#I have musical rehearsal until 6:30 every school night

[nami-moittli]

Maybe showing off how Azul came running home with my first single key (before I even did the free ten pull they give you) will make me not want to cry anymore!

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, co-written with @darkmagyk [read on ao3]

“I’m in love,” Piper tells her when she shows up for another fitting. “Have you seen the new Beyonce video?”

“I heard the song.” Annabeth says, “isn’t that enough?”

“God, your whole play-acting thing is too far if you’re pretending to not like Beyonce.”

“I never said that.” Annabeth holds up her hands, “I like the song. But I did not see the video.”

“Well, when you see it, you’ll be in love too, but I will fight you.”

Piper could be scrappy in a fight. But Annabeth had been a champion fencer in high school.

“Kidding!” Piper says at her look. “There’s plenty of them to go around.” She didn’t even start to drape fabric over Annabeth, pushing her onto a muslin covered couch, and then pulling the video on the TV. She didn’t have one of those voice control devices. Because she was friends with Leo, and he was pretty firm on them being evil. “But I do call dibs on the main guy. The CALVES. The thighs. He’s unreal.”

“That good?” Piper went all ways, though as of late she gravitated towards women more often than not, so this was some high praise indeed. 

“Unreal, I am telling you. Like, the hand of God came down and sculpted him personally out of marble.”

Already in her recent watch history, the thumbnail of the video greets them, the song title splashed across the TV screen, weaving between  a very, very familiar set of legs. 

Like, intimately familiar. 

In something of detached horror, she watches the camera pan up, lovingly lingering on every inch of bare skin, following the muscles of his calves (which were unreal) to his knees then his thighs (which Annabeth had spent almost too much time between now), up his torso and his chest (which she knew made for an excellent pillow) to Percy’s face, set in a firm, hard stare. 

And that fucking blue lipstick again. 

She can’t even focus on Beyonce herself, too distracted by the way her hand traces the length of Percy’s outstretched thigh held in perfect arabesque as she gracefully drapes herself over him, crooning softly into his ear.

Annabeth should do that next time. That’s her spot, after all. 

Tearing her eyes away from the screen even as Piper watches, enraptured, she slips out her phone, sending a quick, furious text. 

annabeth: BEYONCE???????

A minute, then he responds. 

percy: oh lol i didn’t realize that came out today 😁

percy: what’d you think?

annabeth: i think im going to kill you later

“Just look at him,” Piper says, pausing on Percy’s form, his arms outstretched, fingers placed delicately around a bar. “I mean--look at him!”

“Yeah,” she chuckles, maybe a little uneasy. “He’s alright I guess.”

Incredulous, Piper swivels her head. “Alright? Alright? Do you need your eyes checked?”

She just shrugs. 

Why is she being so weird about this? It’s just Piper. She’s trained to find symmetry and beauty in bodies. They’ve happily shared crushes and fixations plenty of times before, so why is Annabeth being so weird about Percy? It’s not like they’re… you know… dating or anything. Just hooking up a bit. 

Piper squints at her, then shrugs herself. “Fine. I don’t have time to get an answer out of you anyway. Come on.”

“Speaking of time,” Annabeth says, following Piper back into the kitchen studio, “I have to head out by 6:30.”

“Oh yeah?” Piper’s head is buried in her belt box, searching for the perfect accent. “What for?”

“I’ve got a show to catch.”

“Kind of early,” she says, pulling out something thin and silver. “Don’t you usually meet Thalia at the ass crack of midnight?”

“Well I kind of want to eat first.”

“Okay.” She cinches the belt around her waist, tight. “Then you’re going to have to help me with this skirt.”

***

Hands aching from hours of macrame, Annabeth walks up to the box office window at the Koch Theater at 7:46, having a handful of second thoughts. 

Old, uppity white couples keep shooting her some particularly intense passive aggressive glares, some of them even venturing into actually aggressive territory, which usually wouldn’t even register on her very short list of things to care about, except that she is feeling woefully out of place. The lady in front of her has ten pounds of diamonds hanging off of each old, wrinkly ear, and the best Annabeth could do was fish out her least-ripped pair of jeans, pairing it with one of her nicer black shirts, the sleeves long enough to cover most of her tattoos. The macrame kept her longer than she had meant, so she didn’t have time to change before dinner, but fuck it, right?

She did also take out most of her face jewelry on the way. But she left the nose stud, obviously. And the tongue piercing. And the industrial, because Percy really likes those, so she doesn’t feel that bad about it. And he hadn’t even told her about this until after she had already given herself the half-undercut, so it’s not like she could do anything about that either.

“Can I help you?” At least this box office worker isn’t giving her the stink-eye. 

“I’m here to pick up a ticket? Should be under ‘Jackson.’” He’d offered to leave it under her name, but this was safer. She doesn’t think her mom is a big ballet person, but she isn’t about to risk it, either.

She slides the ticket towards Annabeth beneath the glass plane. “Enjoy the show,” she says, with a quirk of her mouth that is surprisingly sincere for someone in customer service. 

She’s pretty sure she’d enjoy the show more if she weren’t panicking thinking about getting dirt on their fancy carpets. Her boots are clean, of course, and she doesn’t really care, but she doesn’t want to, like, embarrass Percy or whatever. She’d asked him if she should dress up, but he’d assured her otherwise. “No one’s going to care, I promise,” he’d told her the night before, her lounging in his bed while he did some pushups. “And if anyone says something, let me know and we can kick their ass after the show together.”

“Great. Guess I don’t have to break out the Chanel, then.”

He’d paused, frowned, then huffed a laugh, shaking his head. Like the idea of Annabeth wearing Chanel was hilarious. Like what she’s wearing tonight really is the best that she can do.

Self-consciousness isn’t really a feeling that Annabeth has anymore. She’s spent so many years chafing against expectations, shucking them off when she inevitably failed to meet them, desperate for a place, a crowd where she could just be. In her scene, she doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone, and when Percy is out with her, he doesn’t need any convincing. He likes her. He likes her a lot, she thinks. He likes her enough to let himself be dragged out to every shitty dive bar and shittier rock show in New York City, laughing and cheering and holding her close the whole time. He likes her enough to cart her to his apartment at 4 AM, inevitably waking Nico up from his undead slumber, and leave her with nothing but a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead. And she likes him, too--a lot. Annabeth likes Percy enough to ditch her band t-shirts for a night and track mud on the carpet of the Koch Theater and willingly sit through a performance of fucking Swan goddamn Lake of all things, and it’s only a little scary how much she is willing to do for him after only a few months of fucking him. Because this really isn’t her scene, not anymore. 

The weight of everyone’s stares bears down on her, threatening to crush her beneath them, a feeling she was so sure she’d left behind. 

At least Percy had been thoughtful enough to get her a ticket out of the way in the back of one of the balcony sections. It’s a bit of a hike, but the audience members aren’t dressed quite as nicely as the ones downstairs, and she feels like she can breathe a little easier.

She pulls out her phone, checking her text messages on instinct. There’s a selfie from Percy in his stage makeup (and she’s not going to lie… he looks fucking pretty), with his standard accompanying three blue heart emojis. She can’t help it, her heart skips a beat and she can’t help but smile, even as she rolls her eyes. She’s just about to send him something appropriately sarcastic when another text notification slides in. It’s from her father. 

Hi Annabeth… I was talking to a friend in Boston who said he's looking for a new 

prospective in his architecture firm. Passed your information along. 

Love you, dear

She swipes it away. Deletes the whole text conversation, for good measure. 

Forget about him. This night is about Percy.

A few minutes later, so engrossed in Percy’s program bio (it’s about all she can focus on right now), she doesn’t even notice everyone around her leaning forward in breathless anticipation, until the warm, honey-like sound of the oboe draws her head up. 

Roughly two minutes in, she’s really wishing she had attempted the synopsis. The extent of her knowledge of Swan Lake is a few half-remembered orchestra rehearsals in her teens and reading the Wikipedia article on that Natalie Portman movie a few months ago, and she definitely doesn’t recall there being anything about any Men-in-Tights looking motherfuckers prancing around. They’re sort of bobbing, back and forth, elegantly stepping from one side of the stage to another. Even from back here, she can see the delicate, precise placement of their hands, fingers curved just so, moving through space as though they aren’t bound by the laws of physics.

The fingers, she remembers. She could never get the hang of the fingers. Her old ballet teacher had given up on them after a week, and that had been the beginning of the end for that particular extracurricular. 

Now her fingers tap on her jeans, impatient, far faster than the easy going music on stage. She’s just about to give in to the millennial instinct and pull out her phone, maybe play a round of sudoku, when the dancers motion as one to the back corner, and Percy comes stepping out. His hair is perfectly slicked back, gelled down, any hint of curl beaten into submission, and his smile is small, but white, gleaming against the tanned brown of his skin. She can’t help but smile back, like he could somehow see her. Finally, she thinks, relaxing a little more into her seat. Something to watch.

On his off days, her off days, any day when she would spent the night at his (always at his, never at hers) and wake up wrapped in his comforter and the smell of seawater, she would take the blanket with her and steal into his living room, curl up on his couch with her feet tucked under her legs, and watch him dance. She’s seen him drill these sequences over, and over, and over again, counting furious sequences of sixes and eights beneath his breath in duet with the thuds of his feet on his floor. Most times he would notice her and shoot her a grin, granting her permission to observe the artist at work. Sometimes, though, he would be so caught up in his body, the shifting of his feet and the music in his head, that it was like he couldn’t see her at all. Seemingly alone, he would dance, uninhibited, and she would be struck by a feeling that she usually reserves for specific monuments. Watching Percy dance in his apartment, in his brown tights and black tank top, lost in his own world, is like looking at pictures of the Gateway Arch, or the Hoover Dam, or the Parthenon.

She searches for that feeling now, leaning forward in her seat, eyes hungrily raving his form, but she just doesn’t see it. It’s… honestly, it’s a little boring. She won’t lie. He had warned her it would be something of a slow start, but this isn’t exactly an ADHD friendly medium, and she is losing her patience, just a bit. He’s so reserved, like he’s holding something close to his chest, impersonal as he takes the hands of the female dancers and lets them twirl around him. 

Personally, Annabeth thinks that he looks kind of lost. Maybe he’s just nervous--it’s a big role and he’s a young guy. But he had seemed fine when he’d kissed her goodbye just after lunch. 

The court jester is killing it though. Feeling just the slightest bit guilty, she lets her eyes drift over to him, deciding to watch him for a while instead.

On some level, she does appreciate the skill on display here. Percy can raise his back leg in a perfect ninety degree angle that would make her architecture professors sweat. The girls drift back and forth across the stage on the tips of their toes, weightless and ethereal. It’s mesmerizing, and she lets herself be mesmerized.

Time must slip away from her, because she blinks and all of a sudden the stage has gone from sunny yellow to cool blue, the crowds of dancers having vanished. He is alone on stage. Percy kneels in a deep lunge that makes her thighs ache just looking at him (and for… other reasons), his arms and his attention pointed to the wings, with a… Annabeth squints. When the hell did he get a crossbow?

But everything is swept to the sides when the White Swan tiptoes her way on stage, impossibly graceful, and all of a sudden, Annabeth gets it. 

It feels a little cliche to say, but the way that woman moves on the floor really does remind her of those old, vintage jewelry boxes, suspended in animation, moved by some otherworldly force. It’s amazing. It’s a little terrifying. Sublime is the word that comes to mind as Annabeth watches her. Her arms move with fluidity, perfect curves, her fingers trailing behind her like wings. 

And Percy is just as mesmerized as Annabeth is. As the audience is. 

A few things hit her, in rapid succession. First, that Percy is, actually, a really good actor. His reticence before--he’d been playing a character. He’d been playing aloof and reserved and unmoored, because Percy--Siegfried--whatever--has been waiting his whole life for something to fulfill him, until this singular moment, the moment he laid eyes on this beautiful creature. Second, that she doesn’t need words to understand what’s going on. It’s all there, in every look and gesture and step, as the two characters circle each other, slowly but irrevocably falling in love. And third, that she recognizes the look on his face. It’s the look that Percy gives her when she has been talking for too long and he can’t get a word in edgewise, or when she screams along to the god awful underground bands, three beers in and missing every single fuck she’d ever had, or when she wakes up after him to Percy’s arms around her waist, her hair in his mouth and her head resting against his collarbone. She recognizes it, because that’s the look that Siegfried has for Odette. Because that’s the look that Percy has for Annabeth. Because he loves her.

And fourth, that that doesn’t make her as happy as she wishes it would. 

There’s a cold pit in her stomach for the rest of the show, a turning screw that twists in deeper, minute by minute, with every turn of the dancers. She wastes the next hour trying to puzzle this out, not even pretending to watch the drama unfolding on stage, because it makes no goddamn sense. (Her situation, not the ballet--she managed to skim the synopsis during intermission, her foot tapping incessantly against the blessedly empty seat in front of her.) Things are great between them. It’s been a heady, intoxicating four months, full of bubbles and butterflies, sweet, soft mornings, and some really, really phenomenal sex. This should make her happy. This should put her over the fucking moon, and she cannot, for the life of her, figure out why it doesn’t.

The prima ballerina comes back out as the Black Swan, just as poised and precise as her counterpart, but she’s a great actress as well, because there is something undeniably different about her. Her arms move like rubber, like joints are just an afterthought, wrapping themselves around Percy’s neck and shoulders. She misdirects his attention, drawing his eyes to her wrists, her clavicle, the curve of a leg or the point of her toe. Seducing him. Tricking him. 

Like Annabeth. 

Because try as she might to run from it, Annabeth isn’t who she says she is. She wants so desperately to be this fuck-the-rules, fight-the-power, punk rock princess that she took every part of her that didn’t fit that image and tried to rip it out of her, bloody and struggling. Her trust fund, her two (two!) Harvard degrees, her enriched childhood and her bright and shining future; she took it all out back and shot it, and prayed that would be the end of it. She’s a phony, just like that goddamn Black Swan. Percy is in love with a phony. 

Her sweet, wonderful, devastatingly kind and handsome Percy--she tricked him and made him fall in love with a mishmash of archetypes and aesthetics, distracting him with nose piercings and ripped t-shirts and ugly, deafening noise. 

She’s not surprised that she’s crying when the curtain falls. She’d never known that Siegfried and Odette both died at the end. 

When the cast reunites for curtain call, Percy is given a standing ovation, and Annabeth enthusiastically joins in, wiping the tears from her eyes, smearing her makeup. 

She doesn’t wait for him at the stage door, but sits on the steps of the theater, plucking at her sleeves, aching for a drink and wishing she had had the presence of mind to wear something a little nicer. Percy finds her there almost an hour after the show ended. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

In the dark of night, illuminated only by streetlamps, she can’t read his face--but she can read exhaustion, in every part of his body. “I was waiting for you by the stage door.”

Something in her stomach goes cold. “I… wasn’t sure if I was allowed,” she offers, weakly. 

He smiles, a light in the dark. “Of course you’re allowed,” he says, offering her a hand. “Shall we?”

She knows what will happen next. She’ll take his hand, and they’ll walk to the subway together, fingers intertwined. They’ll get on the 1 train headed north, and Percy will let her rest her head against him, tilting his head back against the window, eyes closed, almost asleep. The doorman will nod at them as they walk up to Nico’s apartment, barely batting an eye at his sweats and her ripped jeans, the two of them sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of impeccably dressed rich New Yorkers. Nico will wave at them distractedly from his office, gulping down his sixth coffee of the night, and they’ll tiptoe into his room, falling asleep in each other’s arms with little more than a good night kiss. 

Which, of course, is exactly what does end up happening.

Almost. 

Annabeth crawls on top of him in his bed, kissing him soft and senseless. She doesn’t know where he’s getting this energy from, but she is not complaining as he slips up inside of her, the two of them rocking each other gently to orgasm, their foreheads pressed together. Shuddering as he comes, he captures her mouth in another kiss, pouring every ounce of love he has in him into her.

A waste, honestly. 

But as far as goodbye sex, it’s pretty damn great. 

She needs to end this, before either of them get hurt. It’s the least of what he deserves, after all. To put yourself out there, to offer yourself up like that, that might be the bravest thing Annabeth’s ever heard of, and surely, Annabeth can find the courage to do what needs to be done.

[massivedrickhead]

you’ve done lots of prompts recently with Chloe taking care of Beca could you do one the other way around? Thank you ❤️

Read on AO3

Chloe was tired. Frustrated. Burned out.

She felt like the Bellas and classes for college were taking everything from her, and she was running on empty.

She was feeling almost claustrophobic in the Bellas house, so tried to spend as much time away as she could without raising questions.

The Bellas trusted her to lead them to victory at the Worlds in a few months, and she couldn’t let them down.

They were relying on her, she couldn’t let them know she was cracking.

That she was breaking.

She should have known there was one person who she couldn’t hide this from.

It was late one night when she was sat staring at an almost empty word document on her laptop, her eyes burning with exhaustion, her head throbbing, when she heard a quiet knock at her bedroom door.

“Yeah?” She said, her voice a little rough. She coughed to clear her throat, and turned to see Beca standing in her doorway. “What’s up?”

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah?” Chloe said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“It’s 2 am,” Beca said. “Not exactly typical Chloe Beale hours.”

