#20 years old gossip no less

[charlidos]

Since I'm going through everything about Viggo & Orlando anyway, I might as well bring out the gossip that used to surround them. I don't put a lot of trust in blind items from Ted at E!Online and it's impossible to know if he actuallly had any real intel, or if it was just idle gossip about popular celebs. But it does say one thing for certain: that this was something people talked about back then (in 2004, mostly). That it wasn't just the "Viggorli tinhats" talking. And that, in itself, is interesting.

And I think it's beyond doubt that it WAS Orlando and Viggo that he was talking about here. Regardless if the gossip was true.

From 2004:

We still need to zero in on Grimy Gus and Harland Fuss (or as they're known to their most secretive of buds, Gussy 'n' Fussy). G. 'n' F. have been on location recently. Well, one of them has, at least. Don't think too many folks know that Fuss has joined his good bud Gus for a little mattress messin'. Look, I'm the first to give a hearty shout-out to two guys who want to do what they want, sexually speaking. But when both--all right, make that one--of these men go to great lengths to make the public believe he's bedding down with rising supersweet starlet Eartha Bertha, well then, I get a little pissy. Although it sure was romantic when Gus 'n' Fuss went to such a Secret Service-defying to-do while Gus was out of the States (in a film-friendly environment) making his latest butch-it-up celluloid job. Public lobby and elevator trips at the sumptuous Springtime Suites hotel with Fuss 'n' Eartha were arranged. Photographers just happened to be around, sorta the same way Rock Hudson lived his whole fake life. But I'm getting terribly off the point here, aren't I?

At this time, Orlando was (very) publically dating "starlet" Kate B, and Viggo was filming History of Violence (playing a "butch" character) in Canada. And they were both at the Toronto film festival that year, where this supposed secret romp happened. Also, the nicknames seems to refer to the whole "Prissy elf" and "Filthy human" thing they had going on the set of LotR. And during LotR PR, there was very inane gossip about Viggo seeing L, a woman around O's age, but that they broke up because V didn't care about his personal hygiene. If you look at gossip rags from around 2002-3, it was mentioned a lot...

So yeah, no doubt that it's O, V and K referred to. It's generally considered a "solved" blind. Again, doesn't mean the gossip is true.

In 2010, Ted mentioned HF again, just around when Orlando got married. In this one, there's no mention of "Gus", so of less interest to me. It's all about HF being bi, and how he and his newly wedded wife got hitched because they both needed a career boost (and HF needing a "beard"). A whole lot of nothing really. But again, quite obviously referring to Orlando.

More interesting to me, but also a bit more confounding, are some questions answered around 2009/2010:

Dear Ted: Since you dusted off the old Harland Fuss B.V., can you give us an update on his relaysh with Gus, please? Are they still together? If not, who broke up with whom? And who is Fussy seeing on the DL, then, if not Gussy? —Agusta Dear Gus Who: Long over, babe. Too bad, too, because they were way too hot together, but it was always more of a short-term (very) steamy hookup sitch. Neither dude expected a serious relaysh to come of it, just sex, sex and, oh yeah, more sex. Dear Ted: This is a question about an old blind item that I don't expect you'll answer but I thought I'd give it a shot. Are Harland Fuss and Grimy Gus still together? —Silver Dear Oldie: No. Nor were they ever. Dear Ted: Has Viggo Mortensen ever been a B.V.? I absolutely love him, and he did spend several years with those B.V.-worthy Hobbits in Middle Earth. Did they rub off on him? —LOTR Lover Dear Viggo Go Go: Oh, yeah. One of my (and readers') all-time favorites!

Again, quite clear this blind item was about Orlando and Viggo. This idea that they were just meeting to hook up, short-term (not sure if it's short term as in short meetings, or if it's short in terms of how long this relationship went on), feels a bit off for these two. But it fits that they lost touch (as per Orlando himself) sometime after 2008 or so. And what do I know, really?

No one but them knows. I'm just here, speculating wildly and letting my imagination run free.

(And I looks like I need to keep posting about them - until I've completely exhausted the subject. Or myself. Or tumblr.)

[l-uminescent]

˚⁀➷｡˚GOD OF OLD VALYRIA ━━━ DAERON TARGARYEN X FEM! READER

synopsis: cregan stark's sister (reader) is sent to king's landing in order to find a suitable marriage arrangement. after a year however, you start to lose hope at finding a betrothed. that is, until the king announces the arrival of his youngest son daeron targaryen.

notes: hello! i have yet to see many daeron one shots or fics so i’ve decided to try. and as usual, i have aged him up to about 19/20. requests are also welcome bc i’m running out of ideas 😭

warnings: don’t think there is any apart from my rusty writing bc i have not written anything in years and most likely some spelling mistakes

word count: 1.8k

BEING CREGAN STARK'S YOUNGER SISTER PROVED ITSELF TO BE BOTH A BLESSING AND A CURSE. with the death of his wife arra, and being left with a son to raise by himself cregan struggled to find the time to find a suitable suitor to have as your lord husband as you came of age. the result of this, meant you being sent off to king's landing in hopes that the queen  consort, could provide help with finding you a husband. it's not like you minded being sent off to the capital, you were keen to explore the south after having lived in the north for the entirety of your life. but after being in the red keep for almost a year, you were becoming less and less confident at the queen's promise to your brother that she would find you a betrothed.

however, that was all soon to change with the arrival of daeron targaryen from oldtown.

it was his elder brother aemond, who informed you of daeron's arrival from oldtown after having been sent away years ago to squire for the hightower family. despite aemond's  intimidating aura and the obvious anger he holds within, you two often found solace with each other in the library as it appeared neither of you had many friends around the castle. tucked away, reading books on the history of the north, and that of the previous targaryen kings and queens, aemond often sat near, as he too enjoyed your presence as much you he.

today, he explained that there was to be a feast held in the throne room, at daeron's arrival as he had not been in the red keep for quite some time. your presence was to be required at the feast for some reason unbeknownst to you (but not to aemond's, who was aware of his mother's plotting).

rushing back to your chambers after waving your friend goodbye and thanking him for the information he told, your stomach began to knot as the feeling of nervousness took hold. you had heard stories of the youngest targaryen, of his beauty, how his silver hair fell shorter than his brothers, barely covering his eyes. you often heard gossip that the price frequently made the girls of the realm swoon if they were to ever encounter the boy in oldtown. if the rumours that circled around the red keep were to be believed, than it was also said that daeron targaryen was the most popular of the king and queen's sons. as well as his beauty, you had heard that he was an outspoken and witty boy, a skilled swordsman and returned the kindness that was given to him.

brushing away these thoughts, you began to wash  and paint you face with many creams and serums, until doting yourself as presentable to the targaryen family. you called on a maid to help you with your hair and dress. no matter the time you spent in the south, you were never one to forget your northern roots which often reflected in the clothes you wore and the hairstyle that adorned your head. black dire wolves, were subtly sewn onto your grey dress, a direct nod at your stark lineage, showing how proud you were of it and your hair was twisted and braided until it reflected that of what you so commonly wore in winterfell.

as the maid finished helping you ready, the nervous feeling once again made home in the pit of your stomach. deciding it was time to make your  way to the feast, your hands found themselves fidgeting with the rings on your fingers that were lovingly gifted to you by your mother father and brother, (family heirlooms that once again showed your pride of the north) in an attempt to calm your anxiety.

you still could not fathom where this sudden wave of nervousness came from. you had met the other two targaryen boys, even the three velayrons that had moved away to dragonstone a mere week after your arrival,  and this skittish demeanour was nowhere to be found back then.

taking a deep shaky breath and swallowing, willing your hands to stop fidgeting you walked through the doors to where the feast was to be held, making a beeline straight to where you usually sat. ignoring the piercing glare of a pair of indigo eyes that you were unused to, you bowed to the king and queen before taking your seat, still refusing to meet  the eyes that looked upon you intently.

"it is my greatest pleasure to announce the return of my youngest son daeron" king viserys announced. even in his sickly state the pride he had for his youngest son was not mistaken, making it painstakingly obvious who the favourite child was (second to rhaeynra of course.)

as he continued, you could not help but notice the soft look alicent had gave you. you had heard the rumours of how unkind the woman was before your arrival yet, she did everything in her power to make you feel comfortable during your stay. almost as if this was her second shot at motherhood.

you did not need to wonder for long what she had meant by the look this time before viserys continued his speech. "and to announce his betrothal to the lady of house stark."

at that moment you did not care if the shock in your face was evident  as your mind raced at a hundred miles an hour at the news. feeling your heart pump faster, a bright crimson appear on your cheeks as the entire table had turned to look at you. the  embarrassment at the attention you faced had soon turned to rage at the thought of your brother cregan not warning you of the news to have allowed yourself to mentally prepare. you cursed your brother for that. yet it soon faded and was once again replaced with anxiety as you remembered the boy beside you was the man you were now betrothed to.

you could not help the thought of this being failing marriage, one that was doomed from the start. your northern customs differed heavily from that of the royals in the south and you were afraid that it would offend your betrothed. you barely knew the man, there was no telling that he was as kind as you had heard, for all you knew one simple argument and he could feed you to his beloved dragon tessarion.

willing yourself to calm down, you took a shaky breathe before twisting your head to the side, finally allowing yourself to look at the boy that had been the cause for your nerves the past few hours. you had to hand it to the gossips of the court, the boy was handsome. with a sharp jawline and piercing indigo eyes staring into your plain ones you felt your face heat as his eyes continued to hold yours. taking in his features you noted that his hair, fell perfectly to his eyebrows, and a small scar ran down the left side of his lip. he was absolutely mesmerising. you had always been skeptical at the idea of targaryen's being closer to gods than men, but in that moment you believed.

daeron targaryen looked as if he was a god from old, straight from valyria.

you found the knot in your stomach grow and tension find it's home in your shoulders at this revelation as you struggled for words to say to your betrothed,  feeling unworthy in the presence of true targaryen beauty. your belief of the old gods wavering in favour of the valyrian ones, every time your eyes caught his.

you only prayed he was as kind as he was good looking.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

"mother, i will accompany lady stark back to her room." it wasn't until the meal had ended when you had heard his voice for the first time. if you weren't nervous before than by the  gods you were now. with your heart rate elevated your fingers found the rings adorning your hands again, fiddling with them as you stood to be guided back to your chambers by the youngest prince. his voice perfectly matching the god like features of his face, melting like honey as every syllable reached you ear. you were truly enamoured with the targaryen boy.

with a bow to both the king and queen you and daeron had left, an awkward silence following as the words you wanted to say dying on your tongue every time you glanced out the corner of your eye at him. once again, blood rushed to your cheeks as the boy turned to you. "you don't have to be scared of me you know, my lady." he smirked. by the love of the gods, you prayed the answer that left your mouth did not make the embarrassment you felt worsen.

"i believe i have a right to my fear, my prince, seeing as your dragon lays only a hill away from where we stand."

at this, daeron let out a laugh, wondering where the shyness from the feast had gone. "well my lady, tessarion isn't as scary as she seems. maybe one day we shall go out riding."

"i would like that indeed my prince." you returned, smiling at the thought of him allowing you to meet his most precious creature. you had always wondered what a dragon had looked like up close, let alone to ride. the mere suggestion of it showed that maybe this marriage wasn't doomed after all. "well here is my chambers. thank you for walking me back."

the two of you turned to face each other now, allowing you to take in the entirety of his face. and by gods you were even more starstruck than before. in the torch lit corridor of the red keep, he seemed even prettier — truly a god of old valyria.

"goodnight my lady." daeron breathed out, seemingly as entranced as you were with him. the piercing indigo roaming about your entire face as he believed you would disappear if he even for a moment looks away. he had encountered many beautiful strangers in his time at oldtown, had read many history books that described creatures as beautiful as gods and angels. yet no matter how many detailed accounts he had read of valyria, how enchanting those who had lived before the doom were, and how he had inherited this fairness from his ancestors , in that moment he swore he had never met anyone as more beautiful as you. how you took pride in where you came from with the northern rings and stitching on your dress. how your hair was held with clips that were clearly heirlooms of the stark family. he was in awe.

"goodnight my prince." you whispered, pressing a small tender kiss to the side of his porcelain skin before turning to your chambers.

to daeron targaryen, you too were a god of old valyria

[niceboyeds]

but daddy i love him (e.m)

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: sometimes you have to put the gossipers in their place, and sometimes you have to give them something to talk about. inspired by none other than the masterpiece that is The Tortured Poets Department!

contains: bullying, fluff, language, sexual innuendos if you squint, i think that's it but please reach out if i missed anything!

word count: 1.2K

a/n: hi babies I'm baaaack! with that said I'm rusty so please don't hurt my feelings lmao. i have an idea for a smutty pt. 2 if enough of you want it! okay here we go...

(tagging some mutuals so i don’t get lost in the blackhole: @luvmunson @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @munsonology @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @espressomunson 🫶)

masterlist

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

there was always something exciting about being with a bad boy. but then again, there was nothing “bad” about Edward Munson. he may get a bad rap but, aside from his lunchbox goodies, he is a gentleman before anything else. and a damn good lover. 

you sit in the diner with your friends, snickers and snide remarks could be heard all throughout the room and dozens of eyes burn into the back of your head for what felt like the millionth time. unfortunately that’s one of the prices to pay living in a small town like Hawkins.

