into the other’s walls before his knees gave up and fell on top of him.

Their ragged breathing and loud heartbeats were the only sounds reverberating inside the room until he felt Takemichi’s hands carding through his locks which made him sigh out in contentment.

He was almost dozing off before he heard Takemichi’s soft voice in a faint whisper which made him smile and heart soared out in happiness and delight.

“I love you too, Mikey-kun.”

It was maroon

(A/N: My first one shot in this fandom for this year. Not my best but I tried. I’ll prolly work on my in-progress TR fics soon but the succeeding chapters will take time because I’ll be busy with work and career so hopefully you can wait patiently for that. Belated happy new year everyone. Reviews are amusing so let me hear them from you).

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xdarkdesirex · 7 months

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Start of a Downfall

Eloise flinched as the sound of shattered glass filled the silent air. Pictures off the mantle now surrounded her and she immediately fell to her knees to try and salvage what was inside the now broken frames. “You really think that you are ever going to fucking make it anywhere in this life like this Ellie?! You’re kidding yourself!” His voice filled with anger and laced with hatred. He walked closer to her the sound of glass crushing under each step. She picked up the final picture she had taken her sixth grade year before being forced to the states, giving it a look before Sebastian ripped it from her hands. Her heart skipped a few beats and her eyes got wide in fear. She tried to snatch it back but she lost. She pushed herself up off the floor, a piece of glass cutting into her palm.

She now stood toe to toe with him “Give it back. Take any other one but that one!” Her voice got louder with each word. He could have taken any of the others. Her with her dog, or the one that she had forced the two of them to take when she hired him just to have the memory, but he chose that one. He dangled the picture in front of her and she tried to grab it once more. Sebastian pulled it away from her and ripped it in half, letting it fall back to the ground.

She screamed out in pain as tears began to roll down her cheek. She gritted her teeth and let the fire of her anger consume her body. “Man fuck you! You know nothing about me and what I have been through!” She yelled as she balled up both of her fists as tight as she could and hit him square in the chest over and over until she backed him into the wall. “You think you know what it’s like? Sitting here with your precious ass life? Parents that actually love you. Support you. Got a good job, a family that cares! Don’t sit there and try to say you know anything about my life. You know nothing!“ Sebastian quickly grabbed both of her wrists and shoved her back as hard as he could, forcing her to the floor. She winced a bit in pain but it wasn’t noticeable. The blood from her palm stained her freshly waxed hardwood floors. “You are so used to being broken that the angels themselves can’t fix you. You are a lost cause.” He took a few steps toward her and crouched down to her level. She looked up at him. She crossed a line and she finally realized it.

“I need help.” her words were soft as she weakly pushed herself up off the ground. Eloise couldn’t deny the fact that she was in a totally different mental state then she had been just a week before. The stress of the new album, buying a new home in Brooklyn, and still trying to process everything from the four years prior to that moment. She was bursting at the seams. Sebastian stood up and tried to reach out for her but she flinched away. The last thing she wanted was to be touched. “Eloise, let me help you.” Her electric blue hues met his bright green ones. She swallowed hard. “Why should I? Look around you Sebastian. If this is your type of help then I don’t want it.” She couldn’t help her voice from cracking. She looked at the broken memories all over the floor. Each one now representing the broken pillars of her life. Eloise reached down and picked up a now faded newspaper article from the mess and silently walked into her room where she separated herself from the chaos.

Sebastian stood in the middle of the empty living room feeling alone. The only person in New York who had actually given him a chance after his run in with the law. Most of it was speculation but no one wanted to bet on a possibility. Eloise did. He never understood why but he was always grateful she did. He walked down the long hallway and stopped at her bedroom door. "Eloise, can we talk about this please?” He called out to her, hoping she wouldn’t just go silent on him. “Can you just go away?” she called out as she sealed back up her hope chest, tucking it back under her bed. She walked over to her bedroom door and opened it slightly. “Look, I hired you to keep my life together. Not tear it apart, and I sure as hell didn’t write in the contract I wanted to be thrown around like a rag doll.” He fell silent and his eyes flashed to her now bruised wrists. His fingerprints were clearly visible. She was still very fragile. He was surprised he didn’t break her.

“Just clean up the mess and leave. Anything on the schedule today just cancel it and if you try to keep me on my eating routine today just don’t. We will start fresh on Monday.” She walked past him and entered the kitchen, grabbing herself a bottle of water. His heart jumped in fear. “If you think I am going to leave you here all weekend with a fragile mind, you better think again. We both know you won’t eat or drink anything. You’ll have a mental break and you could get yourself hurt or killed!” She took a drink of water and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Good thing the choice is not yours to make. Be thankful you still have a job. Clean it and then leave.” She repeated herself as she walked back down the hall to her room, locking herself in once more.

#drabbleone #startofadownfall #esrpg

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princehrry-writings · 3 years

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Who's Chris Evans?

hey guys!! i've had this in my drafts for ages and i just finished it so here you go!!!!!

warnings: maybe a swear? revealing a relationship... idk. it's just fluffy

wordcount: 1284

masterlist

you're on the late late show and you're also married to chris.

“When did you and Chris first meet?”

James Corden leaned in a little as you thought back to the first time you ever met the man in question.

“Y/n, Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan are here to see the show tonight. Do you want me to bring them backstage?” Your tour manager asked, walking with you as you went to take your mark.

“Sebastian Stan is here?” You stopped walking, eyes blown wide. Sebastian Stan as in… you’re favorite character from Gossip Girl… was here? At your show?

“And Chris Evans, yes.” He said.

“Who’s Chris Evans?” You asked, continuing on your way backstage so you could walk up the stairs onto the stage.

“You know that new comic book movie, Captain America? He’s playing Captain America.” He explained and it clicked. You had seen the advertisements about the new movie and the preview clip at the end of the Iron Man movie.

Wow, they were here? That’s crazy.

“Yeah, bring them back!” You said right as you were running out onto the stage, your first song beginning.

* .

Once the show was over, you came backstage, prepared to sit down and chill out. Walking into your dressing room where your mom, manager, and a few crew members where, you flopped on the couch, completely exhausted.

The door opening didn’t catch your attention. Your tour manager walking in didn’t catch your attention. But hearing him clear his throat and introduce the two people he brought with him certainly did.

“Y/n, this is Chris and Sebastian!” He said and you shot up out of your seat, extending your hand to shake. A smile graced your face as you looked at the two very attractive men standing before you.

“Hi! I’m Y/n, it’s really nice to meet you guys!” You said, feeling your heart skip a couple beats.

Introductions were made and you all sat down, having a conversation, laughing at jokes and becoming closer than you thought possible for one night.

“Oh, I should take this…” Sebastian trailed off. Before he left, you caught sight of the name on his screen and saw it was Leighton Meester. You tried not to freak out because she is your absolute favorite character on Gossip Girl.

It was just you and Chris left. He moved a little closer to you but you didn’t think anything of it. All night, you had felt a spark between the two of you but you didn’t think he would feel the same way so you kind of just brushed it off. That is until he speaks up after a moment of silence.

“You know, Y/n… I’m gonna kick myself if I don’t do this. I think you’re really cool and I was wondering if maybe you’d want to grab dinner sometime or something?”

“Yeah, he asked me out and honestly the rest is history. We’ve been together ever since!” You finished your story, hearing the crowd begin to cheer.

“That was how long ago now?” He followed up.

“That was uh… that was 11 years ago. Damn.”

“So, you’ve been tied down for 11 years now and nobody’s known?” You giggle as the crowd gasps and laughs, nodding your head. You look over to the wings of the set and see Chris with a beaming smile on his face, waiting for his cue to come out.

“Yeah! It hasn’t been easy but it’s been nice to have a place I could escape to. I’ve seen so many great things be torn apart by the media and I didn’t want my relationship to be added to that list, so we just chose not to make it public knowledge.”

“How did you manage that?”

“There was a lot of going in through back doors and leaving the house in different cars just to go to the same place. A lot of “no pictures please” and “don’t post any of this.” Like I said, it hasn’t been easy.” You sighed, spinning the ring on your finger as a comfort tactic.

“We actually have Chris here, if he would like to come on out and join Y/n on the couch!” The man announced, crowd erupting into loud cheers and screams. He comes out from behind the curtain with that same smile on his face, waving to the crowd and the cameras.

You stood up to greet him with a smile and a kiss.

“Hi baby,” He smiled at you, pulling you into him tightly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before releasing you to sit back down. He shakes James' hand before sitting as close to you as he can and resting his hand on your thigh, resting your hand over his. His other arm curls around the back of the couch over your shoulder. You hear a collective awe from the crowd and smile, looking over at him and catching his gaze.

He sends a wink your way, loving the way your face heats up even after all this time.

“You two are just the cutest!” James cries, pulling you out of your daze and you look back over to him, seeing a gleaming grin on his face. He was very happy the two of you had finally decided to come out with your relationship. He'd been a friend of yours for a few years and was excited you chose his show to be the platform you broadcasted the news on.

Chris giggled and leaned over to peck your cheek a few times, causing your face to burn even more than it already was.

“So, Y/n is it true that Chris is actually a co-writer on your latest album? Under a pseudonym?” James asks, moving on from fawning over the two of you.

“Yeah, actually! Uh, with the lockdown, I didn’t want to go into it saying “Alright, it’s time to make the next album.” I kind of just sat back and said whatever happens will happen and one day I walked into the music room we have in our house and Chris was playing the guitar and humming this tune and I immediately heard what would end up being the finished version of Slow Burn.” I explained, looking over to see if Chris wanted to add anything.