Chloe looked at her watch. She hadn’t realised it had gotten so late. “I, uh, must have lost track of time. I’m trying to write this paper but,” she cleared her throat again, “I’m having some trouble.”

Beca stepped further into the room and looked over Chloe’s shoulder at the screen.

“When is it due?” Beca asked.

“Tomorrow,” Chloe said. “Or… today I guess.”

Beca nodded. “Okay,” she said. “What do you need?”

“What do I need?”

“You want water and some aspirin I’m guessing,” Beca said. “Do you want coffee? Maybe a snack?”

“Uh…”

“I’ll be right back,” Beca said, leaving Chloe sitting, her mouth half open mouthed in confusion.

Beca was back in five minutes holding two mugs of coffee, a bottle of water tucked under her arm and a bag of chocolate coated pretzels held between her teeth.

Chloe’s favourite.

Beca placed the mugs on Chloe’s desk, followed by the bottle of water and the pretzels, before digging in her pocket for the strip of aspirin pills.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, worried she was about to cry. She took two aspirin and gulped down half the bottle of water. “How did you know I had a headache?”

Beca shrugged. “You always get headaches when you concentrate too hard.” She sat on Chloe’s bed, her back against the headboard. “Come take a break.”

“Bec I have like eight hours to finish this,” Chloe said.

“Come take a break. You’re not gonna get any further with it if you just keep staring at the screen like that.” Beca tapped the spot on the bed beside her, and Chloe gave in and joined her.

She was never very good at saying no to Beca.

“Thank you for this,” Chloe said, taking a sip of the coffee, smiling because Beca knew how she took it.

“No problem,” Beca said. “How come you left your paper so last minute?”

“I dunno,” Chloe said, taking another sip. “I kinda forgot about it. I kept putting it off.”

“Do you think you can get it done tonight?”

“I have to,” Chloe said. “As long as I don’t fall asleep at the keyboard, I should be okay.”

Beca laughed. “I’ll just throw a pretzel at you every time you nod off.”

“Are you going to stay here all night?” Chloe said, laughing too.

“Why else do you think I made myself a coffee?” 

Chloe turned to look at her, and realised she wasn’t joking. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Beca said. 

Chloe couldn’t help but smile. She leaned in and kissed Beca on the cheek, before moving back to sit at her desk. 

“You’re not just gonna sit and watch me, are you? I’ll get performance anxiety,” Chloe said.

“No,” Beca replied, laughing. “I’m gonna go grab my laptop, I’ll be right back.”

When Beca returned, laptop in hand, Chloe was typing quickly. Her notes were spread over the rest of her desk, and she kept pausing to look at them. Her finger would trace down the page until she found a quote she was looking for, and then she’d carrying on typing. 

They didn’t speak for a while. Chloe seemed to be on a roll but Beca was facing her own block.

It was the reason she’d even been up at 2 am in the first place.

A music producer wanted to hear what she had to offer, and Beca had been terrified to discover that she had absolutely nothing original to say.

To her, making mixes was as easy as breathing. She heard music in a way that not many other people did. She could deconstruct and rebuild songs with ease. She could combine them and remake them without any doubt or fear.

But to create something new? To make something out of nothing? That, she was discovering, she couldn’t do. If making mixes was like breathing, this was like breathing underwater.

She just couldn’t do it.

“I’m gonna need a vacation after this,” Chloe mumbled after a while.

Beca laughed, still staring at the empty track on her laptop.

“What are you working on?” Chloe asked.

“Nothing,” Beca replied, looking up. “How are you getting on?”

“Maybe halfway?” Chloe said. 

“That’s great,” Beca said, smiling. “Do you need another coffee?”

“No, I’m good thanks Becs,” Chloe said. “Let me hear what you’re working on?”

“It’s nothing,” Beca said. “Having a bit of a creative block so there’s nothing to hear. Anyway, don’t let me distract you, you were on a roll before.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, frowning slightly. She turned back to her laptop and carried on typing.

Beca sank back against the headboard, and closed out the music program. 

“Where would you go?” She asked after another period of silence, the only sounds coming from Chloe’s keyboard.

��Huh?” Chloe asked, rubbing her eyes, clearly exhausted.

“If you went on vacation, where would you go?”

“I dunno,” Chloe said. She thought for a minute. “I guess… I kinda miss the sea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “The sea makes me feel… calm. When I was a teenager and I’d have a bad day, I’d just go for a walk on the beach and it always made me feel better.”

“Okay,” Beca said.

“Shame there’s no beach near here, huh?” Chloe asked before she carried on typing.

“Yeah,” Beca said, already pulling Google maps up on her laptop. 

Chloe finished her paper at 5:30, the sound of her closing her laptop lid in triumph waking Beca from her nap.

“You did it?” Beca asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I did it,” Chloe said, smiling. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“No problem,” Beca said, laughing slightly as she realised she’d spent the last hour asleep. 

Chloe climbed into bed beside her, relieved she now had one less thing to worry about.

“Do you want me to go?” Beca asked.

“No,” Chloe said. “Do you want to go?”

“Not really,” Beca replied. “Do you want me to set an alarm?”

“I don’t have any classes tomorrow,” Chloe said.

“Me neither.”

As Chloe got comfortable, Beca began typing something into her laptop.

“What are you doing?”

Beca hit enter, and the soft sounds of the ocean started playing through the speakers.

“I can do some seagull impressions too if you want?”

Chloe laughed, and pulled Beca close to her, her arms wrapping around Beca’s waist. 

“Dork,” she said, smiling.

“Rude,” Beca replied, also smiling.

“Do you wanna talk about the creative block thing?” Chloe asked, trying not to let her eyes close.

“Not right now,” Beca said. “It’ll pass, don’t worry.”

“I can’t help but worry,” Chloe said, cuddling Beca tighter.

“I know,” Beca replied. “But you worry too much. You worry about everyone. Everything. You’re not allowed to worry about this too.”

“Bossy.”

Beca laughed, and felt Chloe’s breath tickle her neck as she laughed too.

“Go to sleep weirdo.”

——

A few days later, Beca knocked on Chloe’s bedroom door again.

“Come in.”

Beca entered, and saw Chloe sitting on her bed, still in her work-out gear, unlacing her running shoes.

Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was in a messy ponytail, strands sticking to her face.

Beca forgot for a moment why she had entered the room. 

Post-work-out Chloe always distracted her.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Beca asked.

“It’s Saturday, we have an all day rehearsal,” Chloe said, confused at how Beca could have forgotten this.

Beca bit her lip, trying not to grin too hard. “We had an all day rehearsal. Can you be up and ready for like 7 am tomorrow? And make sure you pack like warmish clothes. Enough for one day and night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You wanna vacation or not?”

——

Beca was half asleep at the kitchen table when Chloe got downstairs at 6:45 the next morning. 

“Ready?” Beca asked with a yawn.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

Beca smiled but shook her head.

“Come on,” Beca said, standing up. “Your chariot awaits.”

“My chariot?”

“My dad’s Toyota, same thing.”

——

They drove for almost five hours before Chloe spotted the sea, and the squeal of delight was like music to Beca’s very tired ears.

It was another hour before they reached their Airbnb for the night, and then, hand-in-hand, they walked to the beach.

It was mostly deserted and the beach itself seemed to be more pebbles and stones than the sand Chloe had grown up with, but she didn’t care.

She could feel the sea air making its way through her. Shaking out all the creases and blowing away all the cobwebs.

She felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in months. She didn't feel the crushing responsibility of school and the Bellas anymore.

The smell of the sea was like home, and the sound of it was more comforting than she could explain.

It wasn’t a rough sea, but the soft sound of the water being pulled back across the rocks, before rushing forward up and onto the beach seemed to empty her head of every negative thought.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, softly, squeezing Beca’s hand. “I needed this.”

“You know you can tell me when you’re struggling, right? I know you feel like you need to keep it together for the rest of the Bellas… Like you need to be strong and calm all the time, but you don’t. At least not with me. We’re co-captains, remember? Partners. We’re supposed to share the load, and I feel like you’ve been carrying mine this year.”

“I just… I don’t want to fail. I don’t want to let everyone down. If we don’t win… If the Bellas have to disband after this year… They’re my home, Beca. My family. I can’t lose that.”

“You won’t lose it,” Beca said. “No matter what happens, we’re still family. Nothing will change that.”

“Even if we lose? Even if this legacy that’s existed for years and years has to stop? Because of me?”

“Not because of you. This isn’t all on you,” Beca said, brushing away one of Chloe’s tears. “Chloe, we’re all still in this because we’re a family, you know that right? We’re not here to win trophies and titles, we’re here because we like being together. We like singing and hanging out and living together.”

Chloe laughed softly and another tear fell. “The girls are all working so hard and-”

“-for you,” Beca said. “They’re working hard because they can see how much it means to you. They don’t care about winning, not really, not deep down. They just don’t want to let you down. They love you. I… I love you, Chloe.”

Chloe swallowed and more tears fell. She turned to look back out to the sea, waiting for the sounds to calm her again, but her heart was pounding too hard for that to happen.

Beca didn’t know whether she should be freaking out or not, but Chloe’s hand was still in hers, so that hard to be a good sign. It grounded her enough to keep on talking.

“Whatever happens at the Worlds, it won’t change anything. We’ll still always be the Bellas. We’ll still be Beca and Chloe. I’ll still be in love with you,” Beca said. “And you don’t need to say that back, if you don’t feel the same. But I wanted you to know. To me, you’ll never be a failure, or a disappointment.”

There was a silence between them that, to Beca at least, felt like it lasted a lifetime.

She didn’t understand how Chloe didn’t know how much they all loved her.

How much she loved her.

The silence stretched on, punctuated by the sounds of seagulls and waves crashing. 

Beca might have found it relaxing, if her stomach wasn’t busy tying itself in knots.

She was sure of one thing though, and that was that she didn’t regret what she’d said.

She knew she’d never regret telling Chloe that she loves her.

“Beca,” Chloe’s voice broke slightly, and she coughed to clear it. “Beca, I never thought… I’d almost given up…”

“On what?”

“On us. On us being more than friends. And don’t get me wrong, Beca. I love being friends with you. Your friendship is everything to me. But… But I always wanted… I always hoped we would have more.”

“Me too,” Beca said. “It’s not too late for that, right?”

“No,” Chloe said, smiling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Never.”

“Cool,” Beca said, grinning. “Can I kiss you?”

Chloe nodded, and closed her eyes at the feeling of Beca’s hands cupping her face. 

When their lips met, Chloe thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

“No more shouldering this alone, okay?” Beca said, their eyes closed, foreheads touching.

“Okay,” Chloe said.

“We’re a team.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, not knowing if she wanted to laugh or cry. “God, I love you. I love you so much, Beca.”

“I love you too.”

[demigodsanswer]

Once Upon a Pointe - Chapter 6

Story Summery:

“Annabeth, you’re with Percy,’ Chiron said. Annabeth. She looked like the figurine in a little girl’s music box had come to life to dance in City Ballet. Percy felt like every opportunity to dance with her was a privilege. Just don’t forget the choreography, Percy thought as he got into the right starting spot for the wedding pas de deux. Don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her.”

Percy is soloist with the ballet company, and he is offered one chance to dance with Annabeth, one of their star principals. If he nails the choreography, he might just earn a chance to dance with her. And, if he’s really lucky, he might get a date out of it as well.

Chapter Title: Vision

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning

Notes: I am in no way finished bringing attention to issues of race, religion, and cultural appropriation in Rick Riordan’s books & in the fandom. Do not misinterpret me posting an update as a desire to move forward. 

Katheryn Morgan (soloist with the Miami City Ballet) has recently uploaded an interview with the dancer and author of "A Final Bow for Yellowface" Phil Chan, where they discuss race in ballet. Please consider checking it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYw2pLn9CAg

Percy woke up to the soft February sun beaming in his face through Annabeth’s large bedroom window. When he opened his eyes, squinting in the sunlight, he saw that she had already gotten up. He rolled over to check his phone – 8:30 a.m.

They both had today and the next day off before the show as other casts ran their dress rehearsals. Usually he spent his days off wandering the city, catching up on TV, or hanging out with Grover once his boring and normal nine-to-five job at a nonprofit ended. But those days off didn’t usually start in Annabeth Chase’s bed – in face, none of them ever had. He hoped that maybe they’d end up spending the day together.

Or maybe she’d ask him to leave as soon as he left the bed.

He stayed there for another moment, trying to think of the perfect “spend the day with me” line, but he came up blank. He’d just have to wing it.

He opened the door and stepped into the living room. Annabeth was standing in the kitchen over a frying pan, still in her pajamas (now rumpled from a night of sleep), and her blonde hair was up in a high ponytail, the ends tangled together.

She looked up and smiled at him. Percy’s heart raced, fuck, he thought, she’s gorgeous. Before he could say anything to her, though, she told him: “You drool when you sleep.”

Percy flushed, a hand going up to his mouth to wipe away any trace of drool that might still be there. She laughed at him, and he smiled.

She turned back to the frying pan. “I’m making eggs. I hope that’s okay.”

“Eggs are great,” he said. “I thought you didn’t cook.”

She shrugged. “I told you, I’m not completely incompetent. I can scramble an egg reasonably well.” She said, dishing out the servings onto two plates.

Percy took a seat at the table. “Have you been up long?” He asked.

“No, ‘bout half an hour.” She said. “Coffee?” She offered.

He nodded, and she put a mug down in front of him, and then his plate of eggs and avocado toast.

She sat down at the other end of the table.

“Thanks,” Percy said, about to dig in.

He piled some eggs on top of his toast and took a bite. They were good, although he would struggle to find an adult who couldn’t make a decent scrambled egg. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Better,” she said. “A lot better. Thanks for listening to me and for staying the night.”

Percy smiled. “Of course, any time.” He realized what he said and felt his ears get hot. “Anyway …” he tried to think of literally anything else to say, but nothing came to mind. Annabeth saved him, though.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Annabeth asked.

It took a moment for Percy to register what she had said. He was preoccupied by the casual way she sat at the other edge of the table, sunlight bouncing off her curls, as if they sat together like this every day.

Finally, though, he remembered she’d asked him a question. “No, not really.” He told her.

“Do you want to hang out downtown for a little while?” She asked.

Percy smiled. “Sure, that’d be great.”

Percy stood in front of Annabeth bathroom mirror, which had fogged up with steam from his shower. She had showered before him and was getting ready in her bedroom.

He leaned forward and drew a smiley face on her mirror for her to discover the next time she showered.

He dressed quickly, only having the same sweatpants and tee shirt from the night before, but it would have to do.

Annabeth was waiting on her couch for him to get ready. She was dressed in a light pink sweater and light jeans with her hair braided over her shoulder.

“Ready to go?” She asked.

Percy nodded. They grabbed their jackets and headed out the door.

~*~*~

They walked down the avenue to Washington Square Park, stopping on the way to indulge in some hot chocolates. It was just starting to get a little warmer – they daily temperature tended to hang out in the forties during the day, rather than what Percy called ‘face hurting temperatures.’

Still, he wished it was a little warmer so they could sit on a bench or the grass for a while and just relax in the Spring sun. But the cold sun of the end of February would have to do.

It did come with its perks, Percy realized, when a cold wind blew, prompting Annabeth to instinctively move closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest for a moment as the breeze blew by. When it was over, they parted, neither blushing or uncomfortable.

Sure, he was usually physically close to her, but stage intimacy was far less erotic than many people assumed. On stage or during rehearsal, both were sweaty, trying not to breath too hard, and mostly worrying about their own steps and safety and the safety of their partner.

A gentle closeness so far removed from the studio, though, felt deeply intimate. He almost reached down to hold her hand, but she had it in her jacket pocket. He left his hand by his side in case she had the same thought, but she never reached for it.

When they reached the arch, Annabeth paused in front of it. “You know, if I hadn’t joined the company, I would have gone to school for architecture.”

“Really?” Percy asked, looking at her.

She nodded. “I guess I kind of am or was at least.” She said. “I was part time at NYU for a few years, but between being a principal, and planning a wedding, then calling off the wedding, and everything that came after that, I haven’t taken a class in almost …” she paused, “almost two years, I guess.”

“Why architecture?” Percy asked.

She shrugged. “Aesthetics, partly. I really enjoy aesthetic, design, and flow. Obviously, I do, or I wouldn’t be a dancer. But buildings can have all of those things too, just not in the same way.” She sipped her hot chocolate. “It’s also the opposite of dance. Buildings are static, and they’re so permanent.”

Percy nodded. The fleeting nature of ballet loomed over all of them. Most men could go until thirty-five at least, and a lot of women made it to forty, if not longer. But one bad injury could end a career in an instant.

“Do you want to be an architect when you retire?” He asked.

She shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s a hard career to start at forty. Knowing myself I’ll end up teaching or choreographing. I don’t think I could ever really leave it behind, you know?”

“You could design theaters.” He suggested.

She smiled at him like she had had the thought before. “Yeah, I could.” Her hand dropped out of her pocket and rested near his, but he didn’t feel courageous enough to take it. “What about you?” She asked.

“Oh, I have no idea.” Percy said. “I barely graduate high school.” He admitted. “College is not my speed, so I’ll probably linger in the ballet world as long as they’ll have me.”