Eddie is better than you, though, and doesn’t let it get the best of him. and while you know you could never physically fight someone, you still aren’t shy enough to threaten it. you are, to put it gently, less “reserved” with your words, and make sure to put the lonely housewives and their preppy children in their place about their assumptions of him. 

things have gotten worse as your dating life has expanded out beyond the four walls of Eddie’s quaint trailer or the few friendly drunks at the hideout once a week. you and Eddie both craved being together in public and decided long ago that you don’t care who has something to say about it. 

besides, you know who the real Edward Munson is, you don’t believe what the judgmental church-goers or ex-cheerleaders think of you. the only time it gets you is when you can see it hurting him. 

throughout lunch you keep one hand in his, feeling him tense up every so often when he hears his name come out of their mouths. 

“i wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak!” you hear from a group of your old classmates’ table followed by an eruption of laughter. 

Eddie squeezes your hand three times before letting go, scooting his chair out from the table and excusing himself to the restroom. the friends at your table all look to you for the next move, enough looks of defeat for you to end this once and for all. with a soft smile, you throw a $20 bill on the table and rise from your seat. 

“sorry guys.” you sigh, motioning for them to gather their things to leave as you push in your chair and make your way to the table across the room. Dustin trots his way to the restroom to grab Eddie as you hear Robin say your name softly, urging you to leave it be but everyone knows you can’t.

“hey guys! how are you?” you beam at your old friends, doing your best to smile at them. “Stacy, Lauren, Molly…” you exaggerate her name, informing her you heard her comment loud and clear. 

mumbles of good’s and small nods emit from them and their eyes bounce to one another nervously. “aw that’s so good to hear!” you beam, “i’m doing great too, in case you were curious. ya know, i couldn’t help but overhear you guys chatting over here and i just felt like i needed to come say hi.” their smiles drop immediately as you talk, and you let them sit in their fear of what you’ll say next. 

“yeah, you know what they say… once a bitch always a bitch, right?” silence fills the diner and you hear Max cough to cover her giggle at the door. 

“i’m sorry?” Lauren scoffs, genuinely unable to comprehend the fact that you might be putting them in their place. 

“aw, you should be. because let’s face it, it’s pretty embarrassing that we graduated years ago and you still act like this.” you look at them with pure disgust, knowing they haven’t changed in the slightest. you speak with confidence, your tone still friendly, “and to think you used to truly care for me.”

“w-we do still care for you. we just want what’s best for you.” Stacy chirps as the other two nod along with her.

“what’s best for me? pretending like you’re all some fucking saints walking around and saying you’re praying for me to ‘come to my senses’ as if i have no control over my own life? who i love is my choice, so save your prayers for yourself because you’re the most judgmental creeps i’ve ever met.”

you turn to leave, your sweet group of friends still standing by the door waiting for you, Eddie having joined them just in the heat of your argument. reaching for his hand, you crack open the door and turn one last time to their table. 

“and by the way? i’m having his baby!” their eyes widen with horror and their mouths fall agape as you follow Eddie through the door and giggle, skipping to be directly next to him.  

“woah, woah, woah?! you’re pregnant??” Steve asks, genuinely unsure as you laugh at his question. 

“no, i’m not. but oh my god did you see their faces??” 