“I had never done anything in the songwriting realm before that. I had always wanted to leave that to her and let it be her thing, so when she asked me to write the song with her it was kind of nerve wracking. Cause there I was, writing a song with a Grammy Award winning songwriter. It was very intimidating!” He said, bragging about your accomplishments like he always did. He’s a very proud husband.

“Well now, Chris, you are also a Grammy Award winning songwriter! Golden Hour won Album Of The Year, didn’t it?” James looks between the two of you with a small smile.

“It did, yeah!” He smiled, looking over at you.

“How many is that for you now Y/n?”

“Uh… that’s a good question.” The crowd laughed, causing a giggle to erupt from you. “11 I think… Yeah, 11.”

“11 Grammy Awards?!” James’ eyes bugged out. You nodded, a blush blooming on your skin. Chris giggled as you hid your face in his neck and the audience followed suit, giggling at how adorable the two of you were.

“Chris, you've got yourself a very talented lady here!” Chris looked over at you with a look you saw often in his eyes. You saw it every day actually, he was telling you he loved you without really having to say it because after all this time the two of you just knew.

“I do, I really do!”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x singer!reader #chris evans #chris evans x you #cevans #chris evans fluff #husband!chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #x reader #chris evans imagine #marvel #steve rogers x reader #curtis everett x reader #jake jensen x reader #ari levinson x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

890 notes · View notes

asecretvice · 3 years

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Glossary of Quotes, References, and Allusions in 'And This, Your Living Kiss'

INTRODUCTION

I’ve put together this official glossary for my fic due to multiple requests. Please read the whole introduction before you explore it.

First and foremost, I am a lover of literature and music but I’m not an expert. Dates are mostly taken from Wikipedia; definitions are in my own words but whenever I doubted myself I confirmed and/or adjusted using The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, fourth edition.

What this glossary is:

A list, in order of appearance, of any reference I/the characters have made with links and receipts when necessary EXCEPT for Supernatural references. There are very many of those and are meant for fans of the show to enjoy. A handful of extremely obvious references (e.g. Moana) have also been skipped.

What this glossary is not:

—Me explaining why I/the character chose to make that reference

—Me either endorsing or condemning any of these works and/or their creators

However, in order for people to make informed decisions, I have added a few Caveat lector warnings (reader beware) wherever I am aware of egregious negative themes. Use your own discretion from there. Please also understand I may be ignorant of some things myself in which case no warning will appear.

I’ve tried to keep the editorializing to a minimum. That said, if you have questions or want me to expand on anything contained herein, drop an ask and I’ll do my best to answer.

To navigate:

Each entry begins with phrases copied as written from the fic in order of their appearance. Therefore this will probably be the most helpful to read if you have both fic and glossary open on your screen; otherwise use your browser’s “find” function for keywords. People/works that are mentioned more than once only appear in the glossary the first time. Likewise, if it is defined in the fic itself I generally did not add it here, so double-check if you think something was missed.

Lastly, please enjoy!

opal <3

TITLE

“And This, Your Living Kiss”: a line from the poem “If I Was Dead” by Carol Ann Duffy (Scottish, b. 1955) and included in her collection Rapture(2005). You can read the poem in full here at the Scottish Poetry Library.

CHAPTER ONE: ARISE

He didn’t care where, just far. : A riff off a line from the song “Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)” by Deftones, off the album Around the Fur (1997). [youtube link]

The cheap perfume of the girls as they walk by, all dressed in their summer clothes… : A riff off a lyric from “Paint It, Black” by The Rolling Stones, off the album Aftermath (1966). [youtube link]

the usual oversold things like Patterson and Cussler : Bestselling American writers James Patterson (b. 1947) and Clive Cussler (1931-2020).

Dean scanned past Emerson and Erdrich, Ferlinghetti and García Lorca, until he paused on Allen Ginsberg. : Ralph Waldo Emerson, American writer (1803-1882); Louise Erdrich, Ojibwe/American novelist and poet (b. 1954); Lawrence Ferlinghetti, American beat poet and cofounder of City Lights, a San Francisco bookstore and publishing company referenced throughout this fic (1919-2021); Federico García Lorca, Spanish poet and playwright (1898-1936); Allen Ginsberg, American beat poet (1926-1997).

a book that just said Howl : Poem written by Allen Ginsberg and published in the collection Howl and Other Poems by City Lights in 1956. It’s made of four parts (three sections plus a footnote). Read it here, and don’t forget to click to the footnote at the bottom.

and it wasn’t the tiny black and white City Lights paperback : City Lights has a “Pocket Poets Series” whose design is pretty iconic. Read about it and see an example here.

HOWL, it read, Original draft facsimile…Facsimile? What did that even mean? : In the world of poetry a facsimile usually refers to a reproduction of a poem with all its extant drafts, including any markings made on them. They’re incredibly helpful in studying the craft/process of poets.

He wasn’t some elite sitting in his little Robert Frost cabin in the woods : Robert Frost, American poet (1974-1963).

discussion of the obscenity trial that nearly stopped it from being printed : Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Shig Murao were put on trial for publishing and disseminating Howl and Other Poems on the charge of the material being obscene. Obviously, they won the case.

Am I mad that I should cherish that which bears but bitter fruit? / I will pluck it from my bosom, though my heart be at the root. : A couplet from the long poem “Locksley Hall” (1835) by English poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892). Caveat lector: If you intend to read it, be warned it is an excellent example of his complicated legacy. That is, he has written some of the best verse to grace the English language, influencing it in many ways (“better to have loved and lost,” most famously), and yet he was a hella British imperialist with all the attendant racist and colonialist views. Arguably queer and proto-feminist, still some of the POVs he writes from, like the narrator of this poem, are very sexist and patriarchal.

Do I dare? : A famous quote from the poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” (1915) by T.S. Eliot (American-British poet, 1888-1965). Caveat lector: This poem is a fantastic read, but be aware that if you venture into his other poetry his anti-Semitism does make appearances.

was like a waking limb, pins and needles? : Another lyric riff, this time from “Nice to Know You” by Incubus, off the album Morning View (2001). [youtube link]

Courage, poor stupid heart of stone. : Another Tennyson quote, this time from his epic poem Maud: a monodrama (1855). Read it here. Click “next” at the bottom of the page for the rest of the poem.

CHAPTER TWO: JUVENILIA

Juvenilia : Term used to refer to the early works of a writer, generally unpublished until they’ve become established and there’s an interest/demand. From the Latin “of youth.”

Anne Bradstreet and Nathaniel Hawthorne and fucking Puritans : Discussion of American literature in classrooms usually starts with the Puritans. Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672), though born in England, lived most of her life in Massachusetts and is considered by some to be the first great American poet. Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864) was not a Puritan, but he was a direct descendant of prominent Puritan figures and his most famous book, The Scarlet Letter, takes place in those times/that culture.

discussions of The Scarlet Letter and Moby-Dick: For Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter (1850) see above. Moby-Dick (1851) was written by Herman Melville (1819-1891) and is another staple of early American lit.

It wasn’t until Dr. Moseley assigned Jack Kerouac’s On the Road that he paid a little more attention in class. : Jack Kerouac (1922-1969) was a major figure of the Beat Generation, writing both books and poetry. His most famous novel was a piece of autobiographical fiction called On the Road, published in 1957. Caveat lector: In the novel you’ll find general sexism throughout and a couple passages of ignorant (as opposed to malicious) racism.

“The Hobbit, that was written by the same guy as Lord of the Rings, right?” “J.R.R. Tolkien,” she answered brightly. : J.R.R. Tolkien (1892-1973) English philologist and writer. He’s most widely known for his book The Hobbit (1937) and its sequel, his masterpiece The Lord of the Rings (1954-1955).

“I keep meaning to because Led Zeppelin references it a lot.” : Two songs that immediately come to mind are “Ramble On” (1969) and “The Battle of Evermore” (1971). Youtube links here and here.

“Those were the days, man,” he said. “When a guy could just hop in a car and do whatever he wanted. A car, a destination, and a girl, in that order.” : A quote from On the Road: “It was remarkable how Dean could go mad and then suddenly continue with his soul—which I think is wrapped up in a fast car, a coast to reach, and a woman at the end of the road.”

“You named yourself after Ray Bradbury, of course I like you for you.” : Ray Bradbury (1920-2012), American writer, best known for Fahrenheit 451.

She was reading a slim volume called Wit : The play Wit or W;t premiered in 1995 and was written by Margaret Edson (American, b. 1961). It won the Pulitzer Prize in 1999. There was a movie made of it a while back starring Emma Thompson as Vivian Bearing, but definitely go see it in person at a theatre if you get the chance.

Shakespeare. Death of a Salesman. Pretty sure I’ve read The Crucible three times in three different states. : The plays Death of a Salesman (1949) and The Crucible (1953) were both written by American playwright Arthur Miller (1915-2005). Plenty of adaptations have been made of Miller’s work if you don’t get a chance to see them at a theatre; Dustin Hoffman is in a movie version of Salesman which I can knowingly recommend as quality.

a college professor specializing in metaphysical poetry : Basically you’re looking at a loosely defined English poetical movement in the 1600s. John Donne is by far the most famous of these poets.