She bumped him with her shoulder. “Come on, you have no ideas?” He shook his head. “Wildest dream? If a genie showed up right now and told you he’d give you your dream career, what would it be?”

“Well,” Percy said, “if I’m wishing for stuff, I’d just wish to be able to dance forever.”

“Alright that’s on me,” Annabeth said, laughing, “I set the bar too low.” She took his hand, and his breath caught. “Seriously, I won’t judge you.”

It was a hard question to answer. Percy had spent a lot of time in his training thinking about what he’d do if he didn’t get a company contract when his training ended. Teaching was one option, but he didn’t know if he’d like doing that if his own dreams had fallen through. With his poor grades, he always figured he’d just get a retail or restaurant job and try and work his way through management and dance on the weekends.

But if today were the day that he had to stop dancing …

“I guess I’d teach,” he admitted, “but I don’t know if I’d want to teach at the academy.”

“Why not?” She asked. They started walking out of the park and towards the street, wandering aimlessly through the West Village.

He had never really wanted to teach at the academy, he realized. Sure, the prospect of training a new group of kids who would go on to join City Ballet, Miami, Royal Ballet, Ballet West, and all the other big companies was exciting, but he was lucky to have had that education at all. So many things had to go right in his life to even make it into their ranks – a good ballet teacher off the bat, scholarship money, his mom marrying a man who had a savings account and cared about her son. Without any of those things, Percy wouldn’t have a career.

“I was on my own at the academy,” he said, “one of the only kids who started late and didn’t have great training before that. Most other kids were,” like you, he though, but he didn’t say it, “born lucky. They had exposure to ballet young, good training, and they never had to worry about how they were going to pay for things. I had to worry about that all the time. And I was still luckier than most.” He said. “Just think about how many talented kids there are just on my block alone that will never get my chance.” He looked ahead towards the street. The West Village had once a bohemian shithole, but (thanks in no small part to NYU), it had been gentrified into one of the most expensive areas in the city. “I guess if I could do anything I’d just try and help those kids. Don’t know how I’d do it, but that’s what I’d really like to do.” He told her. “I know it’s crazy.”

She stopped walking and pulled him to the side of the path, getting out of every one’s way.

“It’s not crazy.” She said.

For a moment on the edge of the sidewalk, hugging the wall of some coffee shop, neither of them moved. She looked at him, tilting her head up just slightly to look him in the eye. When she licked her lips slightly, Percy’s heart almost exploded, sure that she was going to lean in. But instead she broke the tension, turning back to the middle of the sidewalk to keep forward, dropping his hand.

“At least,” she said, not looking at him, “not as crazy as wanting to pivot to architecture.”

He jogged to catch up with her. “That’s not crazy either. Besides, if I know you at all, I know nothing will stop you from getting what you want.”

She smiled, looking down at the sidewalk as she walked forward. “Nothing stops you either as far as I can tell.”

“I am notoriously scrappy.” He said, pulling a laugh out her, which dissolved any remain uncomfortable tension while taking away any remaining hope of a kiss.

~*~*~

When they finally got too cold to stand walking around any longer, they ducked into a dimly lit pub.

“Do you ever just wish you had a job where you didn’t have to worry so much about what you ate and drank?” Annabeth asked him. They did eat a lot, of course. They both probably ate more than the average person, they just also had to eat way healthier than the average person.

“Pretty much every day.” Percy said. “Every time a season ends, I just crush a cheeseburger, first thing.”

Annabeth had been to the pub before, and guided Percy through some good options on the menu.

Their conversation stayed light – childhood stories, embarrassing moments, favorite TV shows. When Annabeth started to ramble about architecture being a universal language for people, and how The Hunchback of Notre Dame is actually all about the building, and how the novel saved the church, Percy couldn’t stop smiling. Her gaze was distant, but her eyes were bright. Percy was delighted to see her so happy.

When the check came, Annabeth grabbed it off the table before Percy could even reach for it.

“Absolutely not,” Annabeth said when Percy reached across the table. “You’ve done so much for me the last few days, buying you lunch is the least I can do.”

Percy didn’t protest anymore, instead just choosing to thank her for the meal. He hoped it wasn’t the last one they got to share together.

~*~*~

As the afternoon went on and the sun started to set, Percy realized he needed to go home. He didn’t want to leave Annabeth, but he also didn’t want to be wearing the same clothes for twenty-four hours.

“I can come back if you need anything, or if Luke comes around,” he said as they headed towards the subway.

Annabeth shook her head. “I should be fine. I think I’m going to call Piper or Silena and talk some things out with them.” You can talk to me, Percy wanted to insist. But he knew she was closer with them than with him, no matter what he wanted to be true.

“Call me if you need anything,” he told her. She nodded and promised she would.

They stood at the top of the subway stairs, doing their best to stay out of everyone else’s way, but that was almost impossible to do when you were standing still on New York City sidewalk.

“Percy,” she said looking up at him, “thank you. Seriously, thank you for everything.” She pulled him into a tight hug, burying her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to hold her even closer. Her hair smelled like lemons.

“Anytime,” he told her. He pressed a gentle kiss into the top of her head; if she noticed or minded, she didn’t show any sign of it.

Annabeth pulled away after a little too long (not that Percy minded) and smiled at him. “Get home safe,” she said, before turning to head towards her apartment.

~*~*~

Percy rested his head back against the subway window, grateful for a seat on his way back up town, trying to remember the way Annabeth’s hair smelled, and the ways her eyes lit up when she was excited.

He hoped that they stayed close when they weren’t dancing together anymore. The have to, he figured. They were friends now, not just coworkers or dance partners.

He knew from experience that performances come and go too quickly – a month of rehearsal just for four shows? It was almost unfair. Lee’s husband, a Broadway actor, had once complained about his eight shows a week schedule at a company party. Eight Sleeping Beauty’s a week was probably physically impossible, but Percy did sometimes miss doing six or eight ballets a week as an apprentice or corps member. He certainly wouldn’t pass up one or two extra performances of Sleeping Beauty if he had the chance. He wanted to hold onto it for just a little bit longer.  

~*~*~

The next morning, Percy woke up feeling like he was an astronaut on the moon, hearing the air leave his spacesuit, but he could not find the leak. He didn’t remember his dream, but his heart was beating hard and fast. He performed tomorrow, he remembered. He took a deep breath, but it didn’t do anything to calm his anxiety. Throughout his morning routine, of breakfast, palates, and stretching, he felt like he was the vice president of anxiety, and the president was nowhere to be found.

He had fleeting moments of confidence as a dancer – moments where he was sure he was good, that he was going to succeed, moments where, if he closed his eyes, he could swear that he was flying not just jumping. But mostly he would bag on himself for things he couldn’t do or didn’t do well. Those fleeing moments of confidence could be diminished by any small error.

He had to succeed. Part of it was vindictive – people had always underestimated him. But most of it felt like debt. His mother had sacrificed so much just to get him to dance practice and to keep him enrolled at the school. If he never made principal …

When he was eleven and his YMCA teacher told Sally that he should be in more advanced classes, Sally asked him if he wanted to continue ballet. Just say no, he had told himself, knowing that there was no way his mom could pay for all the lessons he’d need. It would hurt less to stop dancing at eleven than to make it all the way to fourteen or fifteen only to give it up then.

He had spent as much time in dance classes dancing as he spent worrying that at some point the rug would be pulled out from under him, and he’d lose it all. That there would be a point where he just couldn’t continue. He already spent most of his training playing catch-up with people who had been dancing since they could stand, and he always feared his career being stunted on the other side.

But when he was eleven, and he told his mom he wanted to stop dancing, he had called him on his lie. “If you want to do it, we will do what we have to do,” she told him. That meant he had to switch to public school and work jobs to pay for summer intensives and after-school classes. Even with all that, and his scholarships, it was Paul that made any of it possible. He’d gotten lucky; finally, some of that luck that seemed to grace some of the worst people finally trickled down to him and his mom. She had married a man with a savings account and love of the arts. He had no problem helping them pay for his summer intensives or his academy tuition.

He thought his meeting with Chiron at the end of his last year in the school. The year before, he had been encouraged to try out for other companies but told that an apprenticeship wasn’t out of the picture. When he got back to his apartment, he tried not to tell his mom, to keep it a secret and to work as hard as he could the next year to earn his spot.

He’d cried as soon as he saw her though; guilt and disappointment cut through his stomach and chest like a knife. Sally had tried to assure him that he wasn’t a failure, but that didn’t change any of his thinking on the issue.

When Nutcracker season came, and Percy wasn’t offered an apprenticeship, he figured that it truly was over. He had almost gotten to a point where he thought his entire dance career was over, until Lupa Lopez had called him back about his audition, and offered him a spot at Miami. His mom had let him have a glass of Champaign to celebrate.  

Chiron was less enthusiastic than his mother had been. When Percy told him the good news, he kept a straight face and asked, “Have you signed anything yet?”

“No.”

“Good, don’t.”

He was called into the office two days later. “Lupa and I have the same eye for dancers,” he said. “She’s taken some of my best away from me. So, it wasn’t surprising to hear that she was interested in you joining her company. She must see the same things in you that I see.”

Percy’s eyes went wide.

“You’re talented, Percy,” Chiron continued, “and disciplined,” that was the first time a teacher had said that about him, he realized. Chiron handed Percy a stack of a few papers. “And you should stay with City Ballet.”

It took Percy a moment to realize what he was looking at. His dyslexia only acted up when he got stressed. Finally, he deciphered it. “Wait … is this for real?” He was holding an apprentice contract with his name on it.

“Sorry for making you go on all of those auditions,” Chiron said.

Percy hadn’t even waited to get home to tell his mom. Instead, he found a quiet stairwell where he could tell her and cry with her. He thought she was going to break his ribs with how tightly she hugged him when he got home. “I’m just so happy,” she said, “that you don’t have to move to Miami.”

He was tired of barely succeeding – barely making it into the academy, barely getting an apprenticeship, barely getting leading roles. He wondered for a moment if she had these fleeing moments of confidence met quickly by self-doubt, before he remembered their last Diamonds rehearsal. Percy was terrified when she had stopped dancing, and he became more worried when he saw the frantic look in her eyes. She had broken, he realized; she had hit a level of doubt and pain that you can’t easily pull yourself out of.

He didn’t, Percy realized, have the luxury of breaking, though. If he left, there was no guarantee that his spot would be there when he came back. He could only bend.

Annabeth couldn’t break either. Percy could end up stagnant if the shows didn’t go well. If Annabeth broke again, though, her career could be over.

They both had to bend and bend far. Four shows, Percy realized, four shows to get it right. Just don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her. He told himself. And if you forget the choreography, just make it up.    

Luke had left a principal male spot open that Chiron still hadn’t filled. In a fleeting moment of confidence, Percy told himself You’re the perfect fit.

He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, but he couldn’t see what was at the bottom. He was safe as long as he stayed on land. If he jumped, he could die, or he could land safely in the water. There wasn’t another way forward.

[notalwaysthevillian]

Parent Trapped

Warnings: Anxiety before a show, crying, feeling like you’re not good enough, food mention

Pairings: Eventual Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~2.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Chapter 6: The Play

“Virgil! Patton!”

The twins looked up from their lunches, seeing Roman heading toward them at full speed. Logan had opted to walk instead, lingering behind his brother.

“What’s up?” They asked in unison.

“I hate that you guys can do that.” Roman said, before waving around a packet of paper. “Remember that play I was talking about a few weeks ago? I tried out and got the lead!!”

“That’s amazing!” Patton threw himself into Roman’s arms, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Virgil gave him a fist bump. “Good job, man. You’ve been working really hard on that monologue they gave you.”

Logan gave them an exhausted look. “At least now that he’s in the play, he’ll have someone other than me to practice with.”

“Aw, c’mon Lo. You were a good partner.”

“Just because I remembered the lines doesn’t mean I performed them well.” Logan took his seat at their lunch table, the others following suit. “I’d appreciate if you used someone else in the future.”

Patton glanced up from peeling his orange. “I’d be happy to help!”

“I can’t wait for you guys to see it!” Roman handed out his Gushers, trading them for Virgil’s Nutty Bar. “And hopefully in the spring I get a part in the musical and you guys can come see that too!”

“We’d be happy to!”

Over the next few months, Roman spent most of his time after school at play practice. Logan saw him every night when he got home, but the twins only saw him if they were at the Sanders’s for dinner. Which was more often than not, but they still missed their friend.

It only got worse during tech week. Roman was at rehearsal past dinnertime, often dragging himself through the door around eight. He’d quickly do whatever homework he had before going to bed, completely exhausted.

When the big day finally came, Roman was finally able to come home right after school.

“What is this stranger doing in my house?” Remy asked as Roman and Logan walked in the door. “I haven’t seen this boy in weeks.”

“Oh, shut up.” Roman slid his backpack off. He twisted, cracking his spine. “I have to be back by five but I figured I’d actually eat something here before I head out. Gas station food is good on occasion, but not every single day for two months.”

“You picked Leftover Night to eat at home?” Logan let out a laugh. “I think we have some bacon in the fridge, lasagna, and some pizza rolls.”

“Honestly, anything is better than eating a burger or a wrapped sandwich at this point.”

Despite it being so early, Remy pulled out the leftovers from the fridge. “So, Roman, are you excited? Nervous?”

“A bit of both.” Looking over his choices, Roman grabbed the pizza rolls and dumped them onto a plate. “We’ve been working really hard and I’m excited for everyone to see it. But I’m worried that I’m going to forget my lines or a cue or something.”

“I’ve known you most of my life and I highly doubt that you’re going to make a mistake.” Logan said. “If anything, one of your fellow actors will be the one to mess up.”

“...and now I’m worried about that.”

Remy threw an arm around his son’s shoulders. “The only thing you can do is your best.”

The microwave beeped and Roman pulled his food out. Logan steered the conversation away from the play, hoping to distract Roman from his worries. It seemed to work, as Roman went on a rant about how Mr. Lockwood claimed he was doing his math wrong.

Soon enough it was 4:30. A horn honked outside and Roman darted to his feet, grabbing everything he needed.

“I’ll see you guys there!” He called out as he left the house, the door slamming shut behind him.

Logan headed up to his room to work on some homework until it was time to go. He’d set about 10 alarms on his dad’s phone to make sure that he wouldn’t fall asleep or forget.

Despite the alarms, he came downstairs to find his dad asleep on the couch.

With a sigh, he headed over and shook Remy’s arm. “Dad.”

“Mmm.”

“Dad, come on, get up.”

Remy rolled over into the couch, pressing his face against the cushions. “Mmm.”

“We’re going to miss Roman’s play if you don’t get up.”

Shooting up, Remy grabbed his sunglasses before they could get launched off his face. “SHIT!”

A horn honked outside. Logan headed to the window, moving the curtain to find the Picanis parked in the driveway. Patton had leaned over the center console to wave through the windshield.

Logan held up one finger before dropping the curtain. “That’s our ride.”

“What do you -”

“I asked Patton if his dad could drive us because I knew you’d forget.” Logan opened the closet, grabbing his shoes. “Now hurry up or we won’t get decent seats.”

“Called out by my own kid, I can’t believe it.” Remy grumbled as he quickly threw his shoes on, grabbing his wallet and keys on the way.

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face. “I’ll be in the car.”

“I’m not that slow.” Remy caught the door before it could close, following his son outside.

Patton slid into the middle of the backseat, allowing Logan to climb in and get buckled up. Remy jumped in the passenger seat.

“Let’s ride.”

Emile raised an eyebrow. “Seatbelt.”

“Oh, right.”

Once everyone was buckled in, Emile pulled out of their driveway and headed to the school.

The parking lot was only about a quarter of the way full when they pulled in. The boys jumped out of the backseat to get in line and get tickets while Emile parked.

“You could’ve gone with them.” Emile told Remy as he found a decent spot.

Remy waved a hand. “They don’t want to be babysat by an adult. Besides, it’s not like they’re going to get kidnapped at a high school play.”

“Wouldn’t this be an ample opportunity to kidnap a child? There’s plenty here.” Emile pulled his keys out of the ignition and slid out of the car. He reached into the backseat, pulling out two bouquets of flowers.

Remy walked around behind, nearly being hit by a car looking for a spot. He held up a choice finger. “Asshole!”

“Maybe you should get out of the road?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Remy moved to the sidewalk, spotting the flowers in Emile’s hands. “F-fudge! I forgot to -”

Emile handed over one of the bouquets. “I thought you might forget.”

“Em, you are a lifesaver.”

The two of them headed inside, spotting their kids toward the front of the line. Virgil pulled out his phone. A moment later Emile’s phone buzzed.

Virgil: We’ll grab seats.

Emile: Thank yo!

Emile: *you

Virgil gave him a thumbs up before the boys headed into the theater.

“How do you think Roman’s feeling?” Emile asked as they slowly moved through the line.

Remy shrugged. “He said he’s both excited and nervous. It’s probably just pre-show jitters. The kid has some raw talent for acting.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Don’t go all therapist on me now.” The teasing tone was clear in Remy’s voice. “But yeah, I’ve let him know. That’s the one thing I’m pretty consistent at. I didn’t get much praise growing up, so I figured that they deserved to hear it.”