Eddie chuckles alongside you, and you feel relieved he’s made light of the situation along with you. “yeah, not yet.”

~~~~~~~~

you sit on the couch with Eddie seated directly in front of you on the shaggy carpet. one by one you twirl his messy curls into ringlets with an unfathomable amount of hair products. you feel his once tense body relax against your knees as he twiddles with the frayed pieces of your blue jeans. 

“it’s true, y’know…” he says softly, barely above a whisper. 

“what’s that?” you ponder, curious more-so as to why his tone has saddened during your comfortable silence.

“what they all say. that you’d be better off with someone else- someone other than me..?”

“no, i don’t think they know what the hell they’re talking about.” your hands continue to work on his hair, with only a few sections left you couldn’t allow yourself to leave it be. But you continue to reassure him. 

“Eds, i don’t care that they think i shouldn’t be with you. i want to be with you. I love you. isn’t that what matters? not what all these bored-ass people think, but what we want?” 

“you… you love me?” he turns his head to face you once you drop the final curl back against his head. an ear to ear grin plastered on his face and his eyebrows wiggle. 

“of course i love you, silly. i love you more than i have the words to express.” you tell him truthfully, knowing in your heart that he is the man for you. 

“i love you too. i love you so fucking much.” 

he stands up from his crouching position, pulling you up from the couch with him. your lips instinctively crash into his. 

you interlock your fingers around his neck, trying to bring him closer to you as if you weren’t already impossibly close to him. you sloppily kiss each other before you pull away from him, a small string of saliva still connecting you to him as your lips separate. 

“eww!” you laugh, before pulling him by the hand and dragging him down the hallway to his bedroom. “come on, slow poke!”

“hey! i thought you said you weren’t having my baby.” he teased, bringing up the silly comment you had said earlier at the diner. 

“yeah, not yet.”

[vintagetvstars]

Claude Rains Vs. William Hopper

Propaganda

Claude Rains - (Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Wagon Train, Rawhide) - "The reason I got into Old Hollywood and started studying theatre and film! He's such a little cutie as well as a smoking hot, velvet voiced morsel of evil - he's that good and can play both so easily!..." text propaganda continued below the cut.

William Hopper - (Perry Mason) - "Why do I love him? The list abounds..." text propaganda continued below the cut.

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Claude Rains:

While he might be more famous for his movie roles(like Casablanca, The Invisible Man, Lawrence of Arabia, Now, Voyager, and Mr. Skeffington to name a few!), he was also a television star in his own right! He had lots of guest spots on various shows but in the tv-realm, he's probably the most well known for his work for "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" and was a frequent collaborator with Hitch himself, having the spotlight for five episodes! My favorite tv performance of his was playing Father Amion in the episode "The Horseplayer", where he plays the kindest priest who gets taken for a ride and it's so heartbreaking to see him in tears where he confesses that it's his fault the church's funds were used for less than better means (but it all works out in the end!). It's such an honest performance and it's a refreshing change from all his evil villians (but we love them anyway!) he'd done in the past. Another favorite performance of mine is his performance as Leonard Eldridge in the episode "The Door Without a Key", a seemingly amnesiac old man who makes a bond with a lost boy in a police station. They're adorable together and I found myself tearing up a little when they both confess how lonely they are in the world.

William Hopper -

William Hopper was a tall guy (6'3"!) but such a gentle sweetheart. He was in acting for the majority of his life (barring serving as a frogman in WWII and working as a car salesman post-war for a few years), but he really stepped into his own with his role as Private Detective Paul Drake in the Perry Mason TV Series from 1957-1966. William Hopper actually didn't really love the Hollywood scene, mostly because he grew up with it since he was a child. His mother was Hedda Hopper and she really wanted him to be an actor and became quite overbearing about it, but he was more of an introverted soul. He first started out in films in his early 20s, but William Hopper always felt like people were giving him jobs because of his mother's influence with her gossip column. HOWEVER, after the war and after William Hopper sold cars for a few years, he came back to acting but he said he was only going to come back if 1) he did it his way/gave himself to it and 2) his mother stayed out of his career so he could make it on his own. Those two things happened, and William Hopper made his own way.

His big major starring role in a television series was, without a doubt, Perry Mason. He was Private Detective Paul Drake. To take on that role, William Hopper personally went out and made friends with Private Detectives to try to bring their experiences to his role. William Hopper also was credited by Alan Alda for showing the acting world how to shine as an actor without demanding the spotlight all the time. Alda said: “William Hopper’s ability to be present in a scene without demanding the spotlight is an art form in itself. He showed us that one can shine without the blinding glare.” Which, I think, really was a big testament to William Hopper playing a private detective--- he was always commanding the series and making the moves and observations that led to finding the guilty person in a criminal case, but he was always doing so in a way that was true to the work of a private detective: hiding and working in plain sight.

Other fun facts about William Hopper that make him so lovable: he LOVED the beach and loved fishing and swimming. When he wasn't filming for Perry Mason (they would film 6 days a week for 1 episode during filming), William Hopper would go to the beach. According to an interview, William Hopper's personal wardrobe was mostly casual clothes: swim trunks, sandals, and sweatshirts. He took all his formal wear to the Perry Mason set and just kept it there to wear when he played Paul Drake. He said if he ever had to go to a formal occasion, he would just go drive to the Perry Mason set and pick out one of his outfits. But the formal wear he had was bold! He wore houndstooth jackets, various checked patterns, and herringbone. If he wasn't at the beach, he loved to go to baseball games. In school, he played sports: swimming, baseball, boxing, and basketball.

he's the guy on the far left - I know his face is hard to see here but I'm going for the Hot Vintage Man bare shoulders vibe:

I spoke before about how William Hopper made a lasting impact as an actor portraying Paul Drake and shining without demanding the spotlight, but he also made a lasting contribution to Paul Drake's character. Paul Drake was a character based on Erle Stanley Gardner's books, which were published between 1933-1973. When William Hopper got the role as Paul Drake in the Perry Mason TV show from 1957-1966, Gardner was still writing the books. When asked about playing Paul Drake, William Hopper said: "If they thought they were getting Paul Drake, they were mistaken. Because what they got was me, nobody else. I play him my way. Now I'm amused to read Gardner's new books. Paul Drake comes out like me."

He made such a lasting impression on Paul’s character on TV that even the author of the books started writing Paul like William Hopper's interpretation!

There's also an anecdote from the wardrobe supervisor on the set of Perry Mason who said William Hopper was a very kind man, a good guy, and a good actor. William Hopper's cast mate, Raymond Burr, once said that "William Hopper was even more precise, more good looking, more fun" in real life than what we, the viewers, got to see him on screen.

To add some more to Raymond Burr's point that William Hopper was "fun", he liked to play practical jokes with his castmates on Perry Mason. In an interview, William Hopper said "You might say there's never a serious moment except on camera." He and all his castmates on the set loved to play jokes with each other to make each other laugh. So he was just a fun guy to be around, apparently!

Also, in the final season of Perry Mason, William Hopper cut a tendon on his foot while filming and he wound up in a cast. They had to rewrite the final episodes so that William Hopper didn't have to do a lot of running around like he usually does. Well, in all those final episodes, you wouldn't even tell that William Hopper was in a cast and having to move around in crutches. And I realize that yeah, they rewrote the scripts to help, but William Hopper doesn't waiver once and doesn't let on about his injury. Plus, according to an interview, the cast attached a little horn to William Hopper's crutches and William Hopper would honk the horn when he was coming to let his cast mates know he was there. Which I just kind of think is sweet.

idk I feel like his hands are pretty beautiful here:

Also, I talked before about William Hopper struggling a bit in finding his own way in acting. It wasn't really until he got into TV shows and with Perry Mason that he felt like he found his place and enjoying acting. Before, William talked about being nervous in front of the camera, but it was working on a LIVE TV show with Claire Trevor when he said, "I was so scared I canceled. I swore I'd never act again as long as I lived. Then I thought, what the heck, they can't shoot me, and walked on the set. Something happened then. It was as if someone had surgically removed the nerves."

And when he talks about his role as Paul Drake, he said, "I'm very fond of him, and as long as Perry Mason is around on television defending various and sundry clients, Paul and I will be very happy to be around helping him."

So he really came into his own as Paul Drake, which I really love about William Hopper. To know he found his way and made something he felt proud of.

Also in terms of William Hopper being physically attractive, I mean, he was so incredible. He once said he was just a guy with premature grey hair and a non throbbing actor, but I personally think he's a heart throb. He had the most loveable smile, broad shoulders, a deep, sultry voice, amazing chest hair (lol), and like.. really absurdly beautiful hands?!? He was also really tall and strong but also by every account he was really gentle and sweet. Larger than life. Sometimes in the Perry Mason shows, William Hopper would swim and he has an incredible swim scene that rivals Mr. Darcy. He's in swim trunks and wins a swim race and comes dripping out of the pool to make anyone swoon. I just love him!

[cindol]

with more recent info,here’s a sukugo x black fem reader thingy I cooked up to test the waters

tw + — non curse modern au but sukuna is still like 1000 years old, fluff,

cw + — throple thing going on between reader, gojo and sukuna, non curse modern au, reader is in her early 30s (30 to 32), gojo is in his mid 20s(25 to 27), mostly banter,

Your relationship, this throple was confusing to just an eye looking in for gossip. One cocky assshole, a grumpy prideful seven foot man and a sweet woman was definitely a huge dynamic duo.

Originally you were closed off and sealed, married to sukuna until gojo came into your bakery one day and stuck around and entered your life after that.

Gojo at first didn’t get along with sukuna, being that he was your husband and he wanted you all to himself to spoil. Yeah, sukuna was your husband, older too but gojo believed he was as much of a man just like him. It didn’t matter that sukuna had been devoted to you since your highschool years gojo saw himself as better.

Sukuna didn’t think kindly of gojo either, just seeing him as some rich brat with a trust fund who never has been told no in his life. When gojo had the guts to look him in the eyes and say he’ll steal you from him with so much audacity was laughable.

“You can play with my wife all you want kid but have her? You’ll never have my woman the way I have her.” Saying it with a deep chuckle while taking a sip of whine. Some men would say it’s strange that he just let gojo have relations with his wife but sukuna could care less, you and him had your little flings with one another noticing and throughout these years sukuna had trust in you and he for sure doesn’t think you’d ever just run off with some trust fund baby.

The thing that actually got the two men to get along was your soft voice.

“I love both of you. Can’t my boys just get along, for me?” Saying it with an alluring tone while hugging onto sukuna’s arms and pulling gojo towards you to get the two to shake hands.

You couldn’t see but behind those circular black shades gojo was wearing but his eyes were rolling at the back of his head then he chuckled.“out of respect for you I’ll play nice baby. Can’t promise I’ll play nice for too long though, who knows when this ass is gonna die and just leave poor miss ryo alone?” He purred grabbing your wrist to kiss your hand.

Sukuna just scoffed.“you’re an insolent fool.”

“Really, how old are you? Don’t know any man in his 30s that drinks from an old ass sake cup.”

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 20

wooo we hit chapter 20!! yeaahhh

MASTAPOST

Beautiful, sunlit beaches blanketed the coastline underneath the street level where colourful tiles crisscrossed. An umbrella kept the heat away from the rustic wooden table at which the Fenton family, minus their youngest, and Bruce Wayne sat. The SAV sat peacefully by the pier where they had disembarked.

They had been sailing for the better part of the afternoon, finally stopping to pick up lunch at Jazz’s insistence. Mr Wayne’s insisted on paying, ever the rich philanthropist.

Jazz Fenton couldn’t be more worried, although she had to hide it. Sitting opposite her, Mr Wayne idly chatted with her parents about their college days. Once she knew what she was looking for, it was painfully obvious that he was interrogating them for information on Vlad Masters, another billionaire thorn in the family’s side (not that her parents knew).

She fidgeted. Her foot tapped repeatedly on the stop, arched to not make sounds that would give her state of general anxiety away. Once she told Tucker what was happening, the boy had gotten to work right away. It would take some time to locate the files containing the specs for the newest inventions, and then more time to analyse them and pinpoint what damage she could do.

She’d need to call Sam next. Tucker had given her the number for Sam’s spare, although there was no guarantee she’d be able to answer soon.

Until then, Jazz was on her own. She picked at her sweet and sour fish broth soup, rolling the tomato chunks around. If she gave herself food poisoning somehow, that might give the boys potentially a week to get away. Then again, there was an equal chance one of her parents would stay with her while the other went with Bruce.

As it was, she could definitely malinger a stomach issue, and delay them for maybe half an hour. Sirens swam quickly, so that time could be valuable for them.

“What about you, Jasmine? What got you interested in psychology?” Came Bruce Wayne’s baritone. Shit.

Jazz was startled out of her thoughts. Before she could open her mouth, she did an awareness check. A mental checklist of where she was and what she needed to do and not do appeared in her head. If she tipped off this man, then it could very lead to her brother underneath a scalpel. No pressure at all.

“Uhm, well. Mr Wa- Bruce.” Jazz found herself stuttering when talking about psychology for the first time in her life. Dammit. She looked to the side, where her father nodded like an excited puppy. Not helping, dad.

“Well I’ve always been interested in people, you see.” Jazz kept a close eye on Bruce Wayne’s posture, studying him. “What makes them upset. What makes them happy.”

She side-eyed her parents. On one side, her mother glared viciously at her fried fish. On the other, her father arranged fries into smiling faces.

“With this family, I’ve had a lot to think about.” That was a good start, right? With any luck, he would be the one to give something away, something she could use against him.

Bruce Wayne chuckled, an easy (fake?) smile worn like a mask. “I can certainly relate. Many times my boys have left me pulling my hair out. It’s a chaotic house most days.”

That was right! Jazz recalled the preliminary research she had done earlier in the day. Bruce Wayne was known to be an endlessly kind man, but suffered several interpersonal issues over the years. One was the notorious apparent teenage tantrum thrown by an 18-year-old Dick Grayson, shortly before his second son, Jason was adopted.

The less said about Jason’s unfortunate fate, the better. Although he may have been brought back, somehow??

She wasn’t sure whether to envy his therapist or not.

It had been exhausting teasing the truth out of the myriad gossip articles on the Wayne family. If Danny were here, he’d bully her relentlessly for going back on her noted disdain towards the ‘shallow and vapid celebrity news industry dedicated to turning private interpersonal conflicts into products to be consumed.’ Oh how the mighty have fallen.

What she could be reasonably sure of was that the present-day family dynamics of the Waynes were testy, to say the least. Apparently their youngest, the Damian who had disappeared into the waves just two days ago, had been dealing with violent tendencies for some time and had no patience for entertaining the elites like his brothers used to. And that was just the public stuff.

Right. She could work with this.

“Was it difficult? In the early days, with your first son.” Jazz said, putting on tones of sympathy and empathetic connection, the kind she would use when she’d try to get Danny to open up.

A pained look came over Bruce. That was good!

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to poke any sensitive issues.” She added with false franticness. The longer the ball was in Bruce Wayne’s court, the better.

Mr Wayne waved her off. “No, it’s fine. Just old memories.”

“Are they fond memories?”

“Yes. It was the happiest time of my life. There was a lot of adjustment. I was a bachelor in my twenties, and suddenly I had an entire child in my hands. Dick had me running around like a headless chicken half the time.”

“Did it get easier?” Jazz asked. The billionaire’s eyes almost glazed over.