“John Donne was the most famous practitioner…Hm, let’s see. You know the Metallica song, ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’?” “Sure, based on a Hemingway book.” : John Donne, English poet and priest (1572-1631). “For Whom the Bell Tolls” is a song by Metallica off the album Ride the Lightning (1984) [youtube link]. Ernest Hemingway, American writer and journalist (1899-1961). For Whom the Bell Tolls is among his most famous works. The quote is from “Meditation XVII” found in Donne’s Devotions upon Emergent Occasions (1623), which you can read here. The relevant and extremely famous part is “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

The centerpiece is a poem by John Donne, ‘Death Be Not Proud.’ : Sonnet written in 1609.

Dr. Seuss. Shel Silverstein. Chicka chicka boom boom. : Dr. Seuss, American writer and illustrator (1904-1991); Shel Silverstein, American writer (1930-1999); Chicka Chicka Boom Boom (1989) is an American picturebook written by Bill Martin Jr. and John Archambault, illustrated by Lois Ehlert.

if it was good enough for Plant and Bowie and Queen : Robert Plant is of course the lead singer of Led Zeppelin; Bowie is of course David Bowie.

Pulling them up from their dying bed : Here Dean is referencing Led Zeppelin’s version of “In My Time of Dying” (1975).

Just wipes us off his shoulder, dust to dust. : Naturally a reference to the famous line from many a Christian burial service, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

You told us that Kerouac wrote On the Road in one sitting. : A bit of an exaggeration; Kerouac reportedly typed up his “original scroll” in an intense drug-fueled haze in a relatively short period of time. This was eventually published long after the fact, so you can buy a copy if you’re interested.

What we read for class was highly edited : For coherency and subject matter and yes, changing the names of the real people involved. And it’s a lot shorter.

Well he and his friends were part of the Beat Generation. : Mid-century American art and counterculture movement.

One was titled Howl and the other, Kaddish. : Missouri is giving Dean the City Lights publications of Howl and Other Poems (1956) and Kaddish and Other Poems (1961), both by Allen Ginsberg. Kaddish is also considered one of Ginsberg’s masterpieces, written after the death of his mother.

If you like it, after we read Ralph Ellison I might squeeze in some poetry : Ralph Ellison, American writer and critic (1913-1994). Best known for Invisible Man (1952).

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness : This marks the first few lines of the poem Howl.

The Footnote with its orgasmic, nirvanic litany holy, holy, holy : The Footnote to Howl begins with fifteen repetitions of “Holy!” and contains many more iterations of the word thereafter.

Holy the cocks of the grandfathers of Kansas! : As written in the middle of the Footnote to Howl.

Eagerly Dean devoured the rest of the collection: “A Strange New Cottage in Berkeley,” “Sunflower Sutra,” and then, in the pinking dusky sky, “Many Loves,” : Indeed these are all pieces found in Ginsberg’s collection Howl and Other Poems. The italics in the paragraphs following this line are all lifted from “Many Loves” and not coincidentally, the phrases are in the order they appear in the poem, so even though you’re missing most of it, you are discovering those lines at the same time Dean is.

Oh god, they were together on a small cot. : Oh my god, there was only one bed! ^_^ Ginsberg and Cassady lived out the trope, y’all!! Icons!

Rufus Turner and his wife Gwen : Gwen is the only name in the fic not lifted from Supernatural, as no one in Rufus’s family is named in the show. Therefore I chose to name Rufus’s wife after celebrated American poet Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000).

you’ve never heard of Langston Hughes, one of the greatest poets this country ever produced? Harlem Renaissance? Nothing? : Langston Hughes (American, 1901-1967). The Harlem Renaissance was an African-American cultural movement (of which Hughes was a major figure) whose epicenter was in Harlem, New York City. It reverberated across the country and the world during the early 20th century. Hughes and jazz and all sorts of art from the Harlem Renaissance were big influences on Allen Ginsberg (and the Beats in general).

Eastern poetics had a big influence on Ginsberg. : Just like what was showing up in music by The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, Eastern art, culture, and religion were popular in a big way in Western literature during the mid-century. The Beat Generation was well involved. Ginsberg talks about haiku a lot when discussing his craft.

Japanese masters, like Matsuo Bashō : A Japanese poet (1644-1694) very famous for haiku. His Frog Haiku has been rendered in many ways, but of course Ginsberg’s is included here. For comparison, an older contemporary of the Beats named Kenneth Rexroth, who translated a lot of foreign-language poetry into English (thank you for your service, good sir!), fashioned it thus: An old pond— / The sound / Of a diving frog.

CHAPTER THREE: DR. NOVAK

The expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face—You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side— : Both lines are lifted from the second stanza of the second part of Walt Whitman’s (American, 1819-1892) poem “I Sing the Body Electric,” first published in 1855, but revised over the years. Read it here. Caveat lector: Slavery and auction block references.

Styles, forms. Sonnet, sestina, terza rima? : Style can refer to the common definition, but also specific characteristics that define an individual’s writing, or a poetic/literary movement. Its definition can change depending on type of criticism. The study of styles is called stylistics. Form refers to the structure by which a poem is composed or, more broadly, how lines are broken up in free verse, etc. Forms invented and/or made famous by a certain poet automatically invoke that poet when choosing to write within it. The following three terms are traditional poetic forms. A sonnet is traditionally a 14-line poem that often follows a certain scheme based on three different poets who perfected them: the Italian or Petrarchan sonnet, associated with Petrarch (Francesco Petrarca, Aretine, 1304-1374); the Spenserian, associated with Edmund Spenser (English, 1552/3-1599); and the English or Shakespearean associated, of course, with William Shakespeare (1564-1616). Originally a Sicilian invention from the 1200s. A sestina is a difficult form comprised of six stanzas with six lines apiece. Each line of the poem ends with one of six words, alternating by pattern. It ends with a final three-line stanza using all six words, three in the middle and three at the end. If this sounds confusing, read Elizabeth Bishop’s famous “A Miracle for Breakfast” (1937) to see the sestina in action. An Occitan invention of the 1100s, likely by Arnaut Daniel. Terza rima consists of tercets (three-line stanzas) interlocked by the rhyme scheme aba bcb cdc and so on. Developed by Dante Alighieri (Florentine, 1265-1321) for his masterwork la Commedia, best known as The Divine Comedy.

How about poetic elements? Chiasmus, anaphora? : Chiasmus is also a type of repetition. It can occur on the level of sound, word, phrase, idea, or structure, by reversing or crossing over two of these things. Example: “A and B; B and A.”

Dean was hardly going to tell him that his last collection had been shortlisted for the National Book Award. : A longstanding and important book award given annually in the United States. In addition to Poetry there are currently categories for Fiction, Nonfiction, Translated Literature, and Young People’s Literature. If you’re looking for poetry recs Wikipedia has a list of the winners and finalists here.

and popped Zepp’s Physical Graffiti into the player. : Led Zeppelin released their sixth album Physical Graffiti in 1975. [youtube link]

Honestly Dean wouldn’t be surprised if one of them had declared their love for Cas on their eyelids, Indiana Jones style. : See this short clip from Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) if you’re unfamiliar with Dean’s reference.

Paradise Lost : This epic poem was written by John Milton (English, 1608-1674) in 1667.

The Bible : Oldest extant written text from around a couple hundred years BCE, but presumed to have first been put together centuries prior via linguistics and historical considerations, etc. About a third of the Hebrew Bible is poetry.

The Iliad : Epic poem of Ancient Greece concerning the Trojan War first written down, and possibly composed, in the 8th century BCE. Popularly attributed to Homer.

Beowulf : Written down around the turn of the 11th century CE, but possibly from up to a couple centuries earlier, this epic poem was composed in Old English aka Anglo-Saxon.

Gilgamesh : Some of the earliest surviving literature of the world full stop! Poems about the Ancient Mesopotamian figure first showed up written in Sumerian (possibly as early as the mid-2000s BCE???), but this student likely means the Epic of Gilgamesh, composed in Akkadian and written up to a millennium or so later.

They come from the oral tradition. : Billie and Cas remind us that just because a written piece of work is very old, it in no way means the culture it comes from is superior to others. All cultures had and have rich, beautiful, ancient storytelling traditions whether they’ve been written down or not.

driving in a car singing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with our friends : “Bohemian Rhapsody” is a song written by Queen off the album A Night at the Opera (1975). [youtube link] Though I can guarantee you that the comment brings to Dean’s mind the famous opening of the movie Wayne’s World (1992). [youtube link]

the next person, who had chosen some Sylvia Plath : Sylvia Plath, American, 1932-1963. Caveat lector: If you explore her more famous poems you will find vivid Holocaust references that, though used as metaphor, are very arguably anti-Semitic. Also consider caution if you struggle with depression.

Yone Noguchi : Whether Noguchi can be considered American depends on who you ask, as he was born in Japan and returned there later in life, but he lived in the United States a good long while and wrote a lot of English-language poetry. Dean makes an erroneous assumption here without having read the full bio; Noguchi certainly wrote a lot in Japanese as well, but that’s outside the purview of Castiel’s class.

“Uh, Imagism?” “You know, early shit from Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot and whatever.” : Imagism was more or less the precursor to Modernism in English-language poetry and was, as you may guess, heavy on imagery. Ezra Pound (American, 1885-1972) was a huge proponent of Imagism and an important writer, critic, and editor such that he basically is the foundation of 20th century English-language lit. For all that, another Caveat lector: he was an anti-Semite and such a devoted fascist that he literally moved to Italy for love of Mussolini and was later tried by the States for treason (got out of it on the grounds of mental health). I don’t know how much of such views appear in his poetry because I’ve read little of it. However, for a small but famous example of his work that also demonstrates the influence of Eastern poetics, here’s “In a Station of the Metro” (1913): The apparition of these faces in the crowd: / Petals on a wet, black bough.