Trying to hide his smile, Emile said, “Sounds like you’re opening up to a therapist.”

Before Remy could respond, they were at the front of the line. A person wearing an orange beanie looked up at them. “How many tickets?”

“Two please.”

Emile reached for his wallet, but Remy was already handing over a few bills. “Keep the rest. Consider it a donation.”

“Thanks, dude.” They took the money, handing over two tickets. “You can sit anywhere in the auditorium as long as there isn’t someone else in that seat.”

“You didn’t have to pay.” Emile said as they walked in.

Remy gave him a look. “You got an extra bouquet. It’s the least I could do.”

Glancing around, they spotted Patton waving and headed over to their kids.

“If you don’t want to sit with your parents -”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Patton cut Remy off, before flushing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Remy shook his head. “All good.”

“I guess that makes us the cool dads.” Emile said as they sat down.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t push it.”

The five of them chatted idly until the lights overhead were dimmed and brightened again. People that were still standing quickly moved to their seats. A few minutes passed before the person in the orange beanie headed up onstage with a microphone.

“I’m pleased to announce that we are sold out tonight!” They said. The audience let out a loud cheer. “I’d like to thank you all. With the money we raise, we’re able to put on our spectacular productions, as well as take our students on some field trips. With the extra that we received from selling out, we’ll be able to get a new stage for next year.”

The audience began to applaud. After a moment, the person held up their hand and everyone quieted down. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Joan Stokes. I teach English here as well as run the drama department with our principal, Thomas Sanders. He’s somewhere backstage making sure no one is dying.”

A ripple of laughter made its way through the audience.

“Which means it’s my pleasure to introduce our play! Thank for your coming and we hope you enjoy Clue.”

As soon as they were off the stage, the curtain opened.

The five of them were silent as the show went on, watching as Roman nailed his lines. There was a brief issue with one of the backdrops, but the show continued without a hitch.

When it ended, the entire audience leapt to their feet, clapping and whistling. The applause only increased when Roman and the leading lady came out for their bows.

Once the curtain closed, everyone started making their way back to the front lobby. By the time the Picanis and Sanders managed to get out, the lobby was full of people, making it hard to find Roman in the crowd.

Instead, he found them.

“What did you think?” He asked as he darted through people effortlessly. His eyes lit up as they landed on the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Yes!” Remy and Emile handed the flowers over. Remy shot Emile a grateful look over the kid’s heads.

“You did fantastic!” Patton started gushing over Roman’s performance, Virgil adding in a comment here and there.

Logan gave his brother a smile when they were finished. “You did great.”

“Thanks, nerd.” Roman teased, throwing an arm over Logan’s shoulders.

Remy huddled the group together, keeping his voice down. “Now, I think we should get out of here so we can grab some ice cream before the crowd.”

Roman nodded, bouncing on his toes. “I just have to put my costume back in the dressing room and then we can go.”

“What about the makeup?”

“I can take it off in the car!” Roman shouted as he sprinted back down the hall.

Twenty minutes later, all of them were sitting in a booth at Leon’s Parlor. They’d managed to beat the crowd and had grabbed the best spot to sit. As they talked, the parlor began to fill up.

After a while, Virgil asked, “What made you want to do the play anyway?”

Roman shrugged. “I thought it would be fun. And I wanted to get involved with an extracurricular. Logan says that they look good on college applications.”

Logan nodded.

“And I wanted to do something that I liked, you know? I did an acting class for summer school and I thought it was super fun, so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

Virgil stared at him. “How can you just...do things?”

“It helps that I don’t have anxiety.” Roman pointed out, digging his spoon into the last of his ice cream. “Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith.”

“I can’t do that though.”

Roman nodded, looking sorry for Virgil. “Sometimes it helps to have a friend. Are there any clubs you wanted to join? One of us could go to the first meeting with you.”

“Not at the moment, but I’ll let you guys know?”

“Of course!”

As everyone finished up their ice cream, they left a tip on the table and headed out. As soon as they stepped foot on the asphalt, Patton heard a sniffle.

He turned just in time to see Logan break down, sobbing. Darting over, he held open his arms. Logan dove into them, burying his face into Patton’s cardigan.

Roman started to head over, but Virgil grabbed his arm and shook his head. “We shouldn’t crowd him.”

The two of them stood nearby, listening. If anyone tried to see what was going on, their glares sent them on their way.

“Logan, what’s wrong?” Remy asked as he came over, kneeling next to Patton. Emile knelt on Patton’s other side, eyes wide with concern.

Letting go of Patton, Logan moved to his dad’s lap. “I just...Roman did so good in the play and he’s so talented. I - I’m not good at anything except for school. That’s not - I’m not going to be able to get a job because of that! I need to be good at something else...anything else…”

Remy wrapped his arms around Logan, glancing at Emile over his head. He had no clue what to say, and he really didn’t want to make the situation worse.

Patton caught their look, getting up to go stand with Virgil instead.

Emile slid over, reaching out and rubbing circles onto Logan’s back. “Logan, how much time do you spend on homework?”

“Approximately half an hour per class that assigns homework.”

“So when you have homework in all of your classes, that’s about two and a half hours?”

Logan nodded, the tears finally slowing enough that he pulled his face from Remy’s shirt. “Mhmm.”

“How much time do you spend doing something you like to do?”

There was a moment of hesitation. “I - I’m unsure.”

“It’s not good to overwork yourself.” Emile said, continuing to rub Logan’s back. “You have to make time to do things that you enjoy.”

“I don’t know what I like.” Logan admitted. His face, which was already red from crying, grew even redder.

Emile and Remy exchanged another look. “I could help you figure it out.���

“You can?”

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow? We can look at a list of clubs the school offers and figure out if any of them speak to you.”

Scrubbing his face with his sweater sleeve, Logan nodded. “Okay.”

“Ro, can you start the car?” Remy asked, tossing his keys.

Roman caught them, gathering up his brother and heading toward the car. Virgil and Patton hesitated until Emile nodded.

Once the kids were gone, Remy got to his feet, pulling Emile up as well. “Thank you. I have a feeling I would’ve made it worse.”

“We need to learn from each other, remember?” Emile teased, flashing him a smile. “Now let’s get out of here before you get run over for real.”

[motleycrueroadie]

Along for the Ride (pt. 6)

Author’s Note: It has been a while, so thank you to anyone who is returning to this story! I will apologize for the delay, going back to work has been hectic. With everything going on right now, if reading this and consuming this kind of content helps you to take a break then I’m very glad to provide that. Enjoy xoxo. 

Previous Chapters: One I Two I Three I Four I Five I

A lot of time has passed since I’ve been to a party, let alone a party with a horde of strangers. The last time that I was ,what might be defined as, “partying” was during high school. Even though varsity sports were a large commitment, there were always athletes who made it part of their weekly routine to get as hammered as they possibly could on Friday and Saturday night. The football players were the main ones to spend copious hours belligerent, and they turned to the other fall athletic teams to join them. A lot of my teammates were skinny little things who were borderline obliterated within two cups of foamy, cheap keg beer but no other sport could beat them and myself at the beer mile. The athletes were pretty much the only people I partied with because they were the only people I was seeing throughout the year. Yet here I am four years later, having not attended a party since graduation and I was set to attend some random stranger’s party to scope out Tommy’s suggested lead singer. 

When Tommy had suggested Vince at dinner last week he went on to explain that he knew him from high school and not from Suite 19 or any other band he played for - which to me was a good starting sign considering that Greg hadn’t worked out. I had not realised I was Tommy’s senior by four years up until he was talking about him and Vince’s high school days.  Tommy admitting his age to me really had put things into perspective for myself.

 Four years have passed since I graduated and I still had yet to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Upon finishing high school, all I knew with regards to my future was that I needed to be on my own and find myself. To begin, finding out who I was meant that I needed to start from my roots and make my way up. Despite not being completely fit parents,  my mother and father were incredibly passionate people. Before the haze of drugs and partying had blinded them, my parents were both madly in love with one another and with music. None of their life was mapped out and planned tediously, otherwise I wouldn’t have been in the picture. When they were seventeen and seniors in high school, my mom found out she was pregnant with me. Even though this put a delay in their goal to travel with the music, it never stopped them. We lived in a 1959 Volkswagen Van and put thousands of miles on it as we traveled from venue to venue following the voices of the 60′s. Of course, we settled down come the fall when the summer tours and festivals died down and I needed to go to school. We would live right here on the Sunset Strip in a shitty little one bedroom apartment. I slept with my parents on a mattress on the floor. During the week I would attend school and they would work at whatever odd job they had found, then come the weekend they would put me to bed and head out for the shows. After their death, I moved in with my grandparents a few hours north of Los Angeles for 7 years until I turned 18. That’s when I set out to find myself. Funny thing is, it’s almost been four years out here and I’m no closer to finding out who I am than the day I left home. 

“You’re not that much older than me Janis,” Tommy had said while we were talking about my age, “Mick, when did you graduate high school?” This was another of his attempts to figure out Mick’s age. 

“Before your balls even dropped.” Mick was quick to shut Tommy down every time. I smiled at Mick and held out my hand for a fist bump, which to my surprise Mick had returned. Mick was older than the rest of us, but none of us were sure by how much. Even though Mick fronted a bit of a tough exterior, he liked to joke around and have fun like us - He just wasn’t as young as us anymore, it was a different kind of fun. 

That night, after the guys had gone back to practicing, I went back to my usual nightly routine. Being that it was Sunday, I didn’t have to go in for work but it also meant that I had to keep my regular sleep schedule since I was due for another 11-7 shift the next day. That left me from the time I woke up at 3:30 pm until 7:00 am to pass the time. This meant that I would have a smoothie and go for a run, come back for a shower and more food and the rest of the time I spent cleaning every nook and cranny in the apartment and reading. Days off though, was time for grocery shopping. There was only one supermarket in the nearby area that was open 24 hours and I was one of the only people who tended to do their shopping at midnight. However, on this night I had company. Nikki came along with me despite the fact that he had work in the morning. It wasn’t until the walk home that I learned the true motive behind the company on the trip. He wanted me to come with them to this party to scout out Vince. At first I was confused. 

“Why do you want me to come? It’s your band.” He nodded in agreement, acknowledging that it seemed like an odd request. 

“You’ve kind of been along for most of this, so even though it’s not your band I feel it’s only right you come along for the ride.” My continued confusion must have read on my face because he spoke again, “I met Tommy at your diner and you called Mick when I wouldn’t.” 

“You would’ve eventually called him yourself, and I’m sure you would’ve met Tommy after your show anyways.” He shook his head at me while we continued walking. 

“Janis, I was only in that diner because I was there to see you. Tommy was there by coincidence. I wouldn’t have called Mick either. I would have just let myself be happy I had Greg and went along with it until we became another Suite 19 or London.” I had opened my mouth to reply to him and he cut me off, “I’m trying to say you’ve helped me form this band whether you believe it or not, and I want you there when we’re looking at what could be our lead singer.”

“Then I’ll be there to make sure you get your skinny blonde fucker.” He laughed with me and we continued in comfortable silence back to our apartments. That was almost six days ago, today I stood in the living room of Nikki’s apartment at 4:30 on a Friday waiting for Mick to come so that we could all go to this party. Up until now, I hadn’t really seen Nikki’s apartment, but now that I was in it I realised why. The fact that there were roaches infesting this building was not beyond my knowledge, however I managed to keep them at bay by keeping my apartment clean and the food sealed. The garbage left out by Nikki and the mess all over the place was a haven for all sorts of bugs, evident by the ants and roaches freely roaming the brown carpet (which is supposed to be white). Despite this, I wasn’t assuming that Nikki was 100% a slob - more or less 50% a slob, and the rest I can chalk up to him not knowing any better. I know Nikki hasn’t always had or accepted the type of discipline and skill that a parental figure would instill to keep a tidy home. However, even though I was understanding, it didn't mean that I could bear the smell any longer. Moving out of the apartment, I joined Tommy out on the balcony where he was having a cigarette while Nikki was still getting ready.

“Tell me more about Vince.” I spoke, Tommy turned his head from the view of the Strip to acknowledge my presence. Leaning against the railing next to him, Tommy put his arm around my shoulder. Since our initial encounter at the diner, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know Tommy a little bit better when hosting dinners and talking to him. He reminded me of the little brother I never got to have, full of energy and youth. We balanced each other out well in conversations, he was able to get me excited and rambling while I reigned him in but listened intently to everything he had to say. 

“Why? Trying to see if he’s worth getting into bed with?” Tommy winked at me, I knew he was trying to frazzle me. “Jeez JJ, you haven’t even seen him yet.”

“Looks are just a small slice of the pie, I need to know if he’s got brains or not” I replied. 

“Vince’s brains are in his pants. The thing about Vince is that he’s a great guy to be around if you’re a guy.” He took a drag from the cigarette before continuing, “So just make sure he knows you’re one of the guys.” The red car I knew to be  Mick pulled up in front of the complex, so I turned back to the apartment where I had left the door ajar and yelled for Nikki.

“Sixx! Mick is here!” I heard something hit the floor behind him as Nikki emerged from the apartment and closed the door behind him. “You don’t lock your door?” I asked him, genuinely confused considering the equipment they kept there for rehearsing. 

“Why would anyone want to steal from me?” He answered my question with another question, which was something I was notorious for doing and he knew it. 

“Your equipment is in there though.” 

“And? Are the people who won’t even talk to me, who live here, going to steal it?” Being that he was a little snarky today, I figured he needed a reminder of who he was talking to. 

“Well I guess whoever wants to take your shit needs to get past all the garbage and the smell first.” I replied, walking down the stairs with Tommy towards Mick’s car. His silence was quite audible and I knew I had struck the right chord. 

“It’s not that bad in there!” Tommy was quick to come to his defence, especially considering he would be moving in with Nikki at some point. The two of them had discussed this over dinner not long ago.

“You boys have just been spending enough time in it that you’ve become used to it.” I said. In that moment I realised how badly these two boys needed a voice of reason and guidance around. They thought that it was quite acceptable to live like that. “You’re lucky I’m around, I’ll be the one to stop you from being evicted by the L.A Health Department.” 

“Get off your fucking high horse.” Nikki scoffed as we grew closer to Mick’s car. I lifted my foot and pressed it into the crook of Tommy’s knee while pushing my hand into Nikki’s chest to throw them both off balance. They both stumbled slightly as I took off into a run, swinging open Mick’s car door I slid into the passenger seat.

“Let’s go!” I yelled, leaning out the window and laughing as Tommy and Nikki fumbled into the backseat. Despite the fact that Nikki had seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed, today he had a smirk on his face as he and Tommy squished their body’s into the backseat of the Mazda. Knowing Nikki, only a little bit, I could maybe conclude he was nervous about whether Vince would work out of not. They sounded good without a lead singer, and I know he wants someone to match the rest of their talent.

“Mick Mars, you ready to go get a blonde fucker?” I asked him, sticking out my hand for a fist bump. He returned the gesture before shifting the car into drive. 

“This kid better be good, drummer.” Was the reply that Mick offered as we took off towards the house party. Arriving on the street, the first thing we noticed were the dozens of cars lined up and the second was the noise from down the block. As we got out of the car, Tommy let us know that the noise was Vince. Nikki had commented that he sounded good for now and everyone’s spirits were high. As we entered the backyard, the third thing that we all noticed was how easily these guys stood out in the crowd. The people at this party were very obviously preppy, the colour palette was very warm and looked just like the people I would have hung around with in high school. In fact, if these guys weren’t here then I would blend in quite well. The four of us were stopped in the entrance of the backyard, and I felt a hand on the small of my back as Nikki started making his way into the sea of strangers. 

“I want a shot of Jack already and we’ve been here for two seconds” He whispered in my ear as the four of us made our way to the makeshift bar in the middle of the backyard. As we approached the table, Nikki took a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the hand of someone passing by. They turned in protest but then decided against it once taking in the sight of us. Leaning against the table, I was paying attention to the band on stage. The four guys on the stage were playing a cover of Billy Squier’s My Kind of Lover and though it was nothing special compared to the original, I would say the lead singer was using the song to his advantage. The women were flocking to the front of the stage, infatuated with him. Tapping my foot along to the beat, I felt a hand on the small of my back again as the bottle of Jack appeared in my vision. Shaking my head, I gently pushed the neck back towards Nikki. Even though the offer was denied and he didn’t need my attention anymore, Nikki’s hand remained and I was hyper-aware of the fact. 

“Fucking cover band?” Mick questioned, sounding displeased. 

“Yeah but I’m telling you, I went to high school with this guy.” Tommy continued to vouch for Vince, attempting to convince Mick to see past the exterior. Unlike Mick, I was hearing a voice that could go with the heavy metal these guys have been playing. 

“You’re telling me you haven’t played covers to make a cheap buck Mick?” I questioned, looking back at him as he took the bottle of Jack from Nikki. His scowl softened ever so slightly, which served as the silent reply I needed. Tommy and Nikki stepped forward a little away from the table to talk and I stayed there with Mick.

“I know what you mean though Mick,” He glanced his eyes over at me before returning to watch Vince, taking a sip from the bottle. “You want to know if the guy is serious about the music or in it for something else. I get it” He nodded appreciatively, a man of few words. I couldn’t tell if I was on the right track, but when he stuck his fist out towards me I knew I had been right. Quickly bumping my fist against his, I caught his smile as he took another sip from the bottle. 