“Not particularly. If anything, things got harder. I learned very quickly that experience raising one child does not entirely transfer to another.”

Oh, that was good. Jazz filed this information into her mental notebook.

“But enough about me and my old man troubles.” With that endlessly disarming smile, she could tell why people fell for the playboy turned beleaguered father. “If you’re looking for a good psycho-analysis, I’m afraid I’m a bit basic compared to what Gotham has to offer.”

Drat. Was she that obvious? No, he’d just talked about her psychology interest. She could handle this easily. She just needed to be careful what she said, and didn’t say.

“I guess you could say I’m interested in non-traditional family dynamics. My parents have always been… eccentric.”

“That’s the Fenton way!” Her father shouted. Several other patrons looked at them scathingly. “Too bad Jazzpants hates siren hunting almost as much as… as…” Her father’s expression sank.

That calculating look came back in full force. Dammit dad! She needed to salvage this.

“My feelings towards my parents’ profession aside, the evidence points very strongly to Phantom being connected to my brother’s disappearance. I may not enjoy the siren hunts, but my brother comes first. What else can I do? Sit home and do nothing?”

Her father clapped her back, grinning proudly. “You wouldn’t be doing nothing, sweetie! You’d be keeping Vladdie company!”

Yeah… Jazz mustered all her will power to hide the cringe.

 “And besides, have you seen my parents when they’re at work? Yesterday they spent like 36 hours straight preparing the SAV with only one single break.” Jazz’s head fell back. “They’d probably forget to eat if I weren’t here.”

“Hey that’s not true, Jazz! Your mother and I are excellent at this work-life balance you always babble about. Yesterday we took two breaks instead of one. Progress!”

Jazz gestured to her father with an exasperated sigh. “See what I mean?”

Bruce Wayne hummed. His head tilted in thought as he sampled his mackerel. “Have you always been this responsible, Jasmine?”

“Of course! Look, I may be sixteen, but I very much possess the maturity of an adult. If it’s my job to wrangle this family into healthy habits, then so be it.”

Bruce Wayne appeared to have something to say about that. Jazz’s phone buzzed at that moment, having been turned silent earlier. It was Tucker, you miracle worker.

She shot up from her chair, twisting her expression into an agonisied grimace. “Sorry I think I’m having a bathroom emergency. I’ll be right back!”

Jazz dashed away, feeling perfectly fine in the stomach, except for her nerves.

“I have questions.” Damian told him. They were well on their way south now, Danny’s tail swishing away at top speed. Mostly the boys stayed silent, enjoying each other’s company and the rushing of water.

“Shoot.” Danny said.

“Are you a male? Or is this merely an assumption that others have made?”

Danny sputtered. The question almost knocked him off course with how sudden it was. “W-What? Why would that be a question?”

Damian hummed. “My brothers have taught me not to make assumptions. In addition, siren biology seems heavily based off of fish, many of whom are hermaphroditic in some way.”

“Uhh…”

“Which leaves us with the question. What am I to call you? For most of time together, I have been thinking of you as a male. Was that incorrect of me to do so?”

Danny’s eyes subconsciously drifted to his navel. Was he actually biologically male anymore? He’d always assumed so, but being a half-siren in a siren-hating down didn’t leave much time to learn siren anatomy in and out.

Had he been a girl this entire time? No way… No, he always acted the same as he always acted. If he was a boy before being turned, and acted the same, he could be a boy now, right?

“Uhhh yes. I think I’m a boy. Maybe.”

“For that matter, I would like to inquire how sirens reproduce. Surely the turning of humans is not the only way your species increases its numbers?”

Danny’s face heated to boiling. Blue blushes crept down his cheeks and covered his neck. “Maybe you could ask your dad about human reproduction first?” He squeaked.

“I am already aware!” Damian grouched. “I believe I deserve to know the specifics of the body which I have been forced into.”

“What if I told you I didn’t even know where siren babies came from?” Which was a sad, sad lie, bullshit that Damian clearly saw through.

“Lies!”

Danny threw his hands up, which threw off his balance for a moment. “You’re tiny. Can you guarantee your dad won’t sell me to the GiW for telling you this stuff?”

“I absolutely can.”

“Not the point! Please ask something else. You ain’t getting crap out of me on that front. I am like Davy Jones’ locker. Zip. Shut. Tight. Not happening.”

Damian seethed. This close, Danny could feel the kid’s chest vibrate with growling sounds.

“Very well. What are sirens classed as?”

“Inhuman non-sentient sea monsters bent on the destruction of humans.”

His back stung as Damian slapped him with his tailfin. “Biologically!”

“I dunno! Do I look like I have a marine biology degree?” Danny shrugged.

Damian lowered his head. “So you are uneducated.”

“Hey, rude!” Biology was never Danny’s strong suit. His mother was the one with the however many PhDs. And Sam was the one campaigning for animal rights every other week. He was more of a space guy! This was not new information to Damian! “You tell me! You’re the kid with the animal obsession.”

“I shall lay out the evidence. On the one hand, we possess scales, gills and fins, like all fish do. However, the heat your blood, despite the cold water suggests warm-bloodedness. Furthermore, I have paid very close attention to you, and the female sirens we met in your cave.”

“And what did you see?” Danny tilted his head back.

“The nipples.” Damian ground out. “Which suggests breastfeeding, which is a mammalian trait. However, I am not sure if my own are because of my former status as a human. That is why I must ask you this.”

This was definitely going to be awkward. Danny preemptively suppressed the cringe reflex.

“Do sirens breastfeed?” Damian asked. Danny blanked at that one. Yeah. That question was a hard no clue. “Have you ever breastfed?”

Damian. Oh Damian. Kids just say the darnedest things. Damian. Danny’s cheeks heated up again. He squeaked out an answer. “N-no! I’ve been on my own in the ocean.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at him. Did suspicion have a smell? Because Danny felt like it did, and he was smelling it.

“Do siren parents not take care of their children?” Damian finally asked.

Danny thought back to Youngblood, how Ember basically made him her younger brother (which made her teasing of him for having Damian around totally hypocritical). It was in this moment that he realised he didn’t know any sirens outside his normal enemies. 99% of all times he had interacted with another siren. Hell, any other sea person, was when he was fighting them.

“Danny? Danny?” Damian’s voice raised.

Danny shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just thinking…”

He sounded so pitifully sad in that moment. When a series of familiar whale calls breached the surface, he eagerly welcomed the distraction.

“We’ve caught up to the whale pod!”

Damian gasped, attention turned fully away from his interrogation. “Where are they?”

Danny carried him forward, surging to greet Damian’s new friends again. However, what he saw chilled him.

About a hundred feet away there was a small boat with a flat open deck, a dingy vessel with barnacles coating its hull, and men carrying harpoons and operating cranes, pulling in a net that thrashed violently. And on the deck, tied up by rope and netting, was a baby whale.

Damian swore in a language he didn’t understand. Danny swore too.

Damian’s fins shot ramrod straight. His teeth bared with an inhuman growl. His hand went to the sword sheathed at his waist. He itched to sink it into the bodies of these treacherous men.

“Wait.” Danny said. Wait!? What a preposterous thought. They needed to save Dorothea and her pod now.

“Are you insane!?”

His companion’s voice lowered dangerously. “You realise if we attack them, then the GiW will know, right? The whalers will call for help, or get to shore and it’ll be on the news. We’ll be hunted again.”

Damian did not hesitate. “Do you intend to prioritise our own safety over that of an endangered species being poached illegally?”

Danny shook his head. “Nah. Let’s go fuck them up.”

[misaverawrites]

In the Heat of Your Electric Touch

((johnny silverhand x reader))

summary: you're the manager of SAMURAI, johnny talks to you about changing his image after some reflection since Alt died, you decide that he can do what’s best for him… and you might be it.

tags: no arasaka tower bombing, johnny is a good person, johnny has a body, rockerboy johnny silverhand, samurai stays together, fluff, alt’s death (mentioned), cursing, fluff, forehead kisses, NO PHANTOM LIBERTY SPOILERS

a/n: uhhhh, your honor, i am a 20 year old silly goose with a love for this man.

You stare out over the crowd from backstage, with wide smiles, music amplified by their singing as the bass vibrates through your teeth. You run a hand through your hair, just for a second, pushing away a rogue strand. You take a look at your phone, then back at the stage, where you find Johnny, looking at you with a wide and almost uncharacteristic grin, only to flash it back at the crowd, brandishing horns on his hand, the loud cheers from the crowd egging him on, bringing a small, but not, unwelcome smile to your face. Johnny loved what he did, no one could deny that, even if it seemed he only did it to further his own agenda at times. You knew better though, you and Johnny had spent too much time together on this tour for you to think too far against him.

“Alright, and we want to dedicate this encore to every single one of you!” You hear Kerry say from the stage, the wild roar from the crowd amplifying itself, you tend to watch the crowd more than anything during these shows, it was therapeutic, these people were the lifeblood of bands similar to SAMURAI , and you intended to keep them happy. As SAMURAI closes out their set, as well as Henry’s tab, some of the people start their slow, exhausted post-concert shuffle back out onto the streets of Night City, bags of SAMURAI merchandise in hand, you begin your clean-up, helping stage-hands move everything back onto the van.

“Hey, take a load off, they’ve got it.” You hear Johnny, and you shake your head. “Shouldn’t you be getting under the skirt of some barely-legal SAMURAI fangirl?” You joke and he rolls his eyes, “Fuck off,” he justifies himself, playfully all the same, until his tone gets a bit more serious in nature, “Besides, thinkin’ that’s not all too much my scene anymore.” You laugh, almost dropping the set piece in your hands. “Alright, I’m gonna hear you out, but it sounds like you just started talkin’ like one of those Maelstrom goons after they’ve had one too many implantations, what do you mean ?”

Johnny scoffs and takes the set piece from you, setting it down as he sits you down on the stage, the lingering fans vie successfully for Kerry’s attention, less so successfully for Johnny’s, his attention is all on you.

“I’m just… Fuckin’ sick of it, since Alt, since fuckin’ Arasaka, I don’t wanna ramble in those streets to a God who ain’t listenin’. Y’know?” You sigh and he puts his hand on top of yours, “I just want somethin’... Someone , even who makes me not want to shove an iron in my fuckin’ mouth.” You look at him, just for a second, as if he’s grown two heads, until you realize, from the way he’s looking at you, for once in his life, he’s serious . Your eyes widen a bit, does he mean you ? “It’s not your scene,” You say simply, it’s almost matter-of-fact in delivery.

“What if I wanted it to be?” He asks, that genuine tone of voice still there, he’s still Johnny, he knows what he wants, and he’s pushing for it. Not too hard, lest he drive you away, which is a change all in itself. “I’m the band’s manager, Johnny.” He rolls his eyes a bit, “You’ve been around Corpos a bit too long, babe,” You can’t help but love the way it sounds coming off his tongue, when it’s aimed towards you and not at another girl, “You know the fans don’t care, hell, they live for this stupid drama.” You can’t deny that. Your miles-long social media inbox, brimming with fans begging for any bit of gossip, said that all on its own. You smile a bit, “I mean, if you’re saying it could be your scene, then who am I to fight that, Johnny?” He grins, it’s a big, goofy grin unlike you’d ever seen before from him, “Shit, if you’re willing to allow it, then I guess I’d better not fuck it up.” You and him pause for a moment, not realizing how close the two of you are to one another, bodies pressed tightly against one another, you feel his eyes flicker to your lips for just a moment, until you, for once decide, fuck it . You pull Johnny in and kiss him, he’s warm, warmer than you’d expected whenever you thought about this, his hands meet your elbows awkwardly, he doesn’t know what to do here, and neither do you, really. His lips are chapped against yours and he tastes of cigarettes and tequila, a dangerously addictive combination that makes you want him more and more. You feel his hand suddenly brush against your hair and support the underside of your mouth, giving him more access to your mouth as he deepens the kiss, and everything else is simply null and void, besides him and you.

Until you hear the familiar sound of Kerry, clearing his throat, “Hey, both of you!” He calls, actually subtle for him, as the two of you pull away awkwardly, as though the two of you are teenagers, trying to act cool after being caught getting hot and heavy in a dark movie theater. “We’ve gotta go, bar wants us out, but you two can keep going on the tour bus, cool?” Your skin flushes and you avoid direct eye contact with Kerry, as Johnny chuckles awkwardly, despite himself, trying to keep any sense of his usually un-poised yet still collected poise. You nod, turning to look back at Johnny, who does the same to you, as you both share a small laugh with one another, you playfully push him without any real force, as he wraps his ‘ganic arm around you, kissing your forehead softly as the two of you get onto the tour bus together.

[st4rbe0m]

SUMMARY ▸ 20 years ago, a gruesome murder shook the town hard. A type of murder that should've never happen, much less in their quaint town. A lovely family killed in cold blood by an unforgiving axe wielding maniac - a mother, a father and a little girl. It's been 20 years down the road, hasn't it? Then why are these 10 teenagers stuck in a loop of the same day, being haunted by a little girl who died 20 years ago?

PAIRING ▸ Park Jongseong (Jay) x fem!reader ; additional pairings between characters as well , multi chapter story

TAG LIST ▸ open!! send an ask to be added

WC ▸ 3.1K

A/N ▸ new chapter anyone who reblogs one million hugs and kisses btw. looped moonstruck while writing this chapter. ALSO beach episode coming next chapter 😈

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE THE BODY SEARCH ?

▊ yes -> CHAPTER 5

▊ no -> CHAPTER 3

BODY SEARCH MASTERLIST

“Yang Jungwon, you’re so dead.”

This was the last sentence that Nishimura Riki uttered before he was brutally mauled to death by a stray sports cart being pushed by the bloodied hands of a deadly little girl. 

10 hours before this, under the protective shade of the umbrella of their cafe table, were sat Uchinaga Aeri, Ning Yizhuo, and Y/N Y/L/N, each digging into their chosen sorbets and ice creams. It was Giselle’s idea, who insisted that building a friendship within these dire times was not a bad idea. Friendship was a strange concept to Y/N - simply because she had never been able to experience it fully. As fleeting it was in her childhood, it became non-existent in her teenage years. Honestly, if she thought about it - the last, true friend she had might be Jay himself, and that was when they were about 11 years old. Before middle school pulled them apart like magnet poles. And that was what she was in the midst of explaining to NingNing and Giselle, who felt pangs of guilt growing stronger in their heart as they heard her story. 

“It’s not that I even did anything bad, you know. I suppose that’s what made the whole situation disheartening for me. It was just one day that I had missed the school swim meet, and then a week after that because of a very nasty cold I had caught. But I guess my best friend at that time, Lee Naeun, decided it was the end of the road for us. Because when I returned to school after my break, everyone avoided me like the plague. Turns out, Naeun had told everyone the reason why I had skipped the meet because I loathed everyone, and that I’d told her everyday that I wished the very worst on our classmates. It didn’t help that I was already a very shy person. And she took advantage of that, I suppose. She knew I’d never be able to defend myself.”

Looking up from where she’d kept her head bent down, staring woefully into her sorbet while recounting her sob story, she met the eyes of both NingNing and Giselle, expecting the look of pity she’d been expecting. The sad, sad story of the school freak. Instead, she was surprised to see both wearing the same look of sadness, with Giselle even having a little mist in her eyes. Shocked by this slightly unexpected reaction, she opened her mouth again but this time the both spoke, clamoring with apologies. “I had no idea, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry. Even if there was no way of me knowing, I shouldn’t have believed the baseless gossip of the school as class president”, NingNing apologized shamefully. Giselle too, was heavy with regrets, and she clasped Y/N’s hand tightly as she spoke her own sorry’s. The heartfelt sorrows, as well as the loving and gentle touches and looks the two gave Y/N made her feel an ache in her - like something missing was suddenly returning to her. Something that she’d craved more than anything coming back to fix the pieces of her broken heart, the glue she needed. And it made her feel absolutely elated, to the point where small giggles began leaving her mouth, growing into full fledged laughter, which broke the trance NingNing and Giselle were under. Seeing her reaction, the pair began laughing themselves, and for a moment they could pretend to be normal teenagers again. Teenagers who weren’t playing death’s game every night. 

“Jungwon, let me be frank dude. What’s your deal?”asked Riki, nonchalant about how loaded his question was as he stuffed fries into his mouth, ignorant of Sunoo’s widening eyes or the stern glare Jay gave him. After seeing how his girlfriend had abandoned him at lunch to have a girls hangout, Heesung decided to ask the boys to join him for one of his own - for the power of friendship and stuff. Totally not because he missed his girlfriend. 