That attitude’s just a holdover from when Harold Bloom was talking about the ‘Anxiety of Influence’ that poets suffer : Harold Bloom (American, 1930-2019), influential critic, published his book The Anxiety of Influence: A Theory of Poetry in 1973.

Jonathan Lethem, though? Him you should look up. : Jonathan Lethem (American writer, b. 1964) wrote an essay called “The Ecstasy of Influence,” published in Harper’s Magazine in 2007. Read it in full here.

There were some poets he vaguely remembered from high school, like Wilfred Owen : English poet, 1893-1918. Considered one of the great WWI poets, he was killed in action while in France, age 25.

Typographical, sonic, sensory, ideational, and—putting them all together—fusional. : Adapted and in widespread use based on books by Lewis Turco (American, b. 1934). Some basic definitions follow. Typographical: How the poem appears on the page. Sonic: Anything sound-related, from repeated letters (assonance, consonance) to rhyme, rhythm, meter, pauses, etc. Sensory: Things that evoke both physical senses (taste, touch, etc.) and emotions. Ideational: Thoughts and ideas; themes, morals, arguments, opinions, etc. Fusional: How and whether the other levels fit into a cohesive whole; is the poem more than the sum of its parts?

Maybe Dean was a little Hot for Teacher : “Hot for Teacher” is a song by Van Halen from the album 1984 (indeed, released in 1984). [youtube link]

singing the praises of poems that required fluency in five languages {…} “What, he can quote half an Eastern religion but he’s not quoting Tennyson?” : In T.S. Eliot’s long poem The Waste Land (1922) a few different languages make an appearance, including Sanskrit, as he pulls from Hindu scripture. Dean points out that one of the poem’s most famous lines, “I will show you fear in a handful of dust” owes something to a less famous line of Tennyson’s, also appearing in the aforementioned Maud, “And my heart is a handful of dust.”

CHAPTER FOUR: DINNER AT MISSOURI’S

and coax out her thoughts about Vonnegut’s short stories : Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007), American writer best known for his novel Slaughterhouse-Five.

You also might want to brush up on your MLA. : The Modern Language Association, an American organization that publishes the style and citation guide favored by literary scholars; in this context used as shorthand for how to cite references within a paper.

“Who hasn’t heard of Caddyshack?!” : A 1980 comedy starring Chevy Chase and Bill Murray.

“Exactly,” said Sam, laughing. “And he really loved Ayn Rand.” : Russian-American writer (1905-1982) best known for her novels The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged.

CHAPTER FIVE: JOHN WINCHESTER’S WALTZ

Beat Generation, Formalism, Surrealism, Confessional, Deep Image poetry, and many more : Formalism in this case refers to a resurgence of poetic forms and use of more stringent elements such as rhyme or meter after the recent dominance of free verse. Surrealism had of course been around for decades but saw new life through exchange of international styles and translations, and experimentation pushing boundaries of the traditional and the rational. Confessional poetry is taking the autobiographical style of poetry to the extreme. Very personal and subjective writing about oneself, especially illness and trauma, etc. Deep Image poetry is an American style influenced by the ideas of Carl Jung and especially Latin American surrealism, putting emphasis on archetypal and natural imagery to evoke thought, emotion, and connection.

‘My Papa’s Waltz’ written by Theodore Roethke : American poet, 1908-1963. He was born and grew up in Saginaw.

This next one was written in 1966 by Robert Hayden: 'Those Winter Sundays.' : American poet, 1913-1980. He was born and grew up in Detroit.

And they drank to all the man was, and all he could have been. : In retrospect, almost certainly inspired by lyrics from “The Great Below” by Nine Inch Nails, off the album The Fragile (1999). [youtube link]

So. : An echo of Seamus Heaney’s (Irish poet, 1939-2013) famous and highly lauded translation of Beowulf, specifically his interpretation of the first word “Hwæt” as “So.”

CHAPTER SIX: THE RETURN OF THE QUEEN

The Return of the Queen : Referencing the third part of The Lord of the Rings containing books five and six, The Return of the King.

My candle burns at both ends, the loopy part of his brain chanted over and over, like having a song stuck in the head. It gives a lovely light! : Lines from the short poem “First Fig” (1920) by American poet Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950). In full it reads, My candle burns at both ends; / It will not last the night; / But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends— / It gives a lovely light!

In the end he had to take notes from his man Harrison Ford and pull an Indiana Jones exchange with his wallet. : Another reference to Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. If you’re unfamiliar or need a refresher, here’s a clip of the scene on youtube. Relevant part about a minute in.

Dean had spent too long guarding him like Smaug and his golden hoard : Another Tolkien reference; Smaug is an infamous dragon from the book The Hobbit.

There’s a Whitesnake quote? From their song ‘Here I Go Again.’ : Originally off the album Saints & Sinners (1982), but the more widely known version is the later cut from 1987. [youtube link]

“I love you.” / “I know.” : Infamous lines from Star Wars: Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back (1980) [youtube link].

Elizabeth Bishop : American poet, (1911-1979).

Emily Dickinson : American poet, (1830-1886).

Oscar Wilde : Irish writer, (1854-1900).

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BRIDGE

and then Billie had mentioned that if Robert Hayden grew up in Detroit couldn’t “blueblack” also be a reference to the local music scene in his childhood?: This wonderful observation is cribbed from the Poetry in America series, as described by poet Elizabeth Alexander (American, b. 1962) in the episode for Hayden’s “Those Winter Sundays.” Watch it here.

And wasn’t there a Muddy Waters song : Muddy Waters, American musician 1913-1983. One of the greatest bluesmen to ever live, and a huge influence on rock’n’roll.

while everyone else was bringing in Frost and Dickinson and Keats : John Keats, English poet, 1795-1821.

or ones who drank themselves into the grave like Dylan Thomas, or were going crazy all the time like Lowell : Dylan Thomas, Welsh poet, 1914-1953. Robert Lowell, American poet, 1917-1977.

These poets for social justice, like Dennis Brutus. : Dennis Brutus, South African poet, 1924-2009.

“Warmgold folds,” he said. “Silkchill skeins. That sunlit sensuous voluptuousness / of luxurious indulgence in lush-ripe flesh.” : Phrases from an untitled poem [“The sand wet and cool”] written by Brutus in 1970.

“Milkblue.” : The beginning of another untitled poem by Brutus written in 1970 [“Milkblue—tender the moonlit midnight sky”].

Like Byron did both, right : George, Lord Byron, English poet 1788-1824.

“He said, if he had spent more time on poetry, he would have been a better poet. But working to end apartheid and other injustices in the world was more important work. And that is how he chose to spend his time.” : “And it seems to me that if I ever made such a commitment—to be a craftsman in poetry—inevitably, the other things I’m doing would suffer {…} In order for me to make a total commitment to poetry, I would have to remake myself. This is not impossible, in the sense that I could wholly shut out, say, my political activity, my organizing work, my sports, the kind of chores which I do from day to day with this and that committee, and so on. I think it would not be impossible, but I think it would be immoral. This is what really stops me: that a total commitment to the craft of poetry, with the kind of integrity which that implies, would do damage to what I now regard as essential to integrity for me. Which means social concern.” Dennis Brutus, as quoted in Poetry & Protest: A Dennis Brutus Reader (2006) pg 177.

This idea that poets and other artists should self-destruct for our amusement is a rotten romanticism. : Credit for calling this oft-criticized phenomenon ‘rotten romanticism’ must go to Elizabeth Bishop, as written in a personal letter to a friend. From Megan Marshall’s biography Elizabeth Bishop: A Miracle for Breakfast (2017) pg 130: “Elizabeth had been distressed, she told a friend, by the way so many in [Robert Lowell’s] inner circle, like [Dylan Thomas’s], seemed to “really just love the spectacle of the poet destroying himself and they’re filled with rotten romanticism about it.””

Dean took it hesitantly. “A River Dies of Thirst,” he read. “What is this?” “Mahmoud Darwish. Read ‘The essence of the poem.’ Near the end. Okay?” : Mahmoud Darwish, Palestinian poet, 1941-2008. His collection A River Dies of Thirst was published in Arabic in 2008; the English language edition was translated by Catherine Cobham and published in 2009. Find “The essence of the poem” pgs 119-120.

Dean didn’t hear him. After Mary Oliver and Maya Angelou, there he was: Jack Allen. : Mary Oliver, American poet, 1935-2019. Maya Angelou, American writer, (1928-2014).

and unforgiving lights all / Left up bright, : This line owes something to a lyric from “The Last Time I Saw Richard” off the album Blue (1971) by Joni Mitchell. [youtube link]

Is there life? / Is there life on Mars? : From the song “Life on Mars?” by David Bowie, off the album Hunky Dory (1971). [youtube link]

Getting crushed by a unicorn, hello Freud! : Sigmund Freud, father of psychoanalysis (Austrian, 1856-1939).

Please. That’s exactly the kind of plain guy name a girl would use for a pseudonym. George Eliot-style. : Mary Ann Evans, English writer, better known by her nom de plume George Eliot (1819-1880).