“This isn’t our style.” Mick called out to Nikki and Tommy. The two looked back at Mick before Nikki motioned his hand out to the crowd in front of the stage. 

“I don’t care if he can sing or not, look at what he’s doing to those chicks” He replied. Tommy turned his whole body around and came walking towards me with a grin, which I knew was not a good sign.

“Yeah JJ, look at what he’s doing to those chicks. You creaming your jeans yet?” He laughed at how uncomfortable I appeared from his statement. I wasn’t ignorant to the stares from both Mick and Nikki as they awaited my thoughts. 

“Blondes aren’t my type Tommy.” I replied, but it didn’t appear that he was letting up on me. Standing next to me as we listened to the tail end of the song, Tommy looked like he had something else to say. 

“They might not be your type, but blondes are Vince’s type. You’re my bribing factor JJ.” Tommy said, he tried to walk away but I grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket. 

“You are not pimping me!” I whisper shouted at him, he laughed and pulled his jacket out my hand as the song ended. 

“We are Rock Candy!” Vince said into the microphone as he exited the stage. Nikki returned to the table beside Mick and myself, his arm going around my shoulder. 

“Shitty name” mumbled Mick and I nodded in agreement. 

“I heard something about Tommy pimping you out to Vince,” Nikki said low enough that only I was hearing it. Shifting under the weight of his arm I looked up at him. 

“ Not only are blondes not my type, but neither is being pimped out” I replied as we watched Tommy and Vince embrace. “His voice is right for you guys, but you’ll need to help him tweak it. Billy Squier is much different than what you guys are playing.” Nikki nodded in agreement with me. The two of us continued to watch Tommy and Vince talk as Tommy pointed back at the three of us before handing him something. He bounded back to us with the type of energy that I envied. 

“I gave him the tape to listen to, it’s got my number on it so I told him to call!” Tommy sounded excited, so I took it that the exchange between the two of them went well. For the sake of these three guys and all the hard work that I had seen them putting into this band thus far, I was really hoping that this would all work out for them. More so, I was quite excited to leave this party and return home to relax before my shift began and I would be dealing with the Friday night leftovers from the Sunset Strip shows. 

A couple weeks had passed since we had ventured to the pool party to watch Vince, and despite how excited Tommy had seemed, the man with promise had yet to even give them a phone call. With each day that went by, I could tell the guys were becoming discouraged  even though they continued to practice every night like clockwork. I tried to keep things constant for them on my part, and made sure that the door was open to welcome them for dinner every night after practice. 

The more that I was around the guys, the more I got to know them. Tommy had learned to play in the drums from the high school marching band, but was one of the most musically inclined of the bunch. When Nikki had met Tommy in the diner, I hadn’t noticed the drumsticks he had been carrying, but since then I had taken note that he did in fact always have a pair glued to him. He was constantly fidgeting with them to the point where I had threatened to toss them into the trash if he hit me one more time while twirling them. In typical Tommy fashion he had apologized profusely. He also told me he appreciated that I was so upfront with him about the things he did that piss me off - something he said his parents were not the greatest at. Mick on the other hand, was a bit of a harder egg to crack. All I could really tell about him was the fact that something seemed to bother him all the time, he never looked like he could quite get comfortable no matter where we were. Nikki and I remained on the same page. We hadn’t really had the opportunity to hang out, just the two of us since Mick joined the trio and I was okay with it for now. What was becoming of increasing concern to me though was their love of substances. The past couple of weekends, the three of them came to the diner during my shift after having watched someone playing at the Starwood or the Whiskey, being as loud and obnoxious as I had ever seen them. Carlos always made sure to poke his disapproving head over the kitchen window and give me his signature “fix it” stare. I tried to shovel bread and water into their systems to slow them down, and they would soon leave just as quickly as they entered, with shouts of “you have to come out soon JJ!” and “live up to the Janis name!” echoing as they exited back onto the street. I knew drugs and alcohol were part of the music scene, and I  wasn't a stranger to them myself, but I knew when to stop. Since I hadn’t seen them party in person yet, I couldn’t gauge whether or not they knew when to stop, but a gut feeling was telling me that they did not in fact know when to stop. 

Today though, was a Monday which meant a fresh start to the week. Feet to the pavement at 4:30 and I was off. The guys always waited until they heard me going down the stairs before they began playing to make sure that I was awake, it was quite the considerate thing to do. Making my way through the streets of Los Angeles, I noticed that it was absolutely sweltering today and the white shirt that I was wearing would soon become quite see-through. The marquees of the Whiskey and the Starwood adorned names that I don’t recognise but that I’m sure Tommy could ramble on about for hours with the aid of Nikki. Those two could give my parents a run for their money when it came for the love of music. I could turn the radio on or throw in a random cassette and as long as it was rock, those two could name the artist, the song, the album and their thoughts within 30 seconds of the song. I had to admit, it was impressive. Rounding the corner that led back to our street, I was ready for a shower. Glancing down at the white shirt, I noticed that my prediction had reigned true. Crossing at the traffic light, there was a beautiful, red 280Z car parked out front the apartment complex. Knowing the people that lived in the building, there was no one with enough money to own that kind of car. Confused, I headed up the stairs while peeling the shirt off my back and tossing it over my shoulder. There was no music coming from Nikki’s apartment, only lots of voices. Continuing up the stairs, I heard a woman’s voice speak. 

“I’m just trying to make sure these guys are good enough to play with you baby.” Those were some odd words. Walking quietly, I paused at the ajar doorway. Mick could see me through the crack but I motioned for him to stay quiet. He started into a riff, while a voice started singing, which I recognised as Vince. After only playing for no more than 30 seconds, the same voice called out, “This isn’t right!” She wasn’t wrong. They mumbled among themselves about how they could change the song so that it sounded better. Nikki said something about muzzling that I didn’t quite pick up but judging by the outcry of curses from the woman, it had to do with muzzling her. Mick just started back into the song again, at a faster pace to silence her. They sounded a lot better. As they started getting into the song I recognised it to be “Live Wire” whose lyrics Nikki had shown me over dinner a while back. Figuring that they would be distracted while playing, I opened the door further which let in more light and I leaned against the doorway listening to them play. Nikki and Tommy had noticed and smiled at me before Nikki motioned with his head over to Vince who was just coming to the tail end of the song. “Holy shit” breathed the woman on the couch. 

“Holy shit is right, that sounded great!” I exclaimed. Nikki grabbed my hand and shook it enthusiastically while Tommy yelled out in agreement. Mick in his true fashion just smiled and nodded along. Without even looking at him, I knew Vince was staring at me. Sticking out my hand for an introduction I spoke to Vince, “Janis Jade, you must be Vince?” He took the hand and gave it a firm shake, pausing while opening his mouth to speak.

“Tommy said you would be here,” He glanced over his shoulder at Tommy and back at me, giving me a once over. “And I have to say I’m quite glad that you are.” Glaring at Tommy, he feigned innocence and shrugged his shoulders. Damn bastard did try to pimp me out. Dropping Vince’s hand I side stepped him and stuck my hand out for the woman who remained sitting on the couch through all this. 

“Janis Jade, I’m Nikki’s upstairs neighbour.” She looked at my hand but did not return the gesture. 

“Baby, you better not be getting any ideas with her around just because she’s sleeping with Nikki.” Though she was quite ignorant, I kept my cool. I was as covered, if not more, than some of the people he was talking to at the pool party. Glancing over my shoulder at Nikki who was beginning to open his mouth, I stuck my hand up slightly to signal him to stop.  

“My apologies sweetheart, I’m sure my midriff was giving him all sorts of ideas.” Grabbing the white shirt from over my shoulders I pulled it over my head. My sweat had made it so that my cleavage was as bright as day but the rest of my torso was covered. Pulling the shirt taut by the hem so that this was emphasised to her I continued, “There we are.” Letting go of the end of my shirt and turning on my heel, I waved to everyone. “Things are sounding good you guys! I’ll bring down some dinner around 8:30.” The silence in the room was deafening but the thumbs-up of support from Tommy didn’t go unnoticed. Walking out the door, I left the boys to deal with the two blondes. 

“I’ll say what we are all thinking. JJ would win in any wet t-shirt contest.” That was unmistakably Tommy’s voice.

Next Chapter 

[accio-jungkookie]

shine on anyway - spider-man x reader (ch. 1)

shine on anyway - chapter one

A/N: Hey, guys! Welcome to the first chapter of my Spidey fic :D AHHH I can’t believe this lol. I’ve been working over this for a bit, and I can’t believe I’m actually posting it? Idk man, crazy world lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I love feedback so please feel free to like or comment! Thanks! (Also note that this story is focusing on character building and development more so than fan service, so Spidey doesn't show up for a little bit in the story <3 Thanks for understanding).

Summary: A kid from Milwaukee has to grow up far more quickly than she should while facing threats that men half her age would never dare go near. So, when she has to uproot after losing everything, does she lose herself too? 

Word count: 1.4k (I promise the chapters get longer)

Warnings: Discussion of depression and anxiety, minor character death, swearing, fight scenes/injury, loss, I’ll add any more if I happen to have forgotten.

teaser - one - next

“Y/N!” You heard your friend, Kyomi, yell from down the hall. You looked up, slightly startled about your name being shouted, before spotting your beautiful best friend. You smiled in her direction before shoving your jacket and books for your afternoon classes into your locker and shutting it. By the time you turned to face her, Kyomi was already almost by your side.

“Hi, Ky. How’s your morning?” You asked with a yawn, glancing on your phone screen to see the time. Not even 7:45 yet, and you already wanted to go home.

“Oh, you know, a Monday morning. And how about you, grumpy gills?” Ky asked with a grin as you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not even 8 a.m. and yet I’m awake. So, as good as I can be.” You mumbled with a small grin, grabbing her sleeve to tug her to the second floor of the school, aiming for a cup of coffee from the school’s student-run café. You didn’t mind the taste of dirt, or the slight anxiety boost, as long as you could stay awake during your first two classes of the day.

You jumped slightly as someone slammed their locker, the noise hurting your ears as you wince. Ky frowns and holds your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Anxiety not doing well today?” She asked quietly, and you nodded as you opened your eyes and blinked a few times. You took a deep breath, trying not to focus on the sensory input that’s nearly ruining your ears. It’s nothing serious, or something you have diagnosed since the idea of it scares you, but it’s enough to freak you out a bit. Sensory overload is something you deal with a lot, and your massive amounts of anxiety never really help at all.

“Is coffee really a good idea, then? I know it makes your anxiety jump a lot, and I don’t want you to be on edge all day.” Kyomi said with a gentle smile. She was always the caring friend, the one with answers who always knew what to say. You were caring too, of course, but it was harder for you to express your emotions than it was for Ky. Not a bad thing, but a thing indeed.

“I’m ok, Ky. I’ve gotta make it through this AP physics exam in first period, so a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.” You said with a small grin, walking into the small room. Ky eventually convinced you to go with tea instead, since it still has caffeine but much less so compared to coffee. Then, it was time for class.

The time passes slow, your brain being crammed full of new ideas and theories and such that you would have to re-teach yourself later, since the lessons were built for straight memorization, not memory retention or application. The American school system was a pain in the ass, and your high school was a prime example of that.

However, your three exams went well, if not mentally draining. Having multiple AP classes is an honest to god feat of nature, but you managed to do it with all A’s and B’s. You spent lunch in a hallway somewhere with Ky, and the end of your day sped by with minor hiccups in regard to your anxiety. But, overall, an averagely boring day. You went to the library after saying goodbye to Ky, since she wasn’t part of the school musical, and then set to work on your homework. The good thing about having three exams today meant you had minimal homework, only in three classes (Spanish, German, and AP English Language/Composition). Easy enough to work through translations and building sentences, but the English work was annoying. A research paper on any topic of your choosing, written in APA style. APA style was disgusting.

It was nearing almost 5 in the afternoon when the library was starting to close, so you packed up your things and went to the auditorium, sitting in a random chair in the back and pulling out your laptop. Not the best, not the worst, but it did what it needed to.

You shifted with a shiver, hating how cold the auditorium always is, before your felt a sharp pain on your ankle. You freaked out a bit, immediately slapping at your ankle in hopes of scaring off, or killing, whatever the hell had just bit you. You looked down at the floor once you had calmed down, and nearly gagged at the size of the spider on the floor. It was massive and disgusting with weird coloring.

“Fucking public school. I hate Milwaukee, swear to god.” You mumbled, snapping a quick picture of it so you could identify it later, before you got up and moved to a different section of the auditorium entirely. Rehearsals started in less than 15 minutes anyway, so there was no need to keep working. Instead, you changed your shoes and got on stage to stretch and warm up slightly. There was a slightly weird feeling in your stomach, and you kept looking down at your ankle every now and again to keep an eye on the bite, which seemed a little annoyed, if nothing else.

Soon enough, rehearsal ended, and it was time to walk home. You pulled out your pepper spray that you kept hidden in your bag and began walking. It was only a 20-minute walk, but 20 minutes walking in a big city, alone, and at night was freaky. Plus, you’re a smaller, high school aged girl. You were more prone to being abducted and sold into the sex trade simply because you were a girl. Disgusting, yes, but a sad reality. You continued walking, all of your senses on high alert as you kept glancing around. You got home right on time, locking the doors before setting everything down in the kitchen. You smiled as you heard the clicking of your dogs’ nails on the floor coming towards you. You smiled and sat on the floor, pulling the two dogs into your lap, cuddling them and giving them love before you had to stand up again.

You went upstairs to your grandparent’s room, lightly knocking on the door to let them know you were coming in, if they were even awake. You walked in, seeing them both asleep, and walked back out again. No need to wake them up if there wasn’t an issue. So, you went back to the kitchen on the main floor, writing on the whiteboard on the wall that you got home safe, and that you didn’t want to wake them. You grabbed your things, leaning down to give the two dogs another pat before leading them to their beds, telling them to sleep before you walked downstairs to the basement where your room was located. You walked through the curtain that served as your door and walked to the far end of your short room to pull the cord to turn your light on.

You turned towards your desk and sighed, knowing it would be a long night for homework. You set everything down on the floor and pulled out your textbooks and laptop, setting them down on your desk. You sat at your chair and got to work on your Spanish homework, ready to crank through it so you could get to everything else.

A few hours had gone by, and you were starting not to feel so well. You thanked your lucky stars for the timing, since you were just finishing up the last parts of your homework. You looked at the clock, seeing it was almost 1 a.m. You sighed and got ready for bed, starting to steadily feel more sick and tired. By the time you flopped into bed at 1:02, you were nearly half asleep and sweating buckets. You barely managed to remember to pull your glasses off of your face before passing out entirely for the night, dreaming of weird spiders and itchy ankles.

You woke up the next morning at 6:30, still tired as you cursed yourself tiredly for not timing out when you would wake up with your sleep cycle. Still, you had gotten more sleep last night than you had in all of last week combined. So, you told yourself you were rested as you sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes. You blinked the tiredness away, noticing you could see clearly.

‘Did I forget to take out my contacts last night?’ you thought, a little scared at the idea until you realized you had worn your glasses yesterday. With a frown, you got out of bed and started to get ready anyway, keeping an eye out for any creepy-crawlies. You were mildly confused, but you would figure it out later. For now, you had to focus on getting to school on time with the nasty migraine you had.

[way-down-meme-town]

Tootsie (Act I)

Under the cut you will find 124 lyrics from the 2019 musical Tootsie for your enjoyment!

Opening Number 1. “The night is falling on Manhattan and soon the daylight will be gone.”

2. “Anticipation’s all around you as one by one the lights are coming on.”

3. “Your feet wanna fly and your pulse wants to raise ‘cause you’re free and you’re young and you’re in the right place.”

4. “You’re right here. You’re right now. You’re a part of New York.”

5. “Nothing in the world is like the feeling that anything is possible here, even the impossible is possibly possible here in New York.”

6. “Any dream can be a dream come true in New York.”

7. “Underneath the city that is all pavement is a city that’s all heart.”

8. “God, this is exciting. Don’t you feel giddy?”

9. “Alright everybody, let’s all stop the rehearsal again.”

10. “Would my character say the city is all heart?”

11. “Where in the history of the printed libretto does it say any of that?”

12. “My character deserves his truth.”

13. “I am just saying what every other actor on this stage is thinking.”

14. “You want out? You’re out.”

15. “This opening number is benign and dishonest, directed by an inept, derivative hack and this musical sucks.”

16. “Is he an actor? Yes, of course he is. Is he successful? Yes, of course he’s not.”

17. “You won’t see his name on the marquee.”

18. “Sounds to me like you don’t know what the hell you’re looking for.”

19. “He’s feeling victimized and bitter, like nothing good is gonna happen soon.”

20. “The odor of humiliation begins to permeate the room.”

21. “They need someone nicer, someone less reactive. Can you really blame them?”

22. “He’s gonna make it to the top.”

  Whaddya Do 23. “Whaddya do when suddenly you realize the calendar inside your head is running out of pages?”

24. “Whaddya do if you can see the odds are good you’ll never be the person you’ve been trying for?”