Jungwon, however, didn’t seem perturbed by the question at all, sporting a smile instead. “Well, you know how people peak in highschool, and some people become rich and own mansions and cars? Let’s just say, the guys who’ve made such a mark of my reputation won’t be laughing when they’re washing my sports cars.” 

His confident, albeit cocky and slightly goofy response had Jake choking on his milkshake and Sunghoon giving an amused smile as he continued to munch on his chicken tenders. “Leave Jungwon, let’s talk about something more important. Like how these three genuinely ordered off the kids’ menu. When Jay mentioned it, I thought he was kidding.”, said Sunoo with a sip of his own root beer, gesturing on the Dumb, Dumber and Dumbest - Jay, Sunghoon and Jake, the same order they were sitting in at the diner booth. “What’s wrong with the kids menu? Better food at half price, it’s a fucking steal”, said a pouty Jake as he made a deal out of eating his cheese fries. “Honestly, I didn’t think Sunghoon would be as bad as you guys. I always thought he was a serious guy.” This had the other two speaking up together, both ready with several examples of Sunghoon’s rather stupid moments. “Hey, hey, he didn’t ask for a testimony!”. “So are you back to school for good, then?”. Another loaded question, that had Sunghoon furrowing his brows. “Yeah, I am”, he said after a moment’s pause, looking directly into the eyes of his two best friends, who returned grateful smiles of their own. “Let’s leave the sentimental stuff and talk about what’s more important, like Lee Heesung, how did you, a loser, manage to pull Giselle?”, asked a teasing Jake, and thus began another round of bickering.

“I’m serious, I don’t like Jay!”, laughed NingNing, when she saw the unconvinced faces of Y/N and Giselle. “B-but you’ve attended all the practices! And you’ve been close to him for a while now, haven’t you?” spluttered a perturbed Giselle, who fancied herself quite the cupid. “Well, I have been attending practices and gotten close to him. Just not for the reason you all thought it to be.” “Then what? Is it someone else on the team you’re interested in?”, asked Y/N. When NingNing gave no reply, Y/N and Giselle broke into huge grins as they nudged the other girl who was smarting reddened ears and a docile smile. “You guys have to promise me this stays a girls’ secret, alright? No telling Heesung, okay Gi?”, said NingNing in a rather hushed tone. Moving their heads closer to hear NingNing better, and Giselle promising to keep the secret safe even from her boyfriend, NingNing hesitated for a bit before the name tumbled out of her mouth. “Park Sunghoon. I was attending their practice matches to see if he’d show. And I got close to Jay to ask him about how Sunghoon was doing. It’s not everyday your crush starts barely attending school and starts ignoring everyone. But I’m glad he’s back now.” said a shy NingNing, immediately covering her face to hide her furiously blushing cheeks. “Ayye, I’m sure you’re glad. Now if that little weirdo comes after you, you always have your Ice Prince to save you, don’t you?”, Giselle’s joke making Y/N laugh out loud and leaving NingNing in a mess, smacking Giselle’s arm in embarrassment. 

“Jay, come off it. Everyone sees the heart eyes you manage to make even in a life or death situation at Y/N.”, Heesung countered to the flustered Jay, who’s strawberry red ears weren’t helping his case at all. “Wait, dude what about Ning?” asked Jake, the name making Sunghoon pop his head out and ask, “Jay has a thing with NingNing?”. Sighing, with a self-important smirk, Heesung leaned back into the peachy orange seats of the diner to just say, “Oh you kids, just starting out with love, so unaware of your own feelings”, which just resulted with Jay chucking the crumpled plastic wrapper of a straw at his face. 

“Wait! This is brilliant Y/N!”, said an excited Giselle who turned to Y/N with hopeful eyes. “What?” “Well, now you and Jay can get together freely without any complications!”. This just made Y/N bite down a bit harshly into her sorbet accidentally, and rubbing her upper lip, she feigned ignorance as she asked, “What do you mean?”. “Oh come on, there’s no way you both don’t have something going on! He protects you and follows you around like a guard dog. It’s always ‘Y/N did this’ ‘Y/N be careful’ and ‘Y/N stay in my arms and be safe with me forever’”, which made Y/N smack Giselle over the table this time, looking to NingNing for any support, who just looked at the exchange with amusement and knowing. “Ning, don’t tell me you think this too?”, asked Y/N. “Well..” “Oh, you guys!” 

“Yeah, we knew each other as kids. Best friends in kindergarten, if that’s anything?”, said Jay who had been pressured by the rest of the group to spill his history. “Then I drifted apart from her, kinda. With basketball and whatnot”, Jay shamefully mumbled the last part, regretfully leaving behind his childhood friend obviously. “Well, she grew into her lonesome after that, didn’t she?”, asked Sunoo. “Yeah, but she shouldn’t have had to. I should’ve done something”, huffed out Jay, as he slumped in his seat. “Despite”, added Jungwon, “she’s been kind. She’s been kind to me when I’ve been picked on. I’ve seen her help the aging old librarian during lunch and offer him some of her leftover lunch.” Hearing about Y/N made Jay break into an unknowing grin, and the rest of the boys noticed this almost immediately, smiling knowingly within themselves. 

“Back when we were 11, our families went to an amusement water park. He sort of saved my life that day.” After cracking open to the girls about her crush on Jay, Y/N was in the midst of explaining when she realized she liked him. “Wait, so you’ve liked him that long?”, asked NingNing, surprised by the length of this ongoing infatuation. “Well, yes. There was this slide and there was a negligent lifeguard there. Honestly, I don’t remember much of it. I remember the guard almost hurt me in the water, and Jay had managed to find me and bring me away from the guard to my family.” “That’s really strange, why would a lifeguard hurt you?”, asked Giselle. “Yeah, honestly I don’t remember much. I don’t even know if he was a worker there or just some dangerous man who had slipped in unnoticed into the waterpark.” “Wait, so that means you guys are childhood sweethearts! Ah, how exciting!”, squealed a delighted NingNing, and as the topic of crushed changed courses to school to the future to just simple discussions, the next 3 hours were spent in merriment. Not only the girls, but even the boys could feel the time fly away like feathers with the way they all bonded. 

That was 10 hours ago. 10 hours after the smiling and teasing and jokes, standing in the empty broadcast room of their deserted school was Yang Jungwon, shuffling between CDs the music department had kept, all of them being either hymns or instructions. Finally, he managed to pull out a CD, the cover art faded away into almost nothing, but based on what it was, it seemed to be some sort of rock and roll music. Plugging it into the CD player and cranking up the speakers with no time to spare, Jungwon spoke into the mic, feedback whining as he yelled into the mic, “Are we freaking ready, gang? Let’s rock it”. He was sure his friends were laughing or groaning at his corniness, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Because it was the first time he was using the word friends in a sentence referring to himself. 

Riki and Y/N are in the sports room, and they’d made a sort of obstacle course out of the sports carts and the equipment. On the other side of the room were Sunghoon and NingNing, holding tennis racquets, ready to play offense. The group’s incentive for this night was the ground floor, and stationed in all the important rooms were members of their little crew - ready with every nuisance they could come up with to distract the little girl. The cherry on top, was what Giselle had provided them just before they began. 

“I remember the AV club’s president, my cousin, had mentioned something about walkie-talkies being somewhere in the school. So I, the great Uchinaga Giselle, have taken the liberty to find them and provide them to you all”, she said, as she dumped some possibly decade old walkie-talkies on the table, hands reaching out to grab one each, thanking Giselle or praising her for her quick thinking. 

Jungwon’s music choice was obnoxious, is what Riki thought when he saw the girl appear, her white fangs glinting in the light of the room. And immediately, the team sprung into action. Y/N, Sunghoon and Riki ready to combat the girl while NingNing frantically searched the room for any missing body parts. Though the girl seemed to possess immaculate speed and inhumane strength, the group managed to stall her long enough for NingNing to find a severed leg, and run like the wind away from the room, screaming into the walkie talkie of her discovery. And as the girl rammed the sports cart into Riki’s head last after stringing Y/N’s body, split in half by the ropes, and Sunghoon’s lifeless body laid out unceremoniously on the basketball court, they were glad about one thing - she was going down just as planned. 

“Ground floor, complete” Jay was putting X marks on all the rooms covered. Till now, the gang had uncovered the left forearm and the right foreleg. The rest of the parts were going to be concealed better no doubt. But they had a good feeling about this one. “Jungwon, I’m begging you man. Play better music. Just because we’re killing that insane ghost doesn’t mean you have to kill us with bad music”, groaned Jake. “Oh, I’m sorry, but would you rather listen to Christmas hymns? Because that’s what the school has” “It’s better than the nonsense you’re playing. The singer honestly sounds like a divorced alcoholic countryman.”, said Sunoo. 

The group parted ways, deciding to go their separate ways for a bit, Giselle and Heesung giggling as they went off to the park, and Jungwon, Jake and Riki in a heated discussion about their favorite shows and movies. Moving away from the table was Y/N as well, until a hand around her wrist stopped her. Turning around to see who it was, her pupils widened as she stared right into the chocolate brown of the one and only Jay. “Stick with me tonight, alright? I don’t want to see you strung up like a puppet again.” His tone may have been lighthearted, but the worry in the crease of his brow gave away his seriousness. “Sure Jay, thank you.”, said a beaming Y/N, absolutely over the moon with the way this was going. Sensing the end of her luck with him, she was ready to pull away, when she found that Jay was still clutching her hand, and was striding forward confidently, his hands dipping as his fingers folded themselves around the gaps of your own. Holding her hand in possibly the smoothest way possible, and throwing a charming smile her way that had a million butterflies erupt immediately in her gut, he asked, “Drop you to class?”. And only a fool would give up this offer. Shy smiles and intertwined fingers, the two went up to the class, both opting for the longer route unknowingly. 

“So, Y/N”, said Jay casually. “So, Jay”. The hand holding was still going unaddressed between the two, but it was better that way. Some things were left better off on their own, to linger in the air that seemed charged around both of them. Brushing a strand of her hair that had seemed to fall on to her forehead, looking at his face it was obvious he was struggling to say something. “You can say what you’re planning to say Jay”, said a teasing Y/N. Sombrely, he looked at Y/N, only hoping that the hand he was holding on to that made his arm feel like lead in nervous jitters, would stay when he was done. “I’m sorry.” “For what?”, asked Y/N simply, tilting her head slightly in confusion. “For not being a good friend. For leaving you behind. For not keeping in touch.” It seemed like the boy was not going to run out of reasons to apologize any time soon, and Y/N with a surge of boldness simply placed a finger of her free hand against the plush of his lips which were mid-movement, amused as she peered at his face. “Jay. It’s absolutely alright. My circumstances were not your fault at all, and I could have made an effort to reach out as well.” “But-” “No buts. I don’t blame you. And honestly, this whole game? It’s just made me more over the whole thing before.”. Smiling softly, she added another reassurance, just a little leap of faith. “Jay, you’ll always be the boy who saved me at the amusement park, alright? My knight in shining armor rather.” And with that simple statement, she dropped the finger on his lips and tugged the slightly stunned Jay along, both of them making their way down the hall with burning cheeks and fighting grins.

[gleefullypolin]

Stacy's tipsy ramblings about season 3:

I have thoughts...and I've had a bad Friday sooooo....here we go.

Do I want Pen to write as LW past S3? Yes and No. Fantasy Stacy wanted Colin and Pen to be Lord and Lady Whistledown spitting truth across the ton to all who needed to hear it. Reality Stacy wants her to have a true career and write a real novel as Penelope Bridgerton where she has her own success and Colin has his.

How are we feeling about the Ben storyline? zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Sorry.....was asleep. Wake me when we give him something to actually do.

Do we feel sorry for Cressida and want to see her arc redeemed by the end of Season 3? Nope. Every story needs a villain and I'm perfectly fine to see this one drown.

Do I enjoy John and Fran? No. Their story is not exciting for me. Sorry. Nothing against them, I'm just not enjoying it, personal opinion simply my own. I'm sure others might be in the same boat but unlikely to voice that opinion and that's fine as well. Again. Personal opinion and nothing against them. Just how I feel.

Should Colin forgive Pen so quickly in Part 2? Duh. It's a gossip column. I'm sorry that she wrote some honest things that cut close to the vest for people. She didn't lie. She tried to talk to these people over and over and over again and NO ONE listens to her. Colin patted her on the head like a puppy...."Pen you are so good" when she tried to warn him and she saved his ass from twins. Soooo, yeah. Let him feel his feels but honestly, lets move on.

Do you feel like Colin's character is OOC and the brothels are unnecessary? Nope, he came back as the person society expects him to be. Just as he said. He tried to fit with the Lord Douche Brigade and went about his business. The only time he was himself was with Pen. The whole point of that was to see the difference. Brothel mess and all and I was good with that. Clutch your pearls when you want to complain about his brothers having threesomes and fucking in public against trees.

Is Pen trapping Colin by not telling him right away about LW? Girl just got all her dreams converging into one. Confessions of love and fingering all in one. Then thrown into a family marriage proposal, immediately blackmailed by Eloise to confess, Cressida taking all her life's work credit from her, the Queen hunting her down. She's 20 years old. Image the pressure. Not only that but she gets the one thing she's been coveting since she watched him fall off a horse and now it could fall to dust. El already showed her what could happen by telling that secret and she was the love of her life. No one gave her a chance to breathe much less think of what these repercussions could mean. Either way, mistakes were made, but not unforgiveable, and nothing she would not have allowed him out of. When you allow someone the chance to remove themselves, it is not a trap. Point. Blank. Period.

Is the season rushed? I don't know, I've only watched four fucking episodes. Have you watched more than me? Please tell me where to watch the other 4, I'll pay!

Am I an asshole? Nah, just had a bit to drink, did you not read the top part...ok show time over! Before I really tell you how I feel!!

[corruptedcaps]

A Bad Conscience

Courtney had always been the center of attention. As a cheerleader, she strutted around her high school with her perfectly styled hair and designer outfits, surrounded by a clique of admiring girls and boys. Her beauty was undeniable, and her popularity was unmatched. But Courtney had a dark side. She was a cruel bully who would taunt and belittle anyone who didn't fit into her definition of cool or who didn’t give her the right amount of respect.

One fateful night, 20 years ago, Courtney's life was cut short in a car accident on her way home from a party. But even in death, Courtney couldn't bear to be ignored. She had always been the center of attention, and she refused to fade away into nothingness. It was what kept her from moving on.

So, Courtney began to haunt her high school and the town she grew up in. She floated through the halls, watched as new generations of students went about their days, and followed the lives of her former friends and enemies.

But no one could see or hear her. She was just a ghost, invisible and ignored. It was frustrating for someone who had always craved attention, but it also gave her the perfect opportunity to spy on people without consequence. She learned all about the lurid side of her town and all the seedy gossip. It was like her own personal soap opera. But like a soap opera she grew bored of it over time.

She started to explore her limits as a ghost. Over time she found she could move objects, with a substantial amount of effort though. However it allowed her to begin reading books of dark magic and paranormal beings like herself. She learned that she could possess a body if they wore something that she had worn in life. Unfortunately her parents had long gotten rid of her things. But there was one thing left.

She stared at the wooden frame that hung up in the hall next to the trophy cabinet with the little plaque underneath it commemorating her time as head cheerleader. In the frame itself was her pristine cheerleader outfit, pink, white, and tight. She needed someone to wear it, then she would be able to be able to live again but who would ever steal and then wear the outfit of a dead cheerleader?

As she was deep in thought she heard a snoring sound coming from the nearby library. She had thought everyone had gone home for the day but seemingly not. Floating in she found a girl asleep on the ground on top of an open book.

Courtney knew it was Ash, a new student who had been struggling to fit in. She had watched as the girl was bullied and excluded, just as she had once done to so many others. Ash would hide away in the library away from others all the time but this time she had seemingly hid too long and fell asleep.