Dean bit his lip, fighting not to snap out that he quoted David Bowie because sometimes it’s kinda funny, you know, what you think when you’re doing things like that : This line riffs off of lyrics from the song “Me and a Gun” by Tori Amos, off the album Little Earthquakes (1992). [youtube link, but trigger warning for rape]

and sometimes a song was just a damn song. : Dean recycling a quote popularly attributed to Freud, “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar” (sometimes there is no symbolic meaning).

“Nights in Pink Satin”: A Reference Playlist

“Nights in White Satin” by The Moody Blues, from Days of Future Passed (1967)

“Lola” by The Kinks, from Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround, Part One (1970)

“Hoochie Coochie Man” by Muddy Waters (1954)

“I’m a Man” by Bo Diddley (1955)

“Mannish Boy” by Muddy Waters (1955)

“I’m Eighteen” by Alice Cooper, from Love It to Death (1971)

“Don’t Let Me Down” by The Beatles (1969)

Referenced in spirit:

“18 and Life” by Skid Row, from Skid Row (1989)

“Pink” by Aerosmith, from Nine Lives (1997)

Accidentally referenced: “In My Time of Dying” by Led Zeppelin.

Nonmusical reference: Allen Ginsberg’s Footnote to Howl.

“If he’s so uncomfortable, I would very much like to read out Sharon Olds’s ‘The Connoisseuse of Slugs’.” : Sharon Olds, American poet (b. 1942). Find “The Connoisseuse of Slugs” in her collection The Dead and the Living (1984), or read it here.

As it should be, padawan : A Jedi apprentice from Star Wars.

The chrism is on thine head,—on mine, the dew,— : From the third sonnet in Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s (English poet, 1806-1861) masterwork Sonnets from the Portuguese (1850). Read it here, though I have used the adjusted punctuation by EBB from later publications.

He showed me how to live. : “Show Me How to Live” by Audioslave, off the album Audioslave (2002). [youtube link]

Lazarus Rising : Just a quick note to say the poem is simply using a terza rima rhyme scheme, since I’ve come across people wondering what form it is.

I hope this glossary was both helpful and interesting! Feel free to drop an ask if you’d like.

#living kiss #glossary

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

Text

Our Song (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Request: alyssa naehex reader thats set during quarantine w/ “Shy” by Alexander Stewart. I just kind of think it’s cute since she’s an introvert and that it would be fitting

Author’s Note: Speical Thanks To @literaryhedgehog

Alyssa knew she should just say it, that admitting it out loud would finally put an end to this madness. She ran a soothing hand through your hair when you sniffled loudly into her chest.

God, she should just tell you how she felt. But, she also didn’t want to overstep. That would make being roommates really awkward. Especially since neither of you were supposed to leave the apartment right now except for essential purchases. And she didn’t want to lose her best friend. That would really suck.

But she wasn’t afraid to say what no one else would- you had a terrible taste when it came to partners. You chose people who didn’t value you, and you always ended up hurt.

This time was no different, well, it was slightly different considering you couldn’t leave your shared apartment to cope like you normally would. Alyssa didn’t know if that was better or worse, considering that you had adapted your breakup routine to just be endless cuddles with her and your favorite stuffed animal.

She had already spent the last hour making comforting noises. You had stopped shedding tears 15 minutes ago, so Alyssa decided it was time to go for some humor. “Hey, so now you and Taylor Swift have something in common!”

“Hmm” You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes never leaving where Supergirl was playing on screen.

“Well, she was broken up with over text. You were broken up with over text. I think this is the perfect opportunity to listen to her re-recording of Fearless, and really channel those emotions!”

“No, Joe broke up with her in a 27-second phone call,” You lifted your head up off of her very comfortable chest to raise your eyebrow at the woman.

Alyssa was a great keeper, and amazing at crosswords, but she always needed your help when it came to Taylor trivia.

“Then Joe showed more consideration as an 18-year-old child than your 32 year old wanna be soccer star. It doesn’t change the fact that I think listening to Mr Perfectly Fine would be cathartic.”

“It’s kinda funny that she wrote Forever and Always, Mr. Perfectly fine, Better than Revenge and Holy Ground all about the same guy, they’re all so different from each other,” You mumbled, settling back down on her chest. At least she didn’t say that you had as many breakups as she did. That was a rude joke. (One Alyssa wouldn’t dare make. She was more cultured than the media asshats that chased your team around).

“Woman’s efficient,” Alyssa shrugged. “No reason why you can't recycle the same emotion into a different song genre.”

“At least she could make millions off her pain. All I seem to be able to do is kick the ball harder,” You grumbled. Your landlord complained about you practicing in the street because of how hard you sent the ball careening into his precious brick wall. It wasn’t your fault Alyssa was too slow to stop the PK.

“Darling, considering you’re one of the strongest kickers on the east coast, I’d say that pain is going to a worthwhile cause. But you do kind of have the worst taste in relationships.”

“Hey! Savannah wasn’t a bad choice, just bad timing,” You huffed indignantly.

“So that would be one out of…. How many bad relationships?”

“At least one for every Taylor Swift album,”

“Okay, here’s a fun idea, choose an ex for each album,” Alyssa said brightly. Thinking about music would definitely cheer you up. “Wannabe soccer star is obviously your Joe, so represents the Fearless album. Which relationship is your… Drew?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you said, already picking up your phone to add Teardrops on my Guitar to the music queue. You then quickly added Forever and Always and started scrolling through Speak Now for the next song inspiration.

Alyssa nodded. It was a well-known fact that you had a massive crush on one Hope Solo growing up, and you had been absolutely enamored with her the second you set foot into camp. But Alyssa also knew that Hope was very faithful to a certain veteran.

The veteran keeper had tried to let you down easy, and Kelley was still one of your best friends, but it had hurt in the moment.

“Kristie was my Haunted,” you said, smiling slightly. Dating her felt like a whirlwind, one that took your breath until you never thought it would end. She made butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you were so desperate to say the right thing, to be the perfect partner, that you always felt like you were walking a tightrope. Floating on air, but desperate to keep your balance. “At least she had the decency to wait until we were in the same city to end it.”

“Aren’t the two of you friends now?” Alyssa looked down at you, watching as you scrolled through songs from your comfortable place on her chest.

You nodded with a small smile. “Hmm, we are much better off that way anyway.”

“I bet you I can guess who your We are Never Ever Getting Back Together person is,” Alyssa trilled, reaching down to take the phone.

You playfully snatched it away from her. “Who’s to say I wasn’t going to choose I knew you were trouble?” You raised your eyebrow at the woman, who simply smirked in response.

“I can tell you who that is too if you like,” Alyssa reached for her own phone and took over control of the speakers, adding both songs to the music queue.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who?”

“You definitely knew Sam Kerr was trouble, and I think it took you 4 breakups with Leah to finally call it quits,”

“I was going to say Leah for 1989, it took me forever to realize how fucked up our relationship was after we finally broke up,”

“I’m sure the distance didn’t help.” With her in London and you in Chicago things just kind of fell apart.

“Maybe,” you hummed, noncommittally.

“Okay, so for Reputation. I’m thinking Don’t Blame Me,”

“You did go a bit crazy for Jane…” Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes. You had almost moved to Houston for that girl, thank god you didn’t. You sunburned like nobody's business.

“Oh come on. You just didn’t like the idea of me moving. And considering how long we had been dating at that point it did make sense!” You argued.

“It was 3 months Y/n,” She deadpanned.

“I was in a wlw relationship. That’s like practically three years, it’s not like I brought a u-haul to our first date.”

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow up at you. “Didn’t you have one of those the first time we met?”

“Yeah, because I wasn’t moving into my college apartment without any furniture!”

“Whatever you say, babe. Who's your Folklore?” She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly.

“I think you skipped an album,” you said. This was weird because Lover was one of Alyssa’s favorite albums. “But, since you asked. I think Kelley is The 1.”

“Ah, our favorite squirrel,” Alyssa’s lips ticked up. You and Kelley had dated in college (something that should have made her jealous), but Kelley was the one pushing her to admit her feelings now.

“We were just too young and dumb,” you said, smiling. “We had a great time together, and it would have been fun if it worked out. But at some point we just realized, we were friends, but there wasn’t anything romantic there.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Alyssa said, like a liar.

“I’m not. Her and Emily are like made for each other,” You snorted with the shake of your head. “And at least she wasn’t afraid of the world knowing we were together,”

“Well, yeah,” Alyssa smiled. She had loved seeing the way being publicly out with Kelley had brought out the best of you. “ Okay moving on! Next, we need to narrow down your No body, No Crime.”

“I take offense. Alex is still alive, so that doesn’t count,” You huffed.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I know you didn’t kill any of your significant others,” Alyssa said, laughing. “Though if you listened to the song you would know that’s my job… ”

“Alex was my Champagne Problems,” You mumbled sadly. That relationship had been the hardest for you, as had the breakup. She was terrified of the world even suspecting she wasn’t straight.

You had everything, except the freedom to be yourself, and In the end, you couldn’t take the hiding anymore.

“You did your best, love. But people come out at their own pace. And it was before Obergfell v. Hodges was decided. Being queer was still more likely to be presented as a scandal in the media then.”

“She cheated on me with Serv. She doesn’t get a pass,” You grumbled, crossing your arms.

“I’m pretty sure you were on a break dear,” Alyssa said, though she was inclined to agree with you. Being on a ‘break’ but not officially breaking up didn’t seem like a reason to start dating other people. Still getting over some of the semantics might theoretically help you move on. “BUT maybe we should move on. Who is your Lover?”