25. “Whaddya do when everything you wanted more than life itself is laughing at you?”

26. “Whaddya do? You make it work.”

27. “Whaddya do when everything is happening but everything is happening to everybody but you?”

28. “Are you haunted by the fact all you want to do is sacked and it’s all you want to do until you die?”

29. “I am stuck struggling in the muck, standing here all purpled and perplexed caught in the gap between what the hell just happened and what the hell is gonna happen next.”

30. “Ya got the list of all the hopese and dreams I missed.”

31. “Sometimes I look in the mirror and I am sad at what I see.”

32. “I came to the conclusion there really must be something wrong with all of those douchebags who won’t hire me.”

  What’s Gonna Happen 33. “I know what’s gonna happen.”

34. “I’ll try to go to bed with fear of failure flopping like a fruit bat in my head.”

35. “Which incidentally isn’t half as disconcerting or upsetting as going for a part you know there is no way that you are getting.”

36. “I’m heading downtown for the audition where everything I’m dreading will be coming to fruition.”

37. “Somewhere through the fog of insecurity and hate, I’ll try to convince them that I’m charming.”

38. “They’re gonna throw the book at me ‘cause I’m guilty.”

39. “We hereby sentence you to a lifetime of waiting table and debilitation self-loathing.”

40. “She’s a fake. She’s a phony. She could never win a Tony.”

41. “I now live in a place I know quite well. I’ve left the world and I’ve entered hell.”

42. “I’m this far away from a fainting spell.”

43. “I’m trying to take it slowly.”

44. “I’m trying to be my best.”

45. “I watch a vivid sequence of humiliating instances from my past go by and think what kind of masochist keeps coming back for me.”

46. “No! I know what’s gonna happen. Don’t tell me that I don’t.”

47. “Don’t say that I’ll rise to the occasion cause I won’t.”

48. “I’m smart enough to know that I’m too stupid to admit you can’t survive a diet that consists of eating shit.”

49. “The trick is knowing when it’s time to pack your bags and say that’s it.”

50. “You know what’s gonna happen. I know what’s gonna happen.”

  I Won’t Let You Down 51. “I’ve always imagined that you are the flower and I am the dirt.”

52. “My world spins around you. Whenever you fall I’m the one who gets hurt.”

53. “I give you all I have. Give me one thing in return.”

54. “Have me help you to help me to help you to help me to help you learn that I won’t let you down.”

55. “I’ll be here to play any role you need me to play.”

56. “You give me your trust. I give you my word.”

57. “Nobody sees me and nobody listens and nobody cares, but you know what’s in here. Love and devotion that needs to be shared.”

58. “I won’t let you down because you believe in me, because you’re the one who can see I’m here and alive.”

59. “I won’t let you down cause when I felt empty inside you filled up my cup, you lifted me up.”

60. “I’ll never let you down. I’ll do what you need me to do.”

61. “I promise I’ll always come through. Just call and I’m there.”

62. “Please make the right choice. Remember my voice.”

63. “Just give it some thought. I love you a lot.”

  I’m Alive 64. “I’m alive. I’m alive. Good God almighty, I’m alive.”

65. “Don’t hold your nose. I won’t decompose.”

66. “My world was a dud. Lots of death, lots of blood.”

67. “She was almost dead, but she’s alive.”

68. “What can I say, I got carried away, but now’s a new day.”

69. “Here’s the headline. She’s gonna be mine.”

  There Was John 70. “I was the girl in the bubble at school, behind my own personal wall for protection. I’d sit there alone like a fool. I never was able to make a comeback.”

71. “This life takes everything you give it, like a puppy or a kid.”

72. “He told me he wanted some kids and a wife, and that’s when I realized this is my life.”

73. “Yes, my heart was almost broken but I’d made my choice and I’d make it again.”

74. “Here is me, another dressing room number one thousand and three. Exactly where I should be.”

  I Like What She’s Doing 75. “I like what she’s doing. This might be a thing.”

76. “She’s fun but profound.”

77. “What she’s selling, I’m buying.”

78. “I love that she’s trying. Let’s follow her lead.”

79. “We were flat on our back, but now we’re on track.”

80. “She’ll polish this turd into treasure somehow.”

81. “Well, we got work to do. God knows how we got this far.”

82. “Alright kiddos, it’s your favorite stage manager. Breaks over!”

83. “Everyone else, there is a revised schedule on the board.”

84. “He saw your motionless hair and your avocado figure, and I lost the man I loved.”

85. “To be fair, dear, you did kill the last one.”

86. “Don’t I deserve a chance at a future that celebrates me?”

87. “I love what we’re saying. I’m smiling at last.”

88. “It’s great how we’re playing. I’m having a blast.”

89. “I trust you completely, so does the whole cast. We like what you’re doing.”

90. “She’s got something special that makes you engaged.”

91. “It’s almost electric when she hits the stage.”

92. “I can’t tell you how but, honey, I hope she keeps doing what she’s doing now.”

93. “She won’t take directions. She’s changing the play. She’s like an infection that won’t go away.”

94. “She just wants to fight me. She does it to spite me. I hate what she’s doing.”

95. “She’s bringing up memories I need to forget.”

96. “She’s stealing my girl, she’s stealing my show, and I’m ready to blow all because of that cow.”

97. “Goddamnit! She’s gotta stop doing what she’s doing now!”

98. “If you take her, you better take care of her!”

99. “I will devote my life to her happiness. I love her.”

100. “I like what she’s doing. She’s got so much heart. She’s so friggin’ sexy and so frickin’ smart.”

101. “She’s made me an actor.”

102. “Something was missing and she’s what it was.”

103. “How will I live without you here?”

104. “You have turned this show into a joyous anthem for all women.”

105. “I won’t let you down, because you believed in me.”

  Who Are You? 106. “I can’t escape the feeling I met you long ago in someplace filled with sunlight.”

107. “I’ve never been a needy or romantic guy, falling like a meteor in some poetic starry sky.”

108. “This is a different story, something completely strange. What the hell am I doing?”

109. “It’s nice connecting with someone, somebody I can talk to like someone I’ve always known. Where on Earth were you hiding?”

110. “I think it’s just amazing how fast this friendship has grown.”

111. “It’s felt so long since I was young and running free. I locked myself inside a box, but suddenly there’s the key.”

  What’s Gonna Happen (Reprise) 112. “You’re gonna stand me up and I’ll be staring at the phone, sitting there all dismal and pathetic and alone.”

113. “It never doesn’t happen.”

  Unstoppable 114. “She’s got me flying like a bird.”

115. “Stand aside, cause this girl’s on a roll. She’s unstoppable.”

116. “We got the role! We got the gig!”

117. “Told you before. Show me the door, I’ll kick it down.”

118. “Look out world, cause this girl’s on a roll!”

119. “Nothing and no one, not anything anyone ever can do or say can stop her.”

120. “I’ll be taking the world over soon.”

121. “There’s no mountain these heels can’t climb.”

122. “Nothing on Earth can stop me, cause I’m unstoppable.”

123. “Another sold out house tonight and it is because of you!”

124. “This has turned out better than I ever could have imagined. I love you.”

[beanfic]

Summertime Sadness - Ch.4

Word count: 1840

Warnings: Rebellious teen activities

Author’s note: I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

Song suggestions: Some Nights by Fun. and We are young by Fun.

The next morning at breakfast was no different than any other, even though your parents would beg to differ. They interrogated you with questions while you looked at your phone and ate your Cheerios.

“You never smile at your phone this often,” your mom said.

“Yeah, what happened last night?” your dad added.

“Nothing happened? I’m being normal?” you lied.

They didn’t believe your lie, and you decided to just ignore them. You couldn’t help smiling every time Josh’s name flashed up on your phone.

“Can I be excused?” you asked once you finished your cereal.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

You headed to the kitchen and washed your bowl out, and put it in the dishwasher. You ran back up to your bedroom and started to text Josh back.

We should hang tonight

You waited for his response eagerly. Once you heard your phone vibrate, you pounced and read it right away.

I’m totally down. Let me take you on a drive.

You smiled like an idiot to yourself as you read the message over and over. You really had never felt this way before, and what if he felt the same way too?

“Who are you texting?” your brother asked, barging into your room.

“Can you knock?”

“Excuse me? You fucking walked in on me watching porn. I think I get to barge in on you whenever I want.”

“Okay okay. I’m texting Josh.”

“Josh Dun?” His tone of voice gave you an anxious feeling, you really hated that your brother disapproved,

“Yes, he’s super nice. We’re hanging out again tonight.”

“He’s such a fucking douche.”

“You don’t even know him?”

“He went to my high school. I know him more than you do. He was that emo kid with the lip piercing. He’s weird.”

“Lip piercing?” The thought of Josh wearing a lip piercing made you giggle. “He’s different now though, John. He seems genuine and caring, and he’s attractive.”

You watched your brother roll his eyes.

“I don’t care if you disapprove, Johnny, I’m 18 and I can do whatever I want.”

“Y/N, it’s not that I disapprove, it’s that I don’t want my little sister getting hurt. He’s a bad influence.”

“Thanks, but I think I can handle myself, can you leave now?” you gave your brother a glare, showing him that he was no longer welcome in your room.

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out to see Josh calling you. You pressed the answer button, and held the phone up to your ear.

“Hey, Dun!”

“Hey, Y/L/N! I was wondering if we could make it a late night drive? Tyler wanted to rehearse for a little tonight.”

“Like how late?”

“I could pick you up around 11:30?”

“I can’t Josh, I have a curfew.”

“C’mon, Y/L/N.”

“I don’t know.”

“You can sneak out, they will never know.”

You took a second to think about Josh’s offer. Sneaking out couldn’t be too hard, and you knew that you parents go to bed early usually.

“Okay, I think I can pull it off.”

“Perfect! I’ll be outside around 11:30, okay?”

“Okay.”

“See you later, Y/L/N.”

“You too, Dun.”

You hung up the phone and held it against your chest and you plopped down on your bed backwards. You breathed in heavily and started to figure out a good way to sneak out. You decided that you were going to be on your best behavior all day, and go to bed early.

Your window wasn’t that high up so you decided to try to sneak out of that. Getting home would be harder, but you knew you could convince Johnny to come open the door for you, hopefully.

The rest of the day was a blur. It was spent with you helping your dad clean the garage and organize all his tools, as well as vacuuming the downstairs. Your mom was gone all day for work, which was good for you since she would have picked up on how you were helping out.

Your dad cooked spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner. Bri, Johnny and you all sat around the dinner table playing two truths and lie. A family tradition during dinner.

You were starting to feel nervous and dinner was coming to a close. You had never snuck out before, and you knew that if your parents found out,  your whole summer would probably be ruined.

You tried to reassure yourself by thinking of only positive outcomes, but occasionally the negative thought would come sneaking back in.

“You okay, Y/N?” you dad asked. “You’re spacing out pretty hard.”

“No I’m fine, just really tired. I think I’m going to go to bed pretty early tonight.” You tried to avoid eye contact with your family members as you headed to the kitchen to wash your dishes.

“Do you wanna wash my plate for me?” Bri handed you her plate, looking up at you with her big green eyes.

You sighed, “Sure.” You washed her plate as well. You looked at the kitchen clock, and it read 6:45. Only five more hours until you had to sneak out.  

You spent those last five hours by hanging out with Bri and helping her record a youtube video of her doing her makeup. By the time it was around 11:15 you said goodnight to your dad and your mom, who had just gotten home.

You sat in your room, waiting for the text from Josh saying that he was on his way. You decided to wear jeans and a queen sweatshirt that you Dad had given you last year. It was a sweatshirt he got from a concert he went to when he was younger.

You nibbled on your nails as the time grew closer and closer. You jumped a little when your phone vibrated and lit up with a text from Josh.

On my way!

You took a deep breath and stood up from your bed. You opened your bedroom window slowly, trying to make as little sound as you could. You had to pry off the screen part, which was easier than you were expecting.

You looked out at the tilted rooftop, and your heart started to beat faster as you noticed how far the grass actually was. You slowly put your left foot out on the planks of wood and tried to stable yourself before putting your second foot out.

Once you had both feet, you squatted and held onto the roof with your hands. You did a little shuffle down to the gutter, and you stared at the ground that was probably a good 8 feet away.

You sat on the gutter with your feet dangling off, and you threw yourself off hoping you would land on your feet. You hit the grass with a thud, and you could feel a sharp pain shoot up your left shin bone.

“Ow fu-” you stopped yourself before you cried out. The last thing you wanted was to wake up your family and them coming out and finding you.

You grabbed your shin and started to roll around the grass to distract yourself from screaming out in pain. The pain started to subside, and you stood up and started walking over to Josh’s jeep that was parked in front of your house.

“That was quite the show,” he chuckled as you hopped in.

“You saw all that?”

“I watched you climb out of your window and then chuck yourself off the roof, yeah, I saw it all,” he started laughing which made you burst out in laughter too.

“Where are we going?”

“Just sit back and relax!”

You were nervous. “Okay.”

“Do you trust me, Y/L/N?”

“Yes, Dun, I trust you.”

“Good.”

Josh started to drive away, and once he got onto the highway, he rolled down the window and blasted the music. He was playing the new Fun. album, some nights and you couldn’t help but to sing along.

“You’re a good singer,” he smiled over at you. You could feel your cheeks get hot.

“Sing with me.”

Josh looked over at you with this look in his eyes, and he shook his head. “I don’t sing.”

“I doubt that, Dun. You’re in a band.”

“I play drums, Tyler does the singing.”

You shrugged. The wind from the windows blew your hair around as he drove about 90 down the highway. Usually, you would feel scared, but you had never felt safer when you were with him.

You watched Josh’s hand turn down the music and he looked over at you. You both just smiled at each other and then giggling from the silent eye contact.

“I want to know more about you, Y/L/N. I know you just graduated, but tell me more about you.”

“Okay, well I have an older brother, who you know, and a little sister. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, I have three younger siblings. One brother and two sisters.”

“Nice, what about your drumming situation. How long have you been doing that for?”

He sighed, “I’ve been playing drums ever since I was little, but I started playing with Tyler’s band earlier this year.”

“That’s so cool! I’ve heard some of his music, it seems really cool.”

“Yeah, the band is called Twenty One Pilots.”

“Twenty One Pilots? But there's only two of you.”

He shrugged, “Ask Tyler. I didn't get to choose the band name!”

This made you laugh, “Any more questions for me?”

“Yeah, what do you do for fun? Like what are your hobbies?”

“Oh,” you thought about it for a while before deciding on what to say. “I like to write poetry, but I’m really interested in psychology. I’m going to community college starting in the fall.”

“Poetry? That’s really cool! Could I read it sometime?”

“Maybe.” You gave him a smirk.

“It’s already one in the morning, I should probably get you home!”

“True.”

Josh started driving back home, turning the music back up. We Are Young by Fun. was blasting and you started to sing along. You didn’t care what Josh thought of your singing, and at that moment you felt like you were invincible.

Josh took his right hand off his wheel and placed it on your hand that was on your lap. It took you by surprise, and you looked over at Josh who was still focused on the road. You allowed him to intertwine his fingers with yours, and you held his hand the rest of the way home.

He pulled up to the driveway and he let go of your hand. You immediately missed the warmth. You didn’t want to sneak back inside; you wanted to spend the rest of the night with Josh.

“Wish me luck, Dun,” you joked as you hopped out of his truck.

“Wait, Y/L/N, I think I’m really starting to like you.”

“You know what, Dun? I think I’m really starting to like you too.”

Tag list: 

@takenvysleep @ohprettyweeper @oncemorewithfeelingg @gaiatheroyalrabbit @svintsandghosts @krispy-cakes @patdsinner33 @breadbinishigh @demonsdontcontrolus

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. What do you like to do in your free time? So what do I do everyday? Tumblr, surveys, watch TV, watch YouTube, eat, sleep... sometimes read and color.  2. Are you more of an indoors or outdoors person? I am an indoors person all the way. The only exception is if I’m at the beach. 3. Who is the most fascinating person you’ve met? Hmm. 4. What was the last book you really got into? Burying the Honeysuckle Girls by Emily Carpenter.

5. What are some movies you really enjoyed? There’s several. 

6. What amazing adventures have you been on? I haven’t really been on any. 7. What pets have you had? Dogs, fishes, hamsters. 8. What’s your favorite alcoholic and non-alcoholic drink? I don’t drink alcohol anymore, so none, but my favorite non-alcoholic drink is coffee.  9. What are you kind of obsessed with these days? My food obsessions come to mind at the moment. My appetite is all over the place and I’m either an endless pit or hardly eating anything at all. Each week is different in terms of that and what I’m into. This past week it’s been breakfast burritos, deli sandwiches, deli pasta salads, and ramen. I also had a really good pizza last week that I’m craving again. 10. Where have you traveled? To beaches, mountainous areas, Disneyland, Arizona, Idaho, Georgia, Mexico. 11. What’s your favorite international food? Italian. 12. Are you a morning person or a night owl? I’m barely a person. 13. What’s your favorite restaurant? Applebees. 14. How many siblings do you have? 2. 15. What would be your dream job? I don’t have one. :/  16. What would you do if had enough money to not need a job? Travel.  17. Who is your favorite author? I have a few. 18. What was the last show you binge-watched? Orange is the New Black.  19. What TV series do you keep coming back to and re-watching? I’ve seen The Golden Girls, Roseanne, and I Love Lucy countless times in syndication.  20. What hobbies would you like to get into if you had the time and money? Hm. I don’t know. 21. If there was an Olympics for everyday activities, what activity would you have a good chance at winning a medal in? Taking surveys. 22. What would your perfect vacation look like? Somewhere involving a beach house and private beach area. 23. Among your friends, what are you best known for? I don’t know. 24. What music artist do you never get tired of? There’s a lot. Well, at least their music itself I never tire of. I may not necessarily keep up with the artist.  25. What are some accomplishments that you are really proud of? I honestly don’t feel proud of myself for much of anything in my current state. It used to be getting my BA, but now not even that because I’m doing anything with it and I really don’t have any plans to. I feel like it was a waste and I’m a total failure and disappointment. 26. What are some obscure things that you are or were really into? *shrug* 27. What are some things everyone should try at least once? I don’t knowww. 28. What fad did you never really understand? There’s been many where I was just like, wtf, why??