Courtney looked at her with disdain. Courtney had no time for people she perceived as weak and Ash certainly filled that bill. Courtney had even less respect for girls like her in death. Why should they get to live while she had to die?

“Such a waste of a life.” Courtney said aloud and to her surprise Ash jolted awake.

“Hello?” Ash asked into the air. Courtney froze. Had Ash heard her? No one ever hears her. She had to test it out.

“I said it’s a waste that you’re in here while life is passing you by out there.” Courtney said startling Ash who looked around trying to see where the voice was coming from.

“W-who are you?” Ash asked now very nervous. Courtney was delighted someone could finally hear her, even if it was the dorky Ash. This would bring her one step closer to getting back her life but she had to play this smart. She couldn’t exactly tell her she was a deceased decades old cheerleader.

“I’m your conscience. The part of your conscious you’ve buried away anyway.” Courtney said hoping this would work. To her delight Ash seemed to become less tense.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bury you away.” She said apologizing. Courtney rolled her eyes at how much of a pushover this girl was. Although she realized this would work to her advantage. She knew she could get Ash to wear the uniform but also knew even a wimp like her would need some convincing. She just needed to make her into a girl that didn’t care about consequences.

She floated around Ash, whispering into her ear, "That’s ok, you can make it up to me by listening and doing exactly what I say understand?”

Ash didn't know why her conscience sounded different to her own voice or had a bratty tone but she couldn’t deny how confident it sounded and persuasive it was. Maybe she could learn from it.

“First things first, you need to dress better. No not that outfit, yessss that one. You’ll look so much hotter in that.” Courtney said in her ear that night as Ash online shopped on her laptop. Ash was staring at an outfit she’d never have thought of wearing a million years but Courtney was hard to say no to.

“The hotter you look the more people will respect you. The more respect you have the more power you wield.” Courtney purred and Ash found herself shivering with hearing the words.

“You really think I could have some sort of… power just by wearing some nice clothes?” Ash said as she closed her laptop after ordering the dress and got ready for bed.

“Absolutely. Hot girls get to do what they want. Doesn’t that sound like power? Don’t you deserve that?” Courtney said to her.

“It does sound good…” Ash said as she drifted off to sleep. Courtney meanwhile spend the rest of the night whispering in the girl’s mind bitchy words of affirmation. Courtney would make her into the perfect puppet.

The next day Ash woke up feeling well rested. She had the most amazing dreams where everyone at school looked up to her and either wanted her or wanted to be her. It felt good but more than that it felt natural. Why shouldn’t she be the most popular girl in school? She resolved to listen to her conscious explicitly from now on.

"You need to wear more makeup. And you need to start talking to the right people. The popular crowd. That's where you belong." Courtney began and Ash nodded in agreement. She couldn’t wait to get started. Thankfully her outfit arrived overnight and she poured herself into its tight bratty design.

Only last night she would have been apprehensive about wearing something so revealing but now she wore it proudly. Now with a little makeup on and a brush of comb through her hair and she looked and felt better than she had in years. She stood looking at herself vainly, as Courtney whispered in her ear some more.

“You look so fucking hawt.” Courtney said causing a pleasurable shiver to course through Ash’s body.

“I do don’t I?” Ash responded feeling confident about herself for once.

Over the next week Ash made a big impact on the rest of the student body. Each day she came in she turned heads for all the right reasons.

She developed her own little clique of girls outside of the hierarchy of popularity, a clique she could control and boss around. It made her increasing horny the more bitchy she became.

"You're doing great, Ash," Courtney whispered. "You look amazing. But if you’re gonna become the most popular girl in school you’re going to have to get better friends. You need to hang out with the popular crowd," she said. "That's where the real power is."

Ash would have been hesitant if Courtney wasn’t whispering in her head nightly, turning her into the formidable and attention seeking girl she was now.

It was surprisingly easy for Ash to ditch the only friends she had ever had, to her all that mattered now was climbing the social ladder. Plus her conscious felt like the only friend she needed. It always knew exactly what to do.

Even more astounding though was it’s ability to know the sordid little secrets that everyone was hiding. Of course Ash couldn’t have known that her conscious was a ghost who had been collecting juicy gossip for years but then again she didn’t really care why she knew that Chad was cheating on Aimee or that Samantha had a pill problem or that Louise was secretly gay. All that mattered was how she used the information and she used it to elevate herself to the top of the hierarchy in record time.

Ash became like Courtney with each passing moment and it truly felt like they were becoming one. Ash would now do and say things Courtney was about to suggest unprompted. Courtney felt like she was in charge once again. There was just one final step.

“I don’t know about this, it seems a little far even for me.” Ash said staring at the framed uniform hanging up in the gym.

“It’s your final step to becoming the queen of the school.” Courtney whisper with eager anticipation.

“It would look incredible on me but why do I have to take this Courtney girl’s cheerleader uniform, why can’t I just get a new one?” Ash asked worried for the first time in weeks.

“Because I was the ultimate bitch, I oozed power and respect. Putting on my uniform will complete your transformation into the new mean queen everyone will fear.” Courtney said no longer hiding her true identity. A fact that seemed to finally make her corporeal to Ash who shrieked and jumped back when she saw the girl materialize before her.

“Wait you haven’t been my conscience all this time? You’re this head cheerleader? You’re Courtney?” Ash said backing up against the wall.

“I guess the cats out of the bag. I’ve been moulding you into the perfect bitch and I must say even I’m surprised how well you’ve turned out but now it’s time for your graduation to the big leagues. Put on my uniform and we can become one, the ultimate goddess.” Courtney smirked as she advanced on Ash.

“You turned me into this vain narcissistic slut?! You made me into this dangerous wet dream and you think I’ll just rollover and let you take my body? Not a chance!” Ash said defiant but Courtney simply smiled and put her hand around Ash’s head and pulled her close.

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do because you love what you’ve become. You love the power you have over other people. How they love and fear you in equal measure. Not only do you know you’re nothing without my guidance, you know how much bigger of a bitch you can be with me inside you.” Courtney teased and Ash knew she was right.

“But you can stop this right now,” Courtney continued. “Our connection to one another is why you can now see me, why you can feel my soft hands on your neck and while you can feel this.”

Courtney pressed her lips against Ash’s and ran her tongue down her chin. Ash moaned softly enjoying the invasion. “Yessss I want you Courtney. I want you inside me, controlling me, using my body as you please. I want to become the queen on this pathetic school, a walking goddess!” Ash yelled as she pushed Courtney off of her and pulled the frame off the wall causing the glass to shatter and the uniform to be exposed.

Ash ripped off her clothes and hungrily pulled on the cheerleading outfit. It fit her perfectly and she lovingly ran her hands across the fabric. Courtney pushed her against the wall and kissed her deeply. As she did her ghostly form melted into Ash’s body and the two girls merged into one. This new girl’s bones cracked and freaked as the best attributes of each girl became dominant.

Ash’s bigger tits looked natural paired with Courtney’s tanned skin. Courtney’s thick full lips looked perfect on the same face as Ash’s piercing eyes. Ash’s taller frame took on Courtney’s well maintained muscles and athleticism. In short, this new girl was perfection.

She wanted to see herself, her new self and out of instinct she flicked her wrist and commanded the broken frame and glass to float off the ground and resemble. She smirked to herself, realizing that some of Courtney’s ghostly abilities merged over as well.

“Oh I’m going to have so much fun tomorrow when everyone gets a look at me. Who knows maybe one day they’ll be a shrine to me up on the walls. Who am I kidding, this whole school will be a shrine to me once I’m done with it. Ashley High School certainly had a ring to it.” She said to herself with a cackle as she flicked her hair back and strutted down the hallway.

[asymm3]

okay so resident evil au where wesker goes "haha whoopsies" at some point and stops being a bioterrorist with plans for world domination (don't ask me how or why, i know nothing) he moves to a small town in the middle of nowhere, USA (probably the midwest) and buys up an old house to refurbish/renovate

cue the nosy neighbors (aka gertrude and her book club) who are very interested in this "nice young man" who has moved in across the street at first gertrude keeps an eye on him because she will. not. stand. for anyone to "flip" the perfectly nice house from 1920s into some minimalist monstrosity

wesker passes her expectations for the house with flying colors. she brings him a peach cobbler as a present after the house is all fixed up. he is perplexed. gertrude wants to know why he's wearing sunglasses indoors but is too polite to question. everyone has their quirks

bookclub because less bookclub and more gossiping-about-wesker club. he's such a nice, "young" man who is always nice to the cashier at the one and only grocery store (charlene's great nephew), and sticks to a meticulous routine. he gets up, goes for a run (gertrude respectfully ogles, because dear heavens that is a fine looking man and her husband, marvin god rest his soul, has been gone for 20 years), drinks his coffee on his porch, and tends to a few scraggly flower bushes.

after a couple of months and nobody else moving in, or even visiting for that matter, they assume there is no mrs. wesker in the picture. matlida wants to set him up with her daughter. gertrude kindly tells her to knock it the fuck off. mildred wants to see if she has a chance. kathy wants him to prune her like his roses bushes. gertrude threatens to withhold all her wesker-related gossip until they calm down and leave the poor man alone. the flock of vultures.

after bringing wesker some leftover chocolate chip cookies one day, gertrude kindly suggests that he might look into getting a companion of sorts. the shelter she volunteers at has lots of puppies and kittens this time of year, and he looks like he could use a friend. wesker just kinda stares blankly at her.

however, the next week he comes back with a fluffball from the shelter. it has to be the most ill-mannered, scrungliest little senior rat-dog that gertrude has ever seen. wesker pleasantly informs her that his name is titan. it's the closest to smiling that gertrude has ever seen him

life goes back to plain, boring normal until wesker is knocking at gertrude's door at 2 in the morning. she nearly has a heart attack. wesker explains that there is a personal emergency he needs to take care of out of town for a week or so and asks if she could feed/take titan out while he's gone. gertrude shushes him as he tries to pay her and tells him to go take care of whatever it is and that titan is in good hands.

wesker is gone for nearly 2 weeks. by day 3 gertrude can't wait for him to come home because titan only likes wesker. eventually they come to an understanding over some deli meat turkey. wesker returns one day but he isn't alone.

gertrude calls cletus and tells him to put mildred on the phone while she watches as a well-built, brown-haired man painfully limps from wesker's black SUV, up the sidewalk, and into the house, supported by wesker all the while.

a couple hours later she brings over some chicken noodle soup (for wesker's guest) and some of her chocolate chip cookes (for wesker). a harried wesker answers the door, his normally perfectly-gelled hair a mess, as if he'd been running his fingers through it, and his sunglasses nowhere to be seen. gertrude notices his lack of shades and says nothing, because it seems the poor dear is going through a lot at the moment, but she does note his beautiful gray eyes.

throughout the next few weeks, she continues to drop off meals every couple of days. whoever wesker's friend is, they'll need their strength to recover from their ordeal. gertrude doesn't ever see the other man, but wesker's house is uncharacteristically messy, strewn about with various medical supplies when he invites her in as he retrieves her casserole dish

after a month or so, wesker's routine finally returns to normal. one morning, the other man is seated on the porch with wesker, sipping coffee with titan curled up in his lap. gertrude whips up a quick apple crisp and casually wanders over, deli meat in hand to bribe titan

she greets the two men and tuts over the other man's injuries, who introduces himself as chris. despite his recovery thus far, chris is still visibly battered and bruised, splinted fingers stroking titan's fluffy back. titan eyes gertrude warily, but seems content to stay snuggled in chris' lap

as she converses genially with chris about the area and a bit of its history. gertrude can't help but notice the soft look on wesker's face and how his eyes never leave chris. she excuses herself after a while, giggling like a schoolgirl as she phones her bookclub later with all the details. chris and wesker find themselves inundated with homecooked meals and baked goods for the next month

gertrude stumbles upon them one night at the grocery store as she makes a late-night run for more butter. chris is doing far better, just some scars and a light limp, and she notices how close the two men are standing as they shop. she turns away to go pretend to look at fruit, but doesn't miss how wesker's hand comes up to rest in the small of chris' back. the smile doesn't leave her face as she drives home

[infinitewolfstarr]

About me & links:

Name: that’s a secret xoxo gossip girl

Age: 20+

Pronouns: She/Her

Hogwarts house: Slytherin 💚

Fave ship: Wolfstar

Fave colour: Sage green

Fave animal: Cats & Highland cows

Important mention: I am a diehard swiftie. that is all.

AO3 links:

Infinitewolfstar

Moonystoastandmarsbars

Completed fics:

I didn't sign up for this :

(Chapters: 24 Word count: 103,272)

Sirius Black is single and loving his life, he is adamant he does not want children- it’s the whole reason he split with his soulmate, Remus Lupin. However, one day a terrified four-year-old named Leo Black is dropped off on his doorstep and changes his life forever.

Wolfstar endgame

WIPs:

Parent Trap:

When Sirius Black and Remus Lupin divorced, they decided to cut all ties and made a bad decision. They chose to separate their identical twins and take full custody of a baby each. Years later a chance encounter at summer camp leads to twins Teddy Lupin and Leo Black trading places. The twins are both as sneaky as the marauders once were and work together to find out why their parents split up, how they met and trick them into falling in love again. Most importantly, they get to meet their other parent for the first time and spend time with them. However, it’s not as straightforward as they thought it would be and soon everything starts to fall apart as family secrets are unveiled and feelings get hurt.

Is it over now?:

Barty Crouch jr is an Italian tattoo artist based in LA, he’s used to being around celebrities due to his famous clients. He’s a player, a menace to society and he has commitment issues to go with his daddy issues(let’s not mention the sprinkle of mental health problems and hidden insecurity). He’s normally fine around the famous lot, couldn’t give less of a shit about them but when his celebrity crush,singer Evan Rosier,starts coming in regularly to get tatted- Barty starts falling hopelessly in love and he hates it.

On hold:

All fics on Infinitewolfstar are on hold because my sister found my account and I’m scared but I will update eventually😭

His silent world is on hold because Parent Trap is occupying my brain 24/7 atm but it will get finished eventually- sorry!

[soundslivemagazine]

In Defence Of Oasis

Exploring the hype behind one of Britain’s most loved and raucous rock n roll bands.

Unless you’ve been living under the most soundproof of rocks this week, you will have heard the news. After a decade and a half of the alluring ‘will-they-won’t-they’ drama, the Gallagher brothers Noel and Liam have rekindled just as suddenly as they’d ended it all backstage at a gig in Paris in 2009.

The rumours abound on social media suddenly began to feel a lot less like fantasies when Oasis, Noel and Liam’s accounts all teased an announcement last Saturday. Oasis had made announcements since their split, usually about anniversaries, merchandise and documentaries, this wasn’t out of the ordinary. In fact, the band would soon be marking 30 years since their era-defining debut album Definitely Maybe came out in August 1994. Singer Liam Gallagher had also threatened to reunite the band on plenty of occasions in the ensuing decade, but never made good on his word. Why should this time have felt different?

In theory, it shouldn’t have. The village eventually loses interest in the boy crying wolf. And yet, when Liam Gallagher stepped onto the Main Stage at Reading festival to perform a headlining set on Sunday and opened with nostalgic on-screen visuals of Oasis, any doubt left in fans’ minds quickly evaporated.

The following Tuesday, the band confirmed what we already knew: Oasis, the biggest Britpop band of the 1990s, were back in action.