Your eyes squinted thoughtfully, a light pink shading your cheeks. “The only person who hasn’t ever left me is you. You let me leave the Christmas lights up until May and dance around the kitchen when you cook.”

Alyssa looked away, not able to meet your eyes. ”I mean, the lights can change color, so they can be thematic all year. And you’re the one who chooses the music to listen to while I cook. I can’t help it if they’re all great for dancing.”

“You can dance to anything. I’m pretty sure you turned a Hosier song into a salsa dance last week.” You giggled.

“The only person I dance with is you, Y/n,” Alyssa said, finally meeting your eyes. She could feel her body start shaking slightly, as the adrenaline kicked in. She was going to do it. She was going to tell you. “I don’t want to dance if I’m not dancing with you.”

“I’d dance with you in a storm in my best dress,”

“I have tried so hard to be supportive about your last several relationships. But seeing you dancing to your favorite song with anyone else… I’ve loved you for three years now and I couldn’t bear it.”

The air was suddenly charged between you, and you realized your faces were just inches apart. It was hard to breathe. You never dreamed your best friend would return your feelings (maybe that’s why you had so many bad relationships).

“Kiss me,” you breathed, slowly moving around so your heads were at the same level.

“That’s not a Taylor swift Lyric,” Alyssa said. In her brain, there was a loading sign currently whirring in little circles, as she attempted to process what you just said. Did you mean what she thought you said?

“Baby just say yes,” You said, feeling so happy that tears were coming to your eyes. You leaned forward getting inches from her face, so close you could feel her breath hitch. “Please kiss me.”

“Yes,” was all Alyssa had time to say before she closed the distance and kissed you.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #alyssa naeher imagine #alyssa naeher x reader

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parkers-gal · 3 years

Note

Can you please write one where the reader is singing about her ex and breaks down crying and Tom comforts her

if you’ve seen the bbc videos of ari g then this will make a lot more sense <3 (i subconsciously chose ag!reader for this so... enjoy)

wc | 1.5k

｡☆✼★━━ requests are closed ━━★✼☆｡

Today, you’ve planned to record every song off of your thank u, next album with BBC radio in the Live Lounge, just as you did years ago with a few songs from sweetener. It’s been almost three years since your number one album came out, and some of the songs are still yet to be performed live.

You love recording with BBC radio — your band and backup singers are just as included as you are, and there’s always a few invited fans up on the balcony to silently sing along. This isn’t the BBC special, considering you didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. But, because you decided to opt out of the television special, you’ve decided to include a few unperformed songs like “in my head” and “ghostin.”

Clad in a black hoodie, faded jeans and thick platform sneakers, you’re seated on the bar stool in front of the microphone stand. The keyboard player sits behind your right side, your backup singers in a studio box beside his set up. To your left is the drummer and two guitar players — one on the bass and the other on the electric guitar.

In front of you, behind the camera lens, seats Tom in his famous shit happens! Hoodie. His curls are messy and he wears a genuine smile, beaming at you while you put in your in-ears.

With a nod to the camera man, you give your final look of approval to the drummer before the camera starts rolling and the intro to “imagine” starts playing. Tom clasps his hands on his lap; he’s sitting cross legged on a shaggy rug with your favorite stuffed animal in his arms. He’s got a blanket beside him despite the fact that he’s perfectly content with his hoodie and jeans. He looks so soft and gentle, and you want nothing more than to sit beside him and sing your heart out, but alas, you stay put and settle on locking eyes with him while you belt the chorus to the first track of your fifth studio album.

Eventually, the song ends, and after successfully doing the whistles, you take a gulp of water before giving the producer another thumbs up. “Needy” plays and you start singing the intro with as much emotion as you can muster — the album makes you nostalgic. You made it during a time of heartbreak and self deprivation, where you were drunk off your ass and all you had was music to therapize yourself. It brings all those emotions back in a rushing flood of remembrance.

But here, in front of you after so much time, you see Tom with a supporting smile and eye dimples that make you want to write a thousand songs about him. You have love you didn’t have before, and that’s enough.

For the first time ever, you perform “in my head” live. You can already tell that twitter is going to flip when the video releases. As you sing the verses, you try to contain up as much consistency as you can, though your voice wavers slightly and you can feel yourself getting emotional. You power through, though, and when the song finally ends, you release a deep breath and drink some water.

Tom mouths a question, wondering if you’re alright. You assure him as best you can, giving him a small smile and a little thumbs up. You have approximately two minutes to compose yourself, seeing as they’ve brought in a few strings players for the next song. You’re singing the album slightly out of order — not that it matters much, but you are.

The producer, who’s behind the camera, gives you another notion with his hands, informing you silently that the next song is starting. You nod, setting down your bottled water and waiting for your cue.

With a shaky inhale, you let the beginning of “ghostin” consume your body. You’ve done this in the studio, when you first recorded the song. But it’s been so long since you've sung the song all the way through. And even then, you’ve never done it publically.

You take a deep breath one last time before you start singing. You see Tom from the corner of your eye, and you remind yourself that everything is okay, and that these wounds are healed and you’ve grown from the tragedy that was captured in your music.

You finish the chorus for the first time, successfully making it through the first verse. Not without a few stumbles and sniffles, though. When you begin on the second verse, everything comes rushing back to you — moments with Mac and moments with Pete, and moments with Pete where you’re grieving Mac and breaking Pete’s heart. It’s all too much at once and you realize you should’ve tried to rehearse it beforehand.

You wince at yourself, face contorting into that of a pained expression while you attempt to prolong the waterworks. You gasp into the microphone, skipping a few beats and a line in the verse to somehow compose yourself.

Everyone seems to be on edge, realizing how this might not play over well. Tom, though, is especially on edge, antsy while he watches you. He’s reading your body language, decoding your silent thoughts. He knows you’re going to break any second, he knows you’re not going to make it through the song, and while that’s okay, he knows you might not think so. He wants to be there, though, when you do break. It’s his job.

Your hands are shaky while you move up to grip the microphone in hopes of reminding yourself of where you are and what you’re doing. It’s a lost cause, though. You gasp into the microphone again, and suddenly you’re sobbing into the speaker.

You mumble out a quick, “I’m sorry,” before rushing out of the room, stepping off the chair and making your way away from the cameras as quickly as possible. You can hear a few gasps and murmurs from the few fans and the stage crew members, but you don’t pay them any mind,

Tom was off his ass as fast as you were, dropping the stuffed toy and racing after you with crazy curls and furrowed brows.

“Love? Love,” his gentle hands grip your arms and you gasp again, trying to breathe through your thick sobs. He shushes you, “It’s alright, baby. I’m here, I’m here, It's just me.”

You’re hidden away in his chest, nodding as best you can. Tom’s heart breaks as he feels you come apart in his hands. He doesn’t cry, though, not when he needs to make sure you’re okay,

Your nimble hands grip his hoodie tightly, balling up the cloth in your fists. Tom holds you carefully, arms around your waist while he tries to help you control your breathing.

“In ‘nd out, like this, yeah?” You nod, following his heavy breaths. “Everything’s gonna be okay.” He sucks in a breath, unsure on how to approach the topic. “You were good enough, baby. Everything that happened isn’t your fault — it never was, and it never will be.”

You peer up at him, lifting your head and wiping your eyes, You sniffle again, and Tom turns his head in hopes of finding a box of tissues. He’s grateful when a crew member is already standing by with a box in his hands. He leaves the two of you be after successfully handing Tom the box.

“Here, love,” he strokes your back with his hand while you blow your nose into the tissue. After a few silent beats, he breaks the quietness. “Y'alright, darling?”

You nod, wiping your nose with the edge of your palm before pulling the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your hands. You use the sleeves to wipe at the stray tears, and when you finally look at Tom, you wearily smile gratefully.

“Thank you, Tommy.” Your voice is timid and gentle, quite a contrast to the way he heard you singing not twenty minutes ago — before “ghostin” fucked with your mind. “Don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“Of course, my love.” He offers a smile, one you slowly return. “You wanna go back out there?”

You nod, silently leading the way while anxiously rubbing your palms on your jean-clad thigh. As soon as you step back into the Live Lounge, a round of applause goes around until everyone is clapping and cheering for you, including Tom. It warms your heart, and you laugh for the first time after crying, right into the microphone for everyone to hear.

“Thank you all so much,” you swallow thickly while the clapping settles down. “I’m so sorry about that. Let's give this another try, yeah?”

The producer mouths something at you, “Are you sure?”

You nod, almost excitedly, and he speaks into his headset. The camera starts rolling and the strings start “ghostin’s” introduction. With one final deep breath, you lock eyes with your sweet British boy right as you start the first verse again. This time, you make it all the way through. For the first time.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x ag!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x celebrity!reader #ag!reader #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction

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funnuraba · 3 years

Text

Quick guide to SAVING LIVEJOURNAL/OTHER FAN CONTENT with THE WAYBACK MACHINE:

(quick note: Tumblr content is honestly much more at risk, so if you have the stomach to try finding things on Tumblr, you can also use this method on that and do some good work)

Uhhh this got long, so look for the bolded parts if you’re not here for a long read lol.

Okay so, at some point, LJ is going under. Or at least all the gay stuff they can find on there. More to the point, PHOTOBUCKET, TINYPIC, IMAGESHACK.... all of those have left huge scars in the records of LJ fandom. So I’ve been using the fact that the Wayback Machine lets you save outlinks if you sign up with the Internet Archive! (Free!)