29. What’s the best thing that has happened to you this month? Going to the beach last week was great and very much needed. 30. What would your perfect morning be like? I’d be in a house with a beautiful ocean view and I’d be out sipping my coffee on the balcony overlooking said view.   31. Is there any art or artist you are really into? No. 32. What are you always game for? Coffee. 33. What do you do to unwind? Listen to ASMR. 34. What’s your favorite app on your phone? I use YouTube, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and Kindle app the most. 35. Cutest animal? Ugliest animal? Awwww I think majority of animals are cute.  36. Who is the kindest person you know? One of my nurses. 37. What’s your favorite piece of furniture you’ve ever owned? My bed. 38. Who are your kind of people? People with a good sense of humor. 39. Where’s the strangest place you’ve ever been? Uhhh. 40. What’s the silliest fear you have? I have a lot. Like for one, sometimes when I’m in the shower I get this scary thought about the pipes just bursting. That’s just one of many. 41. What would be the best city to live in? I don’t know. 42. What household chore is just the worst? I’m not a fan of any chore. 43. If you could give yourself a nickname, what nickname would you want people to call you? *shrug* Steph is fine. How original, I know. 44. What odd talent do you have? I don’t feel I have any. 45. If you could give everyone just one piece of advice, what would it be? Just try and be kind and understanding. 46. What would you like to know more about, but haven’t had the time to look into it? Hmm. 47. What country do you never want to visit? Any country where it would be dangerous for me to be in? <<< Yeah, I agree. 48. What wrong assumptions do people make about you? People think I’m “strong” and “brave” and give me way more credit than I deserve. I’m none of those things. 49. Do you prefer to work in a team or alone? Alone. 50. What has been the best period of your life so far? Childhood. 51. How have you changed from when you were in high school? That was over 10 years ago and a LOT has changed. Not for the better, either. 52. How techie are you? Uhh techie enough? I don’t know. I mean, I like the latest phones and laptops and stuff like that.  53. Where is the most fun place around where you live? Nowhere in my city, that’s for sure. You gotta travel out of town to do anything fun. 54. Have you ever joined any meetup groups? No. 55. Where would your friends or family be most surprised to find you? They’d be surprised to find me out at all at this point, ha. 56. What’s the most relaxing situation you could imagine? Lying out on the beach. 57. What is the most beautiful view you’ve seen? Ocean and mountainous views. 58. What’s expensive but totally worth it? For me, it’s my MacBook. 59. When do you feel most out of place? I often feel that way. 60. What’s the most recent thing you’ve done for the first time? I can’t think of something at the moment. My days are very routine and I do the same the things. 61. How did you come to love your one of your favorite musicians? Probably first seeing their music videos on MTV back when they actually played music videos. 62. How did you meet your best friend? She gave birth to me. 63. What small seemingly insignificant decision had a massive impact on your life? I don’t know. 64. Where would you move if you could move anywhere in the world and still find a job and maintain a reasonable standard of living? I’m not sure, but somewhere where it doesn’t get unbearably hot and has actual fall and winters.  65. Would you like to be famous? (If yes, what would you want to be famous for? If no, why not?) No. I don’t want that attention and focus on me. I couldn’t handle it. I hole up at home and have avoided people in my personal life, why would I want people all over all up in my business and judging my every move? No thank you. 66. What did you do last summer? Complain about how hot it was and was dying, mostly. What I do every summer. 67. If you lived to 100, would you rather keep the body or the mind of yourself at 30 until you were 100? What. 68. Before you make a call, do you rehearse what you are going to say? Oh god, yes. I HATE having to make calls.  69. What are you most grateful for? My family. 70. What’s the most essential part of a friendship? Being able to trust them and talk to them about things and enjoying common interests. 71. When was the last time you sang to yourself or to someone else? Yesterday. 72. If you knew you were going to die in a year, what would you change about how you live? I don’t like questions like this. 73. When was the last time you walked for more than an hour? Yearssss ago.  74. What did you do for (last holiday)? Or What will you do for (next closest holiday)? We didn’t do anything for Memorial Day. Next holiday is Father’s Day, and we’ll probably go to lunch and/or see a movie.  75. Best and worst flavor ice cream? What would make for an excellent new ice cream flavor? Strawberry or mint chocolate chip.  76. Who’s your favorite actor or actress? Alexander Skarsgard. 77. All modesty aside, what are you better at than 90% of people? It doesn’t have to be useful or serious, it can be something ridiculous. I don’t feel I’m great at anything. 78. What’s the strangest phone conversation you’ve ever had? I don’t know. 79. How much personal space do you need to be comfortable? I don’t want someone all hugged up on me. 80. What’s the most interesting fact you know? I couldn’t choose just one. 81. What fad or trend have you never been able to understand? A lot of them, honestly. 82. Who’s your favorite character from a TV show, movie, or book? I’ll just pick one of the many shows I watch, Riverdale: The main crew, Betty, Veronica, Judghead, and Archie. 83. What TV shows did you watch when you were a kid? Stuff on Nickelodeon, Disney, PBS, and WB Kids. Oh, and the Saturday morning cartoons that came on ABC like Recess and Pepperann. 84. What do you like but are kind of embarrassed to admit? I don’t feel embarrassed about anything I like. 85. What’s your favorite smell? When an attractive guy smells good, oh my. <<< That really is nice. And the ocean/beachy air, rain, patchouli, sandalwood, fruity scents, minty scents, cinnamon, coffee, freshly baked goods and the smells of my favorite foods... 86. What skill or ability have you always wanted to learn? I wish I took piano more seriously back when I used to practice. 87. What’s the best meal you’ve ever had? Recently, it was the pizza I had last week.  88. Where was your favorite place to go when you were a kid? Anywhere with my cousins. 89. What’s the most amount of people you had to present something in front of? Like 30+. Presenting in front of anyone is a nightmare. 90. If you could go back in time as an observer, no one could see you, and you couldn’t interact with anything, when would you want to go back to? Ooh. I’d have to really think about that. 91. What’s something that most people haven’t done, but you have? Hmm. 92. What says the most about a person? How they present themselves. 93. What machine or appliance in your house aggravates you the most? None, really. Unless it’s not working for some reason. 94. What places have you visited that exceeded your expectations? Certain vacation spots and restaurants. 95. If you opened a business, what type of business would you start? I wouldn’t. 96. What’s the worst movie you’ve ever seen? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a really bad movie. 97. What’s the best road trip you’ve been on? Trip to Idaho back in the summer of 2010. A lot of my family on my mom’s side went and it was really fun. We had no idea it would be the last time we’d see my grandpa before he died the end of that year. It happened really fast. He wasn’t even sick like that when we visited him that summer. At least, he didn’t appear to be. That trip ended up being even more special. 98. If you found a briefcase filled with 1 million in 100$ bills in front of your door, what would you do with it? Check for ID or if anyone has reported it missing. Otherwise, I’d keep it. 99. What’s the worst advice someone has given you? I don’t know. 100. Besides your home and your work, where do you spend most of your time? I’m always at home.  101. If you could have the answer to any one question, what question would you want the answer to? Hmm.  102. What are your top 3 favorite things to talk about? Common interests, celebrity/entertainment gossip, some current event type stuff. 103. What do you care least about? It would seem like myself. 104. Where would you like to retire? I’m not even thinking about that right now. I’m not even working. :X 105. Who is the most bizarre person you’ve met? Uhh. 106. What are people often surprised to learn about you? What happened to me that made me a paraplegic. 107. Would you rather live full time in an RV or full time on a sailboat? RV. 108. What would you do with the extra time if you never had to sleep? I really wouldn’t want that. I want my sleep. I need that escape. 109. When you were a kid, what seemed like the best thing about being a grown up? You think you can do whatever you want. 110. What’s the strangest way you’ve become friends with someone? I can’t think of any strange ways. 111. What’s your go-to series or movie when you want to watch something but can’t find anything to watch? If I can’t find something to watch on TV then I tend to just put it on the ID channel. 112. What were some of the turning points in your life? My accident, surgeries, graduating, health related things. 113. What companies made you so mad that you would rather suffer bodily harm than give them any more of your money? I’ve never been that upset with a company.  114. What small things brighten up your day when they happen? When what happens? 115. What sports would be funniest if the athletes had to be drunk while playing? I still wouldn’t care to watch sports. 116. What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve done because you were bored? Just sleep. 117. If you could send one letter to yourself in the past without the goal of making yourself rich (no lotto numbers, stock picks, etc.), what age would you choose and what would the letter say? I’d go back to like...high school days and warn myself of some things and tell myself to take better care of myself. 118. How many other countries have you visited? Just one. 119. What’s your favorite band NAME (not necessarily your favorite band)? Panic! At the Disco. I just like the “Panic!” part, ha. And why at the disco? What happened? 120. What do you miss about life 10 or 20 years ago? My life wasn’t ran by my health. 121. What’s your favorite holiday? Christmas.  122. What’s getting worse and worse as you get older? What’s getting better and better as you get older? Worse: health and life. Better: .... 123. Where’s the best place in (your town or city) to have a picnic? I guess a park. 124. What’s your favorite thing to do outdoors? Go to the beach.  125. How often do you dance? Silly/ironic dancing counts. I may bob my head while listening to music. 126. What do you never get tired of? Coffee. 127. What habit do you wish you could start? Better self-care things. 128. What’s the best way to get to know who someone really is? Just spending time getting to know them. Oh, and seeing how they act in public situations.  129. What’s the last new thing you tried? A new type of pizza last week. 130. Who besides your parents taught you the most about life? I’d say experiences have. 131. When are you the most “you” that you can be? In other words, when do you feel most like yourself? At home in my comfort zone. 132. What’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve done? *shrug* I’m not very spontaneous. 133. What’s happening now, that in 20 years people will look back on and laugh about? A lot of things, I’m sure. Like how easily people get all up in an uproar about literally everything. 134. How much social interaction is too much? I can’t handle much. 135. How different do you act when you are with acquaintances vs. people you are comfortable with? I’m just more guarded and aware, I guess.  136. On a weekend or holiday, what’s the best time of day and the best time of night? All the days are the same to me.  137. What are you looking forward to that’s happening soon? Beach trip. 138. What really cheesy song do you love? There’s plenty of those. 139. What’s the worst or best job you’ve had? I’ve never had one. 140. What’s been the most significant plot twist in your own life? I never saw this downward spiral coming after I graduated in 2015. It really went downhill after that. 141. Where did you take family vacations to when you were younger? Disneyland and beachy, touristy places. 142. What’s your go-to funny story? I don’t know. 143. If the company you work for / the college you go to had an honest slogan, what would it be? I don’t work and I’m done with school. 144. If you could instantly receive a Ph.D. in any discipline including all the knowledge and experience that goes along with it, what would your Ph.D. be in? I don’t want one, though. I’m not even doing anything with my BA. 145. How well do you cope when you don’t have your phone with you for an extended period of time? I’m fine. 146. What were some of the happiest times of your life so far? Various times in my life with family, childhood, vacations. 147. Would you rather have an incredibly fast car or incredibly fast internet speed? Incredibly fast internet speed. 148. What are the top three social situations you try to avoid most? Any social situation? ha. 149. What friendship you’ve had has impacted you the most? The friendship Ty and I had. 150. What’s something you’re interested in that most people wouldn’t expect? I don’t know. 151. What’s your favourite quote or saying?

152. If you had the power to change one law, what law would you change? Uhhhh. 153. What’s the hardest you’ve worked for something? My BA degree. Ha. What a waste now. 154. What took you way too long to figure out? My stubbornness caused me a lot of problems. I didn’t think things could get the way they are, but they sure did.  155. What nicknames have you had throughout your life? Steph and Sis. 156. What do you do differently than most people? A lot of things, probably. 157. Where’s the last place you’d ever go? Space. 158. What fact floored you when you heard it? I can’t think, man. 159. If you unexpectedly won 10,000$, what would you spend it on? I’d want to travel for sure. Take me awayyyy. 160. Who is the best role model a person could have? That depends on you and what you��re aspiring to be.

[stressa-bessa]

Satin Slippers - Part 3: Moderato

hey guys! I’ve decided that there will be a part 4 to this series! Stay tuned as I would like to have it up by the weekend. If you like this series, let me know, and if you have any requests, comments, feedback, please send it to me!

High School!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Angst & Fluff!

Word count: 3502

 The sun shone through your bedroom window, the light of day break waking you from your sleep. Today was the day of the Spring recital. You had awoken with knots in your stomach, but you weren’t sure if you were nervous for the show or due to the previous night with Peter.

The two of you hadn’t spoken since the evening where you almost kissed. You hadn’t attended school yesterday as you had a mandatory dance class and rehearsal during the day, leaving you unable to meet up with him for your usual morning bagel. He hadn’t responded to any of your texts, but you knew that the Avengers were particularly busy, as your dad, while back in the country, had been absent yet again.

You slip your toes into some fluffy slippers and walk into the kitchen to make some breakfast. The penthouse was quiet without the Avengers there to keep you company. Opting for some tea and oatmeal, you sit on the counter while you wait for the kettle to boil.

You pull out your phone and look at the last text you sent Peter.

8:47 am Y/N: Hey Pete? Can we talk?

9:32 am Y/N: I hope I didn’t freak you out last night, I’m sorry

1:23 pm Y/N: Can you give me a call when you have the chance?

3:54 pm Y/N: Stay safe xx ❤️

Had you scared him away? you thought quietly to yourself, grabbing your stomach to soothe the knots that were growing tighter with every passing minute.

You phone vibrated in your hand, a smile growing on your face as you hoped that it was a message from Peter.

To your dismay, it was Annabelle confirming that you would bring her an extra pair of tights. With a sigh, you reply quickly to your friend.

As you poured the hot water into your cup and bowl, being greeted by Pepper, who walked into the kitchen to join you.

“Good morning, superstar.” She smiles, kissing the top of your head.

“Good morning, Pepper.” You reply sweetly, sitting beside her at the kitchen table.

Pepper had always done her very best to treat you like one of her own children. She respected the fact that she wasn’t your mother and never tried to replace her, however, Pepper felt that you were her entire world. She had been a mother figure to you since you were four years old. She was truly the only mother you ever knew. When Pepper had started dating Tony, she knew that the two of you were a package deal and she never tried to change that.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” She says with a sympathetic look in her eye.

“Nothing.” You sigh, looking into your plain looking oatmeal. The berries you had hoped to dress it with had gone moldy in the fridge. Just another thing on your list to be disappointed about.

“I’ve known you long enough to sense when you’re off. What’s up?” Pepper presses, lifting your chin up so you could look her in the eye.

“I’m nervous…but not for the show. Peter hasn’t talked to me in two days and I think it’s all my fault.” You confess, a lump forming in your throat as fear washes over your body.

“Well, what happened? It’s not like Peter to just leave you hanging.” Pepper counters as she sits back into her chair.

“He was supposed to come over after my dance class, and he did. But I was a bumbling mess of tears because I am angry with dad. Peter was trying to console me and then we almost kissed, but dad interrupted us. Peter then rushed out of the tower and I haven’t seen or heard from him since. He won’t even reply to my texts.” You cry, a couple of tears falling onto your cheeks.

“Mmm, I see.” Pepper hums, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Think about how Peter is probably feeling. He’s been stuck on a plane and on a mission with your dad for the last 35 hours. The poor guy is probably sweating bullets and is definitely busy. I’m sure he will give you a call the moment they land.” She smiles, chuckling lightly. Pepper always knew the right thing to say.

“Now, the issue with your father. He’s a stubborn man, you know?” She laughs, “Part of him feels that he’s losing you, his little buddy. You’re interested in your own life now and Peter, and your dad feels left out. But because he’s stubborn, he won’t say anything and will just let you do your own thing while he focuses on work. Maybe you should try and talk to him tonight when we go for dinner?” Pepper suggests, grabbing your hand for reassurance.

“You’re right. I didn’t think of it that way.” You sigh, realizing that you should have tried to see things from your dad’s point of view.

“You aren’t supposed to, you’re young! You figure these things out over time.” She smiles while standing up. “I’d be happy to give you a ride to the studio, if you’d like?” Pepper adds as she wraps her house coat tighter to her body. “Maybe we could go for lunch beforehand?”