The avalanche of articles followed like they hadn’t in over 20 years: Oasis had undoubtedly reignited the fantasies of music magazines and publications that were otherwise scaling down in the face of rising operational costs. We’ve now seen over 20 NME articles, news on the BBC website, a revived radio documentary on BBC 6 Music, countless Rolling Stone thinkpieces, news in SPIN Magazine, the Manchester Evening News, gossip in the rags of the Sun, Mail, Metro. The mural in Manchester. The millions of people that tried to get tickets for the reunion dates that sold out in hours. It’s easy to be sick of it all, to think there wasn’t a band more overrated, overhyped or beloved than Oasis.

But let’s forget the hymns for a moment. Let us re-examine the appeal of the band before the myth: five boys from Manchester who believed in nothing more than the rock ‘n’ roll dream. And certainly, nothing less.

Cast your mind back to 1994, before the success and idolatry, before their songs would be turned into design-for-life anthems, before the band would be permanently woven into the fabric of British music history. Strip all that away and try to imagine hearing a then-relatively unknown Oasis for the first time. Imagine being told that half the band was not yet 22 years old, that they were a new band, releasing their third-ever single? Can you imagine, however simple it may have been lyrically, hearing Live Forever for the first time? In particular, just 4 months after Kurt Cobain’s suicide, after many fans were left feeling like they were staring at the definitive end of an era of honest independent music?

In 1994, Oasis were ’77’s punk all over again. Entering a landscape of artists (a term Liam Gallagher has derided) who internalised their music and recoiled at the notion of explicit success, Oasis were a brash rejection of shoegaze and indie’s philosophies, even going as far as to instruct the presenters of BBC Radio 1’s Evening Sessions to tell the world that Oasis were not an indie band. They were a rock ‘n’ roll band, and a band that dared to aim high, openly and with no apologies (all apologies for the pun). 

That was a philosophy they would live by until the bitter end, for better or worse. In a world of falling ambition and no hope, as Britain emerged ravaged by the Thatcher years to find there was nowhere left for its young to go, Oasis were determined to write their own destiny, largely for themselves, but invariably, for their entire generation. 

Keep reading

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Luciana Drazel

Helena's mama

Luciana's profile:

Basic Information:

Name: Luciana Drazel (maiden name Vertez)

Age: currently 49 (in the pic 17)

Birthday: August 11

Sign: Leo

Blood type: AB

Love interest: Maxim Drazel

Birthplace: Clover Kingdom Raque

Current Location: Drazel territory Diamond Kingdom

Affinity: Bandage magic

Appearance:

Height: 161 cm

Build: Slim

Eye Color: Light, milk coffee brown

Hair: Warm brown. Currently long and wavy, in her youth cut short.

Clothing: Drazel house red dress with shoulder openings and a brown belt. Previously mostly magenta colored summer clothes.

Personality:

Luciana is a cheerful and talkative person. Being talkative comes with knowing all the gossip, so Luciana is always aware of what's going on in social circles. She's always the talk of the town and can wrap anyone around her little finger. Luciana can be a bit of a stereotypical soap opera mama from time to time. She meddles in other people's matters and is very determined to hold up the family name. Thus she has no problems with sticking to Helena her unmarried status.

However Luciana is loving mother, who would do anything for her children. She treats them very equally and she made sure they were raised well in warm environment.

Luciana unfortunately is your typical Clover noble, who has little respect for those with less mana. She is not mean, but simply doesn't consider them to be on the same level and pays no attention.

She's also never been interested in developing her magic. She has a lot of mana and would rather attend banquets and charm people instead of using it.

Background:

Luciana is the only daughter of late Gabriella and Fernando Vertez, high born Clover nobles, who owned few summer resorts by the seaside in Raque. Señora Gabriella died, when Luciana only two years old and her papa remarried very soon. Him and Señora Tatiana, because this was the name of Luciana's stepmother had a daughter Cornelia Vertez (3 years younger than Luciana).

Considering Luciana's outgoing personality and silver tongue she excelled in the social circles of Raque, but also had many personal achievements. She was the "golden child" of Raque, which made her stepmother despise her. Tatiana truly hated Lucianaand did everything she could to make her life miserable.

One time when Tatiana got angry little Luciana ran away to the beach where she met a silver haired princess. Small Acier asked her what happened, letting her cry and then they played in the sand together. That's how the two became childhood friends and their relationship only grew as they became older.

Through her teenage years Tatiana continued to abuse Luciana (her father would not do anything about it), so Luciana would escape into partying, drinking and social turmoil. She was knows as the life and soul of the party and high society was unaware of her struggles. Perfectly fine and happy on the outside, but suffocating on the inside. Acier was her only true friend. Few times she invited Luciana to the capital for a getaway from her abusive family.

Luciana's relationship with her half sister was just as bad, because since the youngest years the two were being compared to one another. Cornelia was jealous and blamed her failures on Luciana.

Luciana met Maxim at the age of 20, when he was visiting Clover and happened to arrive in Raque. He saw her dancing and right away knew that he had to marry her, but they only talked briefly, before his return to Diamond.

Once Luciana was 22 her father fell ill and instead of continuing to look for a husband Luciana along with her hated stepmother took care of him. However they were not able to do anything and he passed away.

Luciana moved away from Raque and in the capital once again stumbled upon Maxim Drazel, who was on a diplomatic mission to Clover. They fell in love and she decided to marry him and move to Diamond's capital.

Trivia:

Luciana is the reason why the Drazels are hispanic

She can perform basic healings spells, but can't do anything serious

Luciana did not like Acier's husband, she would say that "Acier deserved better"

Girls liked to take care of Acier's younger sister and this made Luciana wish she had loving siblings of her own, so she decided to have many children

She loves taking care of kids and considers herself everyone's mama

She wanted to call her eldest daughter Gabriella (after her own mother), but agreed that Maxim's idea for the name Helena fit their little niña better -> so her second child is called Gabriel

And the rest of the kids have more hispanic names than Helena

She used to date the eldest son of the Noble House Delgado (Rafael's father), but broke up with him when her father fell sick

Luciana now has long hair but used to keep it short

She is a good lady of a House, but she knows her daughter is even better than she is, so she eagerly takes breaks and lets Helena practice

Luciana cares a lot about reputation and her daughter's reputation as "flimsy with her feelings" really bothered her

She's a big hugger

And a crybaby at times

Acier called her Luce

The girls snuck out together the first time to illegally drink alcohol (rebels ^^)

Luciana calls Maxim mi amor (The same way Helena later calls Nozel, that's where she took it from)

There are quite a few more facts about her, but they will be revealed further down the story once Luciana makes her reappearance.

[0alanasworld0]

Partings & Reunions (Abde Ezzalzouli x reader)

Description: Abde's move to Osasuna is a horrifying prospect for both of you and you worry that it'll be the thing to tear you apart

Warnings: allusions to sex (not detailed)

You’re not startled when you hear the door slam for the umpteenth time of the month. You couldn’t help but feel bad for your boyfriend. You were both so excited and hopeful when moving to Barcelona together: he was about to play for the club of his dreams and you were going to study at your dream university. 

It all seemed like it was falling into place, you had been together for years and friends long before that so the fact that you weren’t going to have to be apart was a comforting one. Even money-wise, it was perfect. You could easily afford a nice place when you put your heads together.

And indeed it was all just that. The arrangement went by without a hitch. Sure, he had some habits that you made sure he ironed out before things got out of control but things were smooth. You were both pretty busy but always made the most of the time you did have together with movie nights, evenings exploring the city, you could have all the fun you wanted together without facing the interruptions you used to deal with back home. You loved each other with everything; you had done since before you could even process such emotion.

All of that only made your current situation that much more painful. The step-up to the A team was a big one that he initially felt ready for. His season with the B team had been phenomenal so the step-up felt so right. He was excited beyond words and you couldn’t have been any prouder of him when he told you about the promotion. Neither of you could wait until the start of that fateful season rolled around. Yet it was so different to what he initially expected.

Match by match he felt his hope and excitement dwindle and turn into something different entirely. Resentment? That didn’t seem like a strong enough word for what he was feeling. He didn’t realise it at the time but the term ‘promotion’ was a sanitised way of being thrown to the wolves. He was… fine but the stakes proved far too high for a 20 year old who had only just moved up. He felt underprepared and unseen. Sometimes the pair of you wondered if the club was letting the twitter experts make decisions for the club as he fell further and further down the pecking order. It was like they didn’t even want to try.

It tore your heart into pieces to see him grow so disillusioned with the dreams he fought so hard to achieve. He had overcome so much adversity from his less than privileged background to the simple fact that he was a Moroccan living in Spain. That last part, you also suspected, played a role in this. 

He had lived in Spain long enough. So when the time came for him to make a choice, it seemed so obvious to pick the team that had won the world cup not too long ago and had spent the years after in the very top of the FIFA rankings. It seemed like an offer he couldn’t refuse but his heart was elsewhere. He didn’t remember much of Beni-Mellal but it was home. Sure, he didn’t live there anymore but he visited often enough. And there was always a part of that place that he missed when he returned to Spain. The warm yet refreshing air, the sound of the Adhan loud and clear when the prayer times rolled around, the people who always seemed to be ready to talk and gossip, the colours. It was home and choosing Spain felt like a betrayal to not only the place he called home but to himself. 

The media had spent the first few months of the season spreading the rumours about his allegiance to Spain. His silence led their imaginations to run wild. They’d conjured quotes out of nowhere but his media-training stopped him from addressing any of it: he knew better than to take those news sites head-on.

His silence also meant that when the official news of his choice did come out, from him, it was guns blazing and Abde was in the firing line. Even some of his teammates and coaches were surprised by it. Spain’s upcoming golden boy had seriously chosen Morocco. The joy he had seen online from Moroccans was enough for him to not care about the Spanish media but he did suspect that he had fallen even further out of favour with his dream team as a result. 

It all made him angry. Every match gone wrong, every minute on the bench, every dig he received from his coaches, every time he saw the under-performing Spaniards receive the support that he could have only dreamed of, it made him angry. Over the past few months a painful routine had emerged: the sound of the door slamming, the sight of him seething followed by the feeling of his body dropping unceremoniously into your lap. He was falling apart.

You would spend some time in silence and your hands softly carding through his messy hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. It would almost soothe him to sleep but before you reached that point, you would slowly coax him to the kitchen where you could eat. Even that task was becoming even more of a struggle with his appetite dying into nothing. 

At first he would hold back his tears until he was sure you were asleep, quietly make his way downstairs and let it out alone. He wanted nothing more than to fall into your arms and surround himself with your comfort but he already felt like such a burden. So he kept it to himself.

Although he couldn’t keep that up for long at all because about a week into that routine, you had caught him in the kitchen with his head in his hands, sobbing and that was that. You wrapped him up in a tight hug from behind, pressing soft kisses into his back until he calmed down a little. 

Once you got back to bed, you pulled him into your chest and the tears only started again. Yours were about to start too but you had to stay strong for him. He had done the exact same thing for you many times while you stressed about your exams. You had cried and vented to him more times than you could even remember, the idea of your academic career falling through your fingertips was one that came quite often yet was always more distressing every time you thought about it. He was the one to talk you down from your hysteria, to stroke your hair, to remind you just how highly he thought of you. This was now your time to return the favour, you supposed. Reminding him that his problems were yours, that you could never think any less of him, your starboy.

That was the new routine and it persisted but it felt different this time. The air was heavier. You felt uneasy for whatever reason. The look on his face was the same as it had been so you brushed off the instinct for a moment.

Although your concern returns when he forgoes the routine of laying in your lap and instead heads straight for the fridge without a glance in your direction. you don’t want to be annoying but you couldn’t help but be worried so you’re hot on his heels as he grabs an energy drink.

“Everything okay?”

“Yep” he pops the ‘p’ sound, still not bothering to look your way. You can imagine how annoyed he would be getting right about now, you had been in his shoes before but he had taught you plenty on how to deal with these things/

“C’mon, talk to me…”

“It’s nothing.” you weren’t having it, the little huff at the end of his sentence was enough indication of that so you’re firmer with your next word.

“Abdessamad”

“They’reshippingmeoff.” he mumbles, almost as he didn’t want anyone to hear, not even himself but again, you weren’t having any of it. He was gonna tell you what was wrong and you were gonna help him.

“What?”

“They’re shipping me off.” you hear it this time but you don’t quite believe it. They couldn’t? Could they?

“They can’t do that!”

“They ‘strongly recommend’ that I accept the loan to Osasuna. My career is in tatters before it’s even begun.” he shakes his head, he finally turns to face you and you can see the tears begin to form in his eyes.

“How would we even…” you trail off, completely dumbfounded by the news. Everything you had built here, together, was up in the air now. Your perfect little miracle world was on the brink of splitting into two. Literally. You didn’t realise how that one little word must have sounded to him in your shock. 

“How would we what?! I’m about to lose the only thing that I'm actually good at and you’re worried about long-distancing?!” he scoffs, he’s not thinking straight. Normally he managed to calm himself and share news with you without raising his voice, normally he wouldn’t overanalyse a single word but the news dumped on him today had set him off. 

“No of course not! I just-”

“Just what?!” he challenges. The raised voice startles you and now it's his turn to see the tears well up in your eyes. He comes back to reality almost immediately, shaking off his uncharacteristic rage but you’re already walking away. He fucked up. ROYALLY.

“I’ll give you a few minutes.” you mutter, speeding off to your shared bedroom and closing the door behind you before he can say anything. He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding, scolding himself for blowing up at you like that. You must have been just as shocked by the news as he was, probably lost for words and you most certainly didn’t mean to come across in the way he had interpreted. And to add to that, you had every right to worry about the impact on your relationship, a move like this one was going to affect both of you. He felt like the biggest asshole, he probably was one. 

He decides to listen to your suggestion, giving you both a few minutes to cool off, banging his head against the fridge door as he figured out how he was going to apologise. That kind of outburst was new and he wasn’t going to let it become a habit. He was taught better than that.

Meanwhile, behind the bedroom door, you’re having your own little meltdown. You didn’t mean to come across that way at all. Of course you worried for the state of the career he worked so hard to earn, but at the same time, you were soulmates. The idea of being apart for so long and even worse, the idea of splitting up was unbearable. You just couldn’t help but worry for the state of your relationship. As you lay on your bed, wracking over your brain for what you were going to say, you’re interrupted with the door opening. 

Abde can feel his heart breaking at the sight of you. The tears running down your cheeks, the stress and fear in your eyes. He hated that he was the source of it.

He couldn’t stand to see you in such and he’s quick to take his spot and lay next to you, turning to his side to face you.

“I’m-”

“A complete ass.” you finish his sentence quickly. He couldn’t help but laugh a little and you’re fighting off a smile as well. He gets back to being serious so he can get a proper apology out.

“You were only trying to see things from a bigger perspective. I shouldn’t have made you out to be the villain when you were only trying to help.” you finally glance at him, teary eyes a little softer and he’s relieved.