There’s a Save Page Now function! Good places to use it on include:

Rec lists

People’s masterlists of their own fics/art/meta

Somebody’s well-organized LJ Memories (the page you save needs to contain direct links to the posts you want to save, so if there are sublevels in the Memories you need to go as deep as possible)

community profiles

Every page of a community, if you really feel like it--I’ve been doing this with some small comms, but it’s.... less than feasible with big communities.

Check the “Save Outlinks” button, and the WB will also save links from the page you enter! You can get a lot of stuff at once. Unfortunately there’s a limit on the number of links it’ll grab, but it’s better than nothing. You’ll also see a lot of ERROR!s and it’s annoying. When it’s a Job Failed you can try the page again later.

I don’t know yet how it picks the outlinks to save, so maybe it’s random and you could eventually get all of them by Saving repeatedly??? I’m pretty sure it tries to start at the top, though, because communities with a huge list of tags in their layout are probably not worth your time: I’ve been trying to get stuff from the KKM Fanfic Challenge comm, but.... well, look at it. Trying to save any page with outlinks just picks up a whooooole bunch of those tags on the sidebar, and barely any actual posts. No matter what kind of URL you put in, that sidebar’s always there. You’d have to save each post individually to get every fic. Hope LJ’s not going anywhere fast!

Community profiles are among the most important, because that gives us a lot of info like how many members are left (after years of bleeding users) and how many comments and posts there were in the community! Unfortunately this method is REALLY BAD for art and icons--lots of them are just gone with tinypic and people’s personal LJ albums. Also the WB isn’t good with images in general and there’s no real alternative. But the profiles of icon communities, plus fanfics, meta, stuff like that: a lot of it left to be grabbed! Big main community profiles are best, because they often listed other smaller communities for the same fandom. Saving the big profile with Outlinks will pick up the profile links of all those smaller communities!

Sometimes the big community profiles will just make you sad. Try to soldier on. (If you’re really committing to this, don’t forget that smaller comms will also have even smaller comms listed as affiliates that never made it into the Big Fandom Community’s profile. You can come back later and Save their profiles directly. Sometimes they also have links to fanlistings and other rare things that are also useful to have saved!)

If you can think of a small community, you can also use the method of saving every page, which takes some work and time: you have to save the skip=10 URL, and after that skip=30, skip=50, etc. Then come back later and do skip=20, skip=40, skip=60, etc. The reason for this is that the Wayback Machine will only save one single URL every 30 minutes. So if you’re saving outlinks from skip=30, you’ll also get an incomplete snapshot of skip=20 and skip=40, minus all the important links on skip=20 and skip=40. Obviously, this isn’t much fun and works only with small comms. But it does save a lot of text.

Here’s the type of stuff you’ll get:

a saved PROFILE url: This is good! It saves info about how active a user or community was. In this case it was a user, but the profile is info they chose to put front and center, and the WB isn’t gonna crawl any deeper and grab personal posts from 2004 or anything. (You’ll get a lot of user profiles that aren’t really necessary when using this method.)

a modified POST url: Also good, but you’re gonna get a ton of duplicates on these due to how many different ways LJ would link to a single post. The style=mine doesn’t alter the content. You’ll also see lots of “#cutid1″, which of course is the link left by an LJ-cut. That’s fine, it gets the post. The content of posts 82379 is safe! (but NOT all the nested comments!)

a comment link (in this case dreamwidth which isn’t in danger, but the same format): This saved both the post itself (79392) and a comment thread (131360). You probably can’t get every comment thread just because the WB is bad at unfolding LJ threads, but this does contain the post itself. If you don’t see the plain post URL itself in the list of saved URLS once WB is done saving outlinks, but you do see a comment link: that comment link also has the original post! You don’t need to keep trying!

a journal’s tag link: This is less useful. It saves a snapshot of the tag page itself, but nothing deeper. Any content under an LJ cut or in the comments is not saved. There’s no way to keep these from saving, though. Just keep in mind, that tag in the picture doesn’t mean that the fics this person linked to have been saved. You’ll have to enter the tag link URL itself into the Wayback Machine’s SAVE page for that.

ERROR! JOB FAILED.: These are annoying! Most likely nothing was saved. Unless a comment link was successfully saved, you’ll have to copy-paste the URL that failed and put it into the SAVE page.

LIVE PAGE IS NOT AVAILABLE: There’s nothing you can do unless this URL was already saved somewhere.

BUT WHAT ABOUT IMAGES????

The passage of time means it’s probably too late. Imageshack and Tinypic took out a huge chunk of images on LJ, and PhotoBucket tried to make people pay them by putting big ol’ watermarks on all pictures except those hosted by premium users. It didn’t work and they said sorry, but the watermarks are still there. Lol. If you right-click +Open image in new tab, the watermark goes away, but who wants to do that with every single image? Also, the Wayback Machine sucks with big images and there’s no alternative at the moment.

If you’re lucky enough to find some holy grail like a big post of 1000 icons hosted on someone’s premium Photobucket, you could save a snapshot of the page. Wayback Machine lets you check that as an option, but IF YOU SAVE A SNAPSHOT WITH A TOOL LIKE “GoFullPage”: I find that GoFullPage, at least, will save you a big long image with no Photobucket watermarks! But you’ll have to save that image yourself, or store it somewhere, so keep that in mind.

Also, the snapshot means no animated gifs--although if you want to save those, they’ll be tiny little LJ icon gifs, so pretty easy to store on your own computer.

#fanlore #fandom preservation #is that a tag #livejournal #wayback machine #just gonna add as a tag that i'm trying to avoid doing this with comms where everyone was clearly about 13 #let's let them have the privacy of vanishing into the ether someday

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beautiful-and-terrible · 3 years

Text

dazed ’n’ confused (part 2)

A/N: omg this part was so much longer than i ancitipated sorry T__T and i promise in part 3 we will get some fun stuff ;)

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x OFC

Warnings: none (for this chapter)

---

The whole day, Nicole was distracted. She sat in her lifeguard chair, biting her nails, eyes concealed by her sunglasses and gazing at nothing. The pool manager ended up telling her off because she let multiple people dive off the board at the same time. She was a mess on the way home, too. She stopped at her favorite gas station to get slushy and almost left her bike behind, aimlessly wandering toward her house before she remembered she hadn’t walked there in the first place.

She got home and hopped in the shower, rinsing off the sunscreen and sweat, trying to forget how warm Rodrick’s hands felt under her own, how she had been close enough to smell laundry detergent and cinnamon gum. His dark eyes and full lips.

She almost slipped getting out of the shower.

She tried to write music and get him off her mind, but all of her songs ended up sounding sad and sappy or slow and sultry. It was maddening.

The next day, Saturday, Nicole woke up more irritated than usual. She normally wasn’t a morning person, but this was next level. She did her makeup quickly and threw her hair into a pair of messy french braids. She decided to treat herself to an ice coffee, so she grabbed her wallet and headed outside to her bike.

Despite it being 9:30 in the morning, Rodrick was already outside… mowing grass? Nicole had never once seen him do that before. Giving him a short wave, she coasted down her driveway and headed into town toward the Starbucks.

As she stopped at the sign at the end of their street, she looked back. Rodrick was looking in her direction, but Nicole shook away the thought that he could’ve been staring. She looked both ways quickly before pedaling quicker than she had before.

The Starbucks was about a 20 minute bike ride from her house, and Nicole usually took this time to listen to a podcast or her favorite album. This morning, she chose “Dr. Feelgood” by

Motley Crue - she was a sap, sue her. She liked to remember the little things about people. She definitely recognized the chord progressions and drum patterns replicated in Loded Diper’s songs - at least, the songs that she had heard muffled through the garage door as she hung her head out her window to listen.

A short time later, Nicole hopped off her bike and locked it in place, skipping with anticipation for the sweetest, creamiest ice coffee she could get her little hands on. She walked up to the cashier, browsing the menu quickly.

“Hi, Welcome to Starbucks - what can I get started for you?”

“I’ll do a iced caramel macchiato with almond milk and light ice, please.”

“For sure, anything else?”

“No, thanks,” Nicole said, pulling out a five dollar bill and some ones.

“Hey, aren’t you new in town? You came into school at the end of the semester.”

Nicole looked up at the cashier, just now noticing what she looked like. She was cute in a pixie, petite kind of way, with short brown hair and big green eyes. If Nicole hadn’t been so enamored with Rodrick, she probably would’ve developed a big whopping crush on this girl, too.

“Yeah, I’m Nicole. You go to PVH, too?”

“I’m Caitlin - we were in bio together, I think.” Nicole wracked her brains, thinking back to the last bit of school she could remember.

“Oh, right, we partnered up a couple times.” Nicole said, smiling.

“Hey, if you want, a couple of friends and I are having a party tonight. You should come,” Caitlin said, flashing a dimpled smile. Nicole felt her tummy flip - mostly from excitement, and the elation of feeling included by her peers.

“For sure, just text me the number.” Nicole wrote down her number on a hot beverage sleeve and slid it towards Caitlin.

“Cool, see you then. Oh, and your drink will be right over there.”

“Thanks.”

Biting her lip to keep from grinning like a crazy person, Nicole moved down the divided counter to wait for her drink. The whole bike ride home she couldn’t help thinking that maybe moving to this town wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The day ended up not being as horrifically hot as yesterday, and Nicole’s mood had improved significantly after a heavy dose of caffeine.