“I’d love that, Pep!” you chirp as you finish eating your breakfast.

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

With your dance bag in tow, you and Pepper walk across the street from where you’ve parked and enter a cheery little café. It had the loveliest view of the harbor with the skyscrapers lining the horizon.

Pepper’s tall frame looked dashing in slick skinny jeans, riding boots and a black blazer, her red hair pulled back in to a sleek ponytail.

You on the other hand, had your messy locks slicked into a tight bun with baggy sweat pants, your dance jacket and uggs.

As the two of you got seated, you could see a large mass block out the suns view, and a rumble came from the ground beneath your feet. Trailing behind the darkness in the sky, flew Iron man. You could see Spider-Man swing from the buildings across the horizon.

With a sigh, Pepper looked at you and said, “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m sure they’ll be on time for tonight. All you should focus on is yourself.” She consoles with a smile.

Unfortunately, seeing your father and crush sweep through the city had become a common occurrence for both you and Pepper. If it had been something incredibly serious, the rest of the Avengers would have been called and Tony would have contacted the both of you. However, these missions often took a while and the chance of the two of them arriving on time, let alone at all, was incredibly slim.

You gave Pepper a look, as if to say that you knew your dad would once again miss another show.

“Well…You can count on me!” Pepper says overly enthusiastic tone, trying to cheer you up. A sigh escaping your lips as you looked down at your menu.

Meanwhile…

Peter and the rest of the Avengers had just landed after a quick trip to Washington. There had been some suspicious activity at the Pentagon that needed resolving from the team. As they landed, Peter had whipped out his phone out to message you. He had been so busy that he hadn’t had the chance to reply to you. As if fate was in his way, just as he was about to hit ‘send’, more trouble arose causing both Tony and Peter to jump into action.

The henchmen from the mission at the Pentagon had followed the Quinjet to New York, unfortunately, only Tony and Peter had been on board as the rest of the gang had stayed back in Washington to keep an eye on things.

“uhm, Mr. Stark?” Peter says hesitantly, webbing the bad guys that were trying to interrupt Tony, who was working on disabling what seemed to be the central line of the aircraft.

“What, kid?” He shouts back.

“It’s 6:30!”

“So? Can’t you see that we are a little busy?” Tony replies sharply, annoyed that Peter was interrupting his work.

Peter takes a punch to the face, shooting a web at his attacker. The web pins the henchman to the wall allowing Peter to go after the others.

“The show starts at 7!” Peter reminds, drop kicking one of the bad guys that was aiming a gun at Tony.

“What show!? Kid, you should be more focused on the task at hand rather than your How I Met Your Mother reruns-“

“No! Y/N’s show!” Peter interrupts hastily.

Tony had completely forgotten among the chaos over the past few days. He was grateful to be wearing a mask as it concealed his shame and embarrassment. The last thing he needed was to let you down.

“Then I guess we better get moving!” He shouts, kicking his suit into high gear.

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

At the theater, you were pacing back and forth in the hallway that lead to backstage, the sound of your point shoes making an annoying tapping sound on the hardwood.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? You are never this nervous.” Annabelle asks in a concerned tone.

“It’s nothing.” You sigh, looking at the clock on the wall.

A familiar red head pops behind the stage door.

“Any news from them Pepper?” You plead, searching her face for an answer.

“Nothing yet. Don’t sweat it, kiddo. Just go out there and do your best, okay?” She smiles as she adjusts the tiara on the top of your head. “You look perfect.  Now, let me have my proud mom moment and pose for a photo!” Pepper laughs as she pulls out her phone, snapping a photo of you on pointe and a silly one with Annabelle.

That small moment with Pepper was enough to calm your mind for the time being, until you reached the wings of the stage. You couldn’t get Peter out of your head. You were so worried about his well-being, and on top of that, the state of your friendship.

After what felt like eternity, the stage hands gave you the cue to set yourselves in the wings before taking your position on stage.

You could hear the crowd clapping as you nervously walk on stage to set your place. You look over at Annabelle who gives you a wink for good luck. You place your self in the center of the stage and hold your breath. It wasn’t until the curtains opened and that you had turned around, that you saw, not only Pepper, but your dad and Peter, in the front row, safe and sound.

With that, you breathed a deep sigh of relief, allowing yourself to fall in tempo to the music.

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

A roar of applause filled the theater as you and your friends walk to the front of the stage for a bow. You could see faintly, a giant smile on Tony and Pepper’s faces. Peter looked completely astonished.

This ballet had been one of the most beautiful things Peter had even seen. He compared it to the first snow fall of the year, how magical and captivating it could be. Peter thought that you were simply radiant. He could tell where you were among the corps de ballet by your stage presence alone. He knew his girl.

Scrambling backstage in a line that resembled ducklings, you took in a deep breath, a large smile forming as you exhale.

“Way to go, Y/N!” Your ballet mistress says as she gives you a long congratulatory hug. “The Mazurka was beautiful and vibrant. Keep up the great work! You never know, we might give you something bigger for the Christmas recital.” She mentions with a coy smile as she walks away to congratulate another soloist.

You walk to the dressing room and plop down at your vanity, flicking on the lights that shone around your mirror. Annabelle sits beside you and gives you a giant smile.

As you take out your earrings, she taps your shoulder and leans close to you. In almost a whisper, she says “There’s a cute boy waiting for you at the stage door, I can only assume that it’s Peter?” Annabelle giggles, excited for her friend.

You felt your stomach drop. You knew that he was here, why did this come as such a surprise? Maybe you were stressing because you haven’t spoken, let alone seen, Peter in almost 3 days and now you had no idea as to what he was going to say.

Standing up and taking a shaky breath, you turn towards the hall that lead you to the stage door. As you were about to walk out of the dressing room, Annabelle shouts “Good luck!”.

You hesitantly push open the stage door, standing before you, with his back turned, was an incredibly nervous Peter Parker. In one hand he held a bouquet of flowers and the other running through his brown, wavy hair.

“Peter?” You say softly, stepping lightly down the couple of stairs that led into the lobby.

As Peter turned around, his jaw dropped. You look even more stunning in person! Peter thought to himself.

“Wow, you’re beautiful.” Peter sighs, his eyes staring gracefully into yours. “The whole performance was beautiful…wow.” He smiles, handing you the bouquet. “Th-these are for you.” Peter stutters. For some reason he was suddenly nervous, his hands shaking as he gives you the flowers.

“Thank you, Pete.” You smile, accepting the beautiful flowers. You took a light sniff at the vibrant, fragrant buds.

“I’m so sorry that I’ve been MIA.” Peter spits out, his big, brown eyes looking at you sincerely.

“Peter, it’s okay. You were more than a little busy.” You chuckle, walking closer to the boy, noticing a small bruise forming underneath his eye. “You’re here now, and that’s what matters.” You say, leaning in closer to Peter.

“You know, I really wanted to kiss you the other night.” He smiles, holding the sides of your face in his hands.

“I know.” You say, biting your lower lip as you look up at him.

“Is it too late?” He asks, a concerned look in his eyes.

“It’s never too late.” You reply, a smile growing across your lips. You felt as if you had a million butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. Your cheeks grew hot as Peter leaned in and pressed his soft lips to yours in a much-anticipated kiss.

You lean into his kiss, deepening it as your wrap your free hand around his neck.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls the two of you away from your kiss. You peer over Peter’s shoulder and catch Pepper hitting your father with the programme from the recital.  Peter turns around quickly to see Tony standing there.

“Uhm, Mr. Stark, I can explain-“ Peter stutters, anxiously running his hand through his hair. He was slightly embarrassed to be caught by your dad.

“There is no need, Peter.” Pepper smiles, interrupting whatever Tony was about to say. She walks over and gives you a big hug and a kiss on the head. “You were incredible, kiddo. Can I take a picture of you and Peter, with those beautiful flowers?” Pepper winks as she lines up the two of you and snaps a photo with her phone. “Tony, why don’t you step in with them.” Pepper asks, but it came out sounding more like a demand. He walks behind the two of you and places a hand on your shoulder. Once Pepper had finished taking photos, he turns you to face him.

“I’m so proud of you, kid.” He says with a tear in his eye. “Thanks dad.” You smile, giving him a giant hug. Tony wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you in closer. “Your grandmother would have been so proud.” He whispers in your ear.

 --------------------------------

The following morning, your dad woke up early to cook you breakfast. You woke up to the aroma of bacon filling the air. As you entered the kitchen, you saw your dad wearing Pepper’s pink, frilly apron as he flipped bacon in the pan.

“Morning dad.” You smile, sitting on one of the bar stools that was directly in front of the stove.

“Mornin’ kiddo. I thought the two of us could sit and chat over breakfast?” He says happily, a nervous gaze in his eye.

“I’d love that, dad.” You smile. The fact that your dad was attempting to make things better meant the world to you.

Once breakfast was ready, the two of you sat across from each other at the table, making silly faces at each other until one of you broke down laughing. Having broken the tension through that childhood game, Tony clears his throat and gazes at you with a serious look.

“I’m sorry that I have been absent, Y/N. I am so sorry. I know I’ve been an ass lately but it’s no excuse. I’m your dad and I should have been there for you. I felt like I was being replaced, but I had forgotten what it was like to be a teenager, captivated in my own life. Busy with school and friends, falling in love with not only people, but passions. I’m sorry. It’s a tough time and my dad bailed on me when I was your age, and I realized that the last thing I wanted was to become like my father. I let myself down, but even worse, I let you down.” He sighs, a lump forming in his throat.

You take his rough hand in yours, and smile.

“It’s okay, dad. I understand. I’m just happy that we are here, together, now. And that you came last night. That’s all I need.” You reply. You were just relieved to have your dad back.

“Well, since that’s cleared up…what’s the deal with Parker?” He asks sternly, a cool look in his eye.

“I have no clue.” You sigh, thinking about the kiss last night.

“What do you mean ‘I have no clue’!” Tony mocks in a high-pitched tone. “Clearly, you and spiderling are into each other.”

“Easy there, dad. I wouldn’t go that far-“ “Kid, the two of you were practically on top of each other last night. Invite the kid over and talk to him.” Tony laughs.

“You won’t be mad? Like, if we were to date?” You ask shyly, worried at what your father’s reaction might be.

“Why would I be mad? Peter is a great kid, who has excellent marks in school and a great heart. He’ll take care of you, he’s already proven that to me.” Tony smiles, squeezing your hand gently.

“But I thought because of mom-“

“Look, there is more to that story than you know. You are not your mother. Pepper, myself and your grandmother raised you to be better than that. I was in a bad place at that time…Peter is nothing like me. I’ll tell you the rest over a glass of rye when you’re of legal drinking age.” Tony laughs, “So? Are you going to call him, or do I have to do it for you?”

With a gulp, you pull out your phone and text Peter, asking him to come over around noon.

“There. I did it.” You sigh anxiously as you hit send. Within seconds, your phone buzzed with a reply from Peter.

Pete 💖: I’m in the area, could I swing over now?

Looking up at your dad, “Peter said he’s in the area and asked if he could swing by now? Would you mind?” You ask politely. “I just don’t want to step on your toes- “ “Baby girl, go for it. I guarantee you that he’s been hovering around the Tower all morning.” Tony smirks, having known this as a fact.

Peter was caught on the security cameras numerous times this morning, as he had been anxiously swinging around, wanting to come in and talk to you, but his nerves had gotten the best of him.

Peter wanted so desperately to tell you all his feelings. Aunt May had encouraged him to go over and talk to you, but he was so caught in his own head that receiving your text had given him the boost that he needed.

The elevator doors opened and revealed an incredibly nervous Peter Parker.

You had no idea how he could be so brave and outrageous when he wore the Spider suit but when it was just Peter, he became so shy and vulnerable.

“Mornin’ Parker!” Tony hollers, frightening the timid spider-boy.

“Good m-morning, Mr. Stark. Is Y/N home?” He asks politely.

You pop your head from around the table and smile.

“Mornin’ Pete!” You reply cheerily. “Wanna go for a walk?”

This gave you two the chance to be alone without your parents eavesdropping on the two of you.

With a relieved smile on his face, Peter agrees and follows you to the elevator.

[iminlovewith-rogers-car]

"Don't tell Roger" (Maylor fic)

Part: 4/?

AO3 link - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3  -  Part 4

HOLY FUCK I CANT BELIEVE THERES 4 OF THIS SHIT

CHAPTER 4: ACTUALLY...

Roger's bed was really big, way more space than he needed, even if he had company; it was also incredibly comfortable since he made sure to get the coziest sheets and blankets, as well as about a dozen puffy pillows.

To top it all, he had recently bought silky pajamas in Japan, but he rarely wore them, given that he would always end up getting rid of his clothes during the night, he was always more comfortable wearing only his underwear, and sometimes not even that.

So considering how ridiculously planned the comfort of his bed is, its uncommon to find Rog as uneasy in bed as he was tonight. He just could not go to sleep, no matter how tired he undoubtedly was nor how inviting his bed could be.

"Alright what about... 'Hey Bri, I...' I what? I like you? No no no I can't just throw it at him like that... What if I just kiss him? No that's... That's fucking harassment for sure... Ugh," he threw his arms over his face. Rog had been trying to find the "best way" to tell Brian for a few hours now, he was lying in bed trying to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes a new possibility came to mind.

"But if he is mad at me now... Then I should probably approach him and let him speak right?" He had apparently found his "best way" (which unsurprisingly was to just have a normal conversation, and see where it went)

Roger tried his best to block out every related thought, or else he wouldn't get any sleep at all, it was too hard, but he was actually exhausted, so he finally fell asleep around 3:00 am.

~~~

The indescribably annoying noise of his analogue alarm clock would often scare Roger, just a little. When he bought his alarm clock, Rog made sure to choose the one with the most annoying sound he could find, because he wanted to make sure there was no chance he'd oversleep; and when he brought it home, he decided to place it a little far from his bed and not on his nightstand, this way he would have to get up to stop the terrible sound. Many missed courses on college got him to develop these little waking up strategies.

8:00 am. He sucked at waking up, he was almost incapable of waking up before noon if he was to do so naturally; and he usually didn't need to worry about it, since the band wouldn't meet at the studio before 4:00 pm, given that they soon realized that being half asleep while crafting musical masterpieces wasn't exactly working, so they had all agreed to take the mornings to themselves; unless of course they had a deadline, a concert coming up, or any kind of important situation that demanded some more of their time. After all, they weren't amateurs anymore, they were rockstars, and music wasn't a hobby anymore, it was a full time job.

Today they were recording a couple of songs, and a concert was coming up soon... So, yes, today was one of those days when they needed to dedicate some extra time to their music, so they decided to meet at the studio around 10:00 am.

For John, 10:00 am is late enough; he's used to waking up at 6:00 am, working out a little, taking a shower, having breakfast with Veronica and chilling for a while, so, naturally, he'd be perfectly awake at 10:00, (but of course, this meant he'd usually be sleepy by 9:30 pm)

Brian too was okay with waking up early, he wasn't particularly eager to it though, since he'd usually stay up late observing constellations as well as the moon and stars movements with his telescope. When he started making some real money, the first thing he bought for himself was a brand new professional telescope, and he didn't waste any opportunity to use it. Still, he was way too used to waking up naturally around 8:00 am, as he had to back when he was in college, so he was often a little tired in the morning.

Freddie was not as much of an early bird as John and Brian but he would manage, he loved waking up late, it reminded him of the days at boarding school and how much he wished he didn't have to wake up at 6:00 am every single day, and now that he was an adult and could choose his own schedule thanks to his dream job, he wasn't gonna miss the chance to fullfil this innocent and too-usual childhood wish.

Roger was the biggest night owl out of the four of them. If he wasn't with Freddie partying, watching a movie, or just talking, he was at home reading until around 2:00 am or even later, watching a movie on his own, or just enjoying the night at home in any way he could imagine; sometimes he'd just lay in bed thinking about life, about things that were bothering him, or about how much he loved his new life; he considered himself very lucky to be where he was, and he never forgot how hard he worked (and still did, possibly more than ever) to get every opportunity he encountered along the way.

~~~

When the alarm clock started its hellish performance, Rog was comfortably asleep, cuddled up and surrounded by warm blankets and pillows. His eyes were now suddenly wide open, and he growled as he made his way to the clock. He considered throwing it out the window and going back to bed, but when he thought of the consequences of not showing up he chose otherwise. Slowly running his fingers through his messy blonde hair he made his way over to the bathroom, once there he washed his face and looked at his reflection on the mirror right in the eye. "I gotta do this today," he said loudly enough, as if he was having an actual conversation.

~~~

The rehearsal went pretty well, as expected, the boys didn't really need to practice, as they soon noticed, but a few more hours of it never hurt anyone, right?

As a consequence, the recording went smoothly and relaxed, (some teasing and yelling took place, as usual, but nothing dramatic)

~~~

It's worth mentioning that poor Brian still kept his act of being not interested in Roger whatsoever, only speaking to him if Roger asked a question directly to him or something like that. Brian realized it was relatively foolish to keep that up, but he was too invested in this plan of maybe getting his friendship with Roger to be back to normal eventually if he managed to convince him that he wasn't and was never attracted to him.

But of course, this doesn't mean he isn't, really.

Brian's crush was