He’s even more relieved when you shift position and pull him into your arms, head comfortably under your chin and nose against your neck where he can smell your vanilla perfume, his favourite. You weren’t a fan yourself, you often said you smelled like a bakery, but it was comforting to him for whatever reason. so, especially in his recent state, you made more of an effort to wear it for him. Your effort doesn’t go unrecognised as he tries to get even closer to you, his face pressed further into your soft skin and he can finally breathe out again. And he can’t help but allow his eyes to flutter to a close when your nails scratch lightly at his scalp.

“Look, if you do have to make this move-”

“Not ‘if’ , sweets, ‘when’ …” he mumbles tiredly, sounding defeated as ever. It was probably best if you didn’t flirt around the reality of the situation. It was killing both of you but the sooner you both accepted it, the sooner you could make the most of the upcoming summer and the sooner you could figure out how you were gonna navigate things. Delusion wasn’t going to do you any good. And most importantly, it was clearly distressing him so you correct yourself.

“When you make this move, we’ll figure something out, okay? I’ll… visit every holiday, we’ll facetime everyday, anything but we have to try." The idea of him being so far away was a horrible one, to be frank. And the idea of not waking up next to him, losing the scent of his body wash and aftershave from the sheets and pillows, getting some sort of gadget to open jars instead of asking him, getting a stool so you could reach the stuff on the higher cupboards rather than letting him use his long arms; it was more than you could bear at that point. You don’t register the tears falling from your eyes until you feel his soft hand gently wipe them away.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, anjo. This is gonna be hard for both of us but we’re soulmates, we got this.” he tries to sound sure, like you had been doing for him over the past few months but it was so hard. The idea of breaking up made him sick to his stomach. You two had seen each other through everything. He didn’t have a connection with anyone else like he did with you, He knew that no one else would compete. You were the apple of his eye, the pinnacle. 

Your arms tighten around him and his own arms follow suit, not another word is spoken that night. Eventually, you do fall into a slumber. It's not particularly peaceful and you couldn’t get close enough to your boyfriend as all the possibilities for the future played out in your mind.

The next few months are spent trying to make the absolute most of the time you had left together. That paired with packing up his stuff made it bittersweet. You loved seeing so much of him, waking up next to him, eating all of your meals with him, falling asleep with him but the reminder of what was to come still lingered in the far back of your mind. Nothing that you kept in because you both still spent a fair few nights crying together. 

You went all out, travelling to all sorts of places and doing all kinds of activities that you had both planned. He was the designated photographer of it all, taking thousands of shots of you both on both of your phones as well as the polaroid camera he had bought for the occasion. There was no way he was leaving without storing up enough memories for the lonely nights. He had even taken to vlogging, silly little tiktok challenges that you both would ultimately fail miserably at and burst out into fits of laughter that would leave you breathless and with abs almost as defined as his own.

Your nights were so much more intimate. No rushing, no laziness, you took your time to appreciate each other. Every dip, scar, mark, freckle was to be loved on and admired. Amidst the deep love, you could feel each other's pain. It was still almost unbelievable that the two of you were going to have to spend a year apart at least. Nothing was left unsaid, the distress, fear and hurt being poured out in every movement. There was no wonder so many of those sessions left you both in tears at the end. 

You never got sick of him, how on earth were you going to manage without him. You had never needed the space before, you never wanted it yet over 400 miles… it was going to be a massive adjustment for both of you, that was for sure.

It was perhaps to be expected that on the day of his departure, neither of you could control your tears. Letting go of that final hug hurt you beyond words. You had spent the past few months well so there were no regrets on either end but still… one whole year. 

“You have your passport, right?” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And your-”

“Documents right here, anjo.” he whispers, arm still around you, the other patting the pocket of his suitcase containing everything.

“Text me when you get on the plane.”

“I’ll be facetiming you the whole way, hmm?”

“And let me know when you get off.”

“Of course.”

“And when you get all your luggage… And when you get to your new apartment!”

“Anjo, I’ll text you every minute of the way. How does that sound?” he teases with his signature smirk and you slap his chest lightly.

“I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure I get back to Barca, I promise you.” you smile up at him and nod. You trusted him. You knew exactly what he was capable of and you were sure that he was going to find the success he wanted. And if that success was finding his way back home, you were going to sit tight and wait for that day. 

You made sure to pack your perfume bottle in his suitcase and he left his aftershave (alongside a large chunk of his extensive sweater and hoodie collection) so both of you had a more intimate piece of home for when the loneliness got to you.

You’re trying so hard to hold back your sobbing when he finally has to let go and he walks over to his boarding area. He’s the exact same. It was just a year. You just had to wait and have a little faith and he would be back in your arms in no time.

Although you much preferred having him right at home, the year apart was far less excruciating than you first thought. You both keep to your word: facetiming and texting everyday, you visited whenever you could and sometimes he got a chance to come to Barcelona; sometimes to play against Espanyol and others to watch his new team play his old one. Those days were his favourite, although scarce as he wasn’t even allowed on the sub bench so he took to sitting with you in the stands. He loved being able to analyse the game with you by his side, it was like you had never been apart. He still made you laugh so hard you would cry and you still made each other's hearts beat faster when you took so much as a glance at each other.

But perhaps the best thing to come out of it, the thing that made it worth it, the thing that was giving you both faith in his return, was how well he was doing. You didn’t get to watch many of his matches in person but you still got the same rush of excitement and nerves running through your body when you watched him play, even from the TV. He had upped his game for sure and what warmed your heart the most was that he was enjoying himself. The smile on his face, even as he simply walked out onto the pitch to train, was so bright. You missed seeing it and his new club was clearly doing him a world of good. Not only was he improving at the speed of light but he looked happier, healthier. You were beginning to see the benefits of his time away from Barcelona, away from the fan surveillance and pressures, he wasn’t weighed down in the same way and had turned into a beast of a player in return. 

You could feel the excitement and hope radiating off him in your facetime calls after every match, win or loss. He would take you on mini tours of the pitches and introduce you to his teammates. 

Of course you both still had those nights where you felt lonely but there was hope. The months were passing by and the time had finally come in April in which talks were beginning about a possible return. He had kept his promise to you, he really had put his everything into improving and opening up the doors for a return to Barca. You couldn’t wait and you were now counting down the days until he would be back.

Perhaps the most rewarding thing you had seen was the crowd chanting his name during a facetime call. You weren’t quite sure how the team made it to the top of the belltower or how so many fans had managed to surround it but the atmosphere was somehow more electric than the pitch itself. He deserved every bit of the recognition he was receiving and moreover, he had found a family with Osasuna. It undoubtedly made his stay that much more bearable. It wasn’t even in the bearable category anymore, it was enjoyable!

It's mid-May when he is finally given the greenlight for his return. Not that any of it was being reported to the media, who would continue to wallow in speculation. You almost broke the sound-barrier celebrating when he gave you the glad tidings. Not that you ever had a doubt but you were so relieved that it was all coming back together again. Seeing your starboy light up the pitch again, seeing him find his smile again and now the certainty of his return… you could burst from happiness.

The next hurdle he had to overcome was his AFCON. The decision to move him to the u23s confused both of you but his mind was so much more at rest after his time with Osasuna so he didn’t find himself losing sleep over it. 

He found himself quite excited in fact, his first chance at captaincy and another chance at ending his season with a trophy. And he was ready to go for it. As if his loan wasn’t successful enough, Abde fit into the leadership role much more smoothly than he had expected. He was met with respect from his teammates and a level of trust that he wouldn’t dare break. He took it seriously, embarrassing his opposition and making his assists and goals look easy. He was truly on fire, match after match of carrying the games and embarrassing opposing defenders, he was loving every second of it. He especially loved the attention you paid to the armband; even across the phone you seemed spell-bound by the blue band around his bicep. Your captain. He loved being able to tease you for the little fixation, making sure to keep it in the frame of the camera and not-so-subtly flexing his left bicep so you would focus on it. 

Almost as fast as the tournament began, it was over and he was up on the podium, picking up his golden boot and then the trophy itself. When the celebrations had finally died down and everyone settled onto the ground, he called and you’re quick to answer, once again almost breaking the sound barrier as you celebrate his trophy. You wished desperately to be there with him but your schedule just didn’t align. Nonetheless, you were still going to enjoy the moment because finally, FINALLY, your boy was getting everything he deserved. It wouldn’t be too long until you had him in your arms either. Although you would have to wait another week as his family were planning on staying for a while, at least that was what he originally planned. 

“Dude, you won’t stop talking to or about the girl and you haven’t stopped since September. We can do this stuff another time, just get back to Barcelona and end my torture.” Mohammad teases and it has Abde excited again. He had an idea.

You take the setting sun as a sign to start getting on with your skincare before going to sleep but as you’re walking over, you hear the doorbell ring. You were due a package a couple hours earlier but you assumed that there was a delay but perhaps not. You open the door, ready to grab your long-awaited parcel and ready to sign the little device, not really bothering to look up but instead you’re met with a pair of familiar sneakers. There was no way.

You attempt to solve what could have only been a hallucination by looking up. But, no. You weren’t hallucinating at all. Those beautiful green eyes looking into yours again.

“Surprise!” he waves awkwardly and you still haven’t found words. So you do the next best thing and throw yourself at him for a hug that knocks the breath out of him. Your arms constrict around his shoulders and you hide your face in his neck as he slowly walks you back into the house. He’s immediately comforted by the scent of vanilla and he sighs out in relief. He was home.

He feels his shirt getting wet before he feels you sobbing. He knows exactly how you feel so he just places a hand on your head, keeping you close and reminding you that he was right there, in the flesh, and he had no intention of leaving for that long ever again.

Eventually, you manage to look back at him, eyes slightly puffy from crying but your joy was evident.

“It's not like you to be early!” you point out and he gasps, stomping over to the couch with you still in his arms. He gently drops you onto it before falling on top of you himself and you both start laughing at the situation. It eventually dies down though and he lifts himself up so he can look at you. You lift up a hand to stroke over his features and he does the same for you.

“You’re really home.” there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe it. Sure you were counting down the days but still, the fact that he was here now was simply mind-blowing for you. Abde, your Abde was home.

“And I’m not going anywhere for a long time, you had better get used to it!”

“I’m sure I’ll manage…” you roll your eyes and he huffs, dropping his head back down so he was laying on your chest. Neither of you have the energy for anymore words so you just lay there on the couch, in complete silence, revelling in the reunion that had felt so far away not too long ago. Your boy was finally back home.

Yh this wasn’t a request or anything, i just let this idea marinate enough in my head so i had to share haha. I hope u guys enjoy <3

[msviolacea]

Thoughts on a very strange week. tw for discussion of death inside, mostly just introspection and babbling here.

It's still mostly unreal. You don't expect someone in their mid-40s to just drop dead at home. She had some fairly serious health issues, but it felt more like the "here are some really sucky things you'll have to live with for the next few decades," not ... this.

I knew Janine for what is, this year, exactly half of my life. Fandom brought us together, but after I recommended her for a job at the dysfunctional old office, that turned into more than two decades of professional camaraderie on top of friendship. I hadn't been as close to her as I was after we both left the old job, even after she ended up working at my new job, but by that point she felt like extended family. Someone who's always there, who you can pick up with at any point, who remembers all your weird family bullshit and strange personal quirks.

We always had music in common - music brought us together, and music ended up being the way we interacted outside of work more often than not. The last time I spent any time out of the office with her was last year, when she called and offered me her spare Matt Nathanson ticket, so we went and spent a Saturday afternoon singing and laughing at that new-ish venue up by the Twins stadium, then hanging out on the sidewalk afterwards for an hour, just catching up on all the things you don't talk about at work. I told her that she needed to come see our new house. She said that she'd love to, if the transportation worked out. (Her retinopathy was slowly stealing her eyesight, and had gotten to the point where she didn't feel comfortable driving in anything less than good light.)

She wasn't in the best friend tier, but she was in the family tier. And losing her feels like this weird numb void right now.

They did an informal gathering at the office yesterday, and I'm glad I went, because it showed me how much of an effect she'd had, now that she was in a department that allowed her to shine at the things she was good at. There's a whole cadre of 20-something research coordinators who just lost their "work mom," and are devastated. She knew who coached their old high school sports team, who watched the same reality TV as she did, who had medical issues that needed tending and who had kids getting over the latest school virus. She fussed over everyone, laughed with everyone, and was everyone's most enthusiastic cheerleader. (Everyone except herself, that is.) She entertained everyone with tales of her nieces and nephews and great-nieces and great-nephews, gossip and drama from the community theater troupe she worked with, and stories about her trips to visit friends and see concerts across the country.

She wasn't always cheerful. She had family issues, like many of us, and she never did find someone to share her life with and have kids with the way she wanted. She was high-strung when contending with the unknown in her professional life, though it seems that improved at least a bit in her current role - we all improved once we were out of that shitty office with its mold and self-important nurses who never left high school gossip behind. She was complicated and sometimes frustrating, but she had so much love to give everyone, and the enthusiasm to share that love wherever she went.

But now she's gone. And the world is a little dimmer for it.

After yesterday's gathering, I'm taking two life lessons away, things I'm going to work hard to remind myself of and put into practice in my own life. One, do the things you want to do, the things that are important to you, now. There's never enough time, and you don't know when yours will end. And two, expressing your interest in someone else's life is never the wrong move. There are sometimes when you live too much here on the internet where people try to convince you that reaching out to others is actually an imposition, because there's a weird philosophy that the only polite thing to do in this world is to leave everyone alone until they explicitly say they're interested in you. But that's bullshit. I sat there yesterday and listened to a bunch of people who were so, so grateful that Janine had made herself a part of their lives, large or small, and will remember her kindness and attention in some way for a very, very long time to come. Hell, I'm one of them. And to honor her, I'm going to try to come out of my introvert shell just a tiny bit more and try to be that light to someone else more often, when I have an extra spoon or two to spare.

I feel very odd this week. Odd, and emotionally drained, and not quite all mentally here. Death isn't a stranger to me, but that doesn't mean it doesn't punch me in the gut every time it comes calling.

Anyway. If you read this far, do me a favor - go listen to your favorite 80s or 90s boy band, or your favorite Broadway musical (especially Wicked), or your favorite boy-with-guitar singer-songwriter, and send a thought out into the universe for a woman you probably never met, but who deserves to be remembered anyway, even if it's just for the length of a song.