But, when she rounded the corner back onto her street, Rodrick was still outside, mowing the lawn. And lord have mercy, for such a skinny looking boy, he had some seriously toned arms. Nicole almost crashed her bike into the curb, narrowly avoiding spilling her drink all over herself. She rode past him up her own driveway without acknowledging him, even though this time he was the one who waved to her. Payback for flaunting his ridiculous arms in front of her at 10:30 in the morning.

She went inside to change into her bathing suit and the usual denim shorts she wore over them. She didn’t need to leave for work for another hour, so she plugged her electric guitar into the amp in her room and fiddled around with learning some Motley Crue riffs that she remembered from her morning bike ride. Nicole wasn’t a prodigy by any means, but she had been playing guitar for long enough that she knew the basic chord structure of most of their popular songs.

As she stood up to slip on her black converse, she saw her phone had lit up with a text. Unknown number.

“Hey, its Caitlin :) the address is 460 Norfolk Drive. Party starts @ 10!”

Nicole did a little dance. “Cool, I’ll be there :)” she texted back, and ran down the stairs back to the garage to get her bike again. She was so excited by the idea of hanging out with people her age that she almost didn’t see Rodrick leaning against his own bike at the end of her driveway.

“Your lawn looks good,” Nicole teased as she rode by. If Rodrick had any snarky reply, she was gone before she heard it. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw him standing with his mouth agape. She laughed to herself before starting her regular route to the city pool.

Not long after she started her shift, perched in her lifeguard chair with the umbrella angled to deflect the worst of the sun, Rodrick showed up with his two friends. They seemed to be attached at the hip. One was shorter than Rodrick, with long, surfer-style blonde hair, and one was about Rodrick’s height, with short dark hair and a cool slit in his eyebrow.

Nicole was glad her sunglasses were dark enough to not see her eyes, because she definitely would’ve been caught staring by now. Rodrick wasn’t muscular by any means, or athletic, but there was still something cute and boyish about his gangly frame, and the way his shoulder muscles flexed when he took his shirt off was… for lack of a better word, distracting.

The first couple of hours passed uneventfully, and Nicole started to doze in her chair, chin propped up on her hand. The combination of warm sun and cool breeze lull her into a half-awake state. It was adult swim, so there weren’t any kids to worry about. She could close her eyes for a few minutes and…

She heard him before she saw him. The signature sound of the diving board being bounced once, twice, and then…

Nicole was doused in freezing cold water.

The huge splash covered both sides of the pool, high enough to reach her in her life guard chair. Moaning with displeasure, Nicole wrenched her sunglasses off her face and pointed an accusing finger at the grinning boy in the water. Fucking Rodrick.

“You’re dead, you little shit.” Nicole growled, and left her sunglasses on the seat of her lifeguard chair before diving in the pool.

The cool water enfolded her, silky and calm, before she came up under Rodrick and unleashed all hell. Still under water, she grabbed his ankles to pull him down. She heard his shout of alarm before it transformed into bubbles.

Underwater, her vision was blurred, but Nicole could still see Rodrick laughing and the dark outline of his eyes. She found herself laughing too as they briefly wrestled and tried to drag the other farther underwater before they both broke the surface, gasping for air.

“Okay, okay mercy,” Rodrick gasped as Nicole wound her arms around his neck in a headlock.

“Stay off the diving board, or I’ll make you drink the kiddy pool water.”

“Oh my god, kids pee in there!”

“Exactly,” Nicole laughed before shoving him away, though it wasn’t very aggressive considering the water softened the blow. Rodrick was still laughing behind her.

“Damn, if I get that kind of a reaction every time I jump in the pool, maybe I’ll do it for a living,” he called after her.

Nicole dunked her head under water once more to adjust her hair before climbing out of the deep end on the latter, electing to ignore that last comment. Now that she was back in her life guard chair, she couldn’t believe how impulsive she had been. Some kind of instinct took over and before she knew it, she had been flying out of her chair to give Rodrick a taste of his own medicine.

And now that she was thinking about it even more, the more embarrassed she became. Oh God, had she been super obvious? And more than that, had she been unprofessional?

She looked around the pool to see if her manager was watching - luckily, no sign of him. Most of the other pool guests weren’t paying that much attention either, except Rodrick’s friends, who were still laughing hysterically as Rodrick dried himself off by shaking his hair like a wet dog.

Nicole had touched more of Rodrick than she had the other day when they accidentally touched hands. Way more of him. Not that she exactly remembered the feeling of every limb, but the contact still made her feel more than a little weak in the knees.

They didn’t even know each other that well! What was she thinking!

Nicole spent the rest of her shift biting her nails anxiously, and when her co-worker came to switch chairs she ran to hide in the employee lounge next to the girls bathrooms.

By the time five o’clock came, she had calmed down a little bit, but was still embarrassed by her frankly juvenile behavior. She helped clean up the pool area by hosing it down and picked up some left over trash before heading to her bike.

And, because Nicole had maybe the worst (or best, it was hard to say) luck in the world, Rodrick was waiting for her.

“Figured I could ride home with you, since you like being near me so much,” Rodrick called as she approached. Nicole groaned, rolling her eyes.

“I wouldn’t have to get near you if you didn’t a) act like a child, and b) violate pool rules.”

“I’m pretty sure “almost drawing a patron” counts as violating pool rules, Nikky.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nicole spat with no real heat behind it.

“If you’re gonna ride home with me, you’re gonna pay for my slushy,” Nicole called over her shoulder as she started pedaling away.

“Ooo, is this a date?” Rodrick laughed, and Nicole flipped him off without looking. “C’mon, I thought we were getting along since I fixed your tire?”

Nicole, tired of the banter and not able to think of a better response, decided to take mercy on him.

“No… no. We’re cool. I’d rather have my dumb neighbor as a friend than no one at all.”

Rodrick pulled up next to her on his bike, tongue peeking between his teeth as he tried to suppress a grin. “Yeah, you seem cool. At least, your music taste isn’t completely horrible.”

“Oh, and yours is perfect, I’m assuming?”

“Naturally,” Rodrick said, pedaling faster to pull a wheelie in front of her, obviously trying to show off. In all honesty, it was a pretty cool trick - but Nicole would never tell him that. The evening was cooling down, but the sun was still a couple hours from setting, so everything had a deep golden glow - the trees seemed greener, and the grass softer, and random birds would occasionally chirp from deep within the woods. The world felt alive and wonderful and terribly, terribly exciting.

“So, why the hell did you move to Plainview?” Rodrick asked.

“Wasn’t like it was my choice. My Dad got a new job, and my Mom works from home so she can take care of us - so me and my two little sisters just got the short end of the straw.”

“You have sisters?”

“Yeah, Caroline and Georgia. Do you have siblings?”

Rodrick rolled his eyes, “Yeah, two shit head little brothers, Greg and Manny. Well, Manny isn’t really a shit head, ‘cause he’s like three, but I know he will be once he hits four.”

Nicole laughed. They were nearing the gas station she liked to get slushies from, so she suddenly started pedaling faster and yelled behind her, “First one there buys!”

She narrowly made it there before him, laughing at his red face and shaking legs as he dismounted his bike.

“No one should be that fast,” he panted, but smiled as he opened the door for her.

The blast of air conditioning felt good on Nicole’s heated skin, and she made a B-line for the slushy machine.

“Blue raspberry is the obvious best choice,” Nicole said, filling her cup up to the brim.

“No way, cherry is the only valid flavor,” Rodrick said, already munching on a bag of sour gummy worms. She raised an eyebrow at him and he simply winked in response, causing Nicole to turn her head away when she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

Rodrick paid for their stuff and they spent the rest of the bike ride home trying to throw gummy worms at each other and catch them in their mouths.

“So.. there's a van. Outside your house. With your band name on it,” Nicole said, pointedly looking at him. Rodrick looked straight ahead.

“Yeah.”

“And yet, you’re out here riding your bike. With me.”

“Yeah.”

“So what's the hold up? You don’t have your license yet or something?”

“I can drive!” Rodrick said indignantly, his voice cracking slightly, causing you to throw your head back in laughter.

“I’m saving up money to get it fixed,” he grumbled, pulling another wheelie.

“Doing tricks won’t distract me from this, Rodrick.

“Fine. Once its fixed, I’ll take you for a ride, deal?”

“Deal,” Nicole said primly, taking a sip of her slushy.

Sooner than she thought, they ended up in front of their respective homes. The time had flown by - she hadn’t even noticed they were close.

She was about to wave goodbye and turn to go up her driveway when Rodrick cleared his throat.

“Hey, um… my band and I - we’re having practice tonight. Again. We have a gig later this week so we wanna practice as much as possible. Uhm. Would you wanna stop by? You can bring your guitar or whatever,” he said, looking down at his shoes that he was currently scuffing against the sidewalk.

“How do you know I play guitar?”

Somehow, Rodrick looked even more sheepish. “Uh, you left your window open, earlier. When you were practicing.”

This time, Nicole was the one to blush. Fuck. She hadn’t even thought about any one being able to hear her. And after Rodrick told her Loded Diper was originally a Motley Crue cover band.... Oh, he definitely knew she was whipped. Fuck!

“Haha, oh, yeah… uh, sure. I can come over.”

Rodrick grinned - a genuinely excited smile, not his usual impish smirk. It made Nicole’s heart stutter in her chest.

“Come over in an hour - I’ll get snacks.”

Nicole turned away without another word, deciding they would have plenty more to say to each other very soon. But fucking hell, what was she going to wear?

#rodrick heffley #rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x original female character #rodrick heffley x ofc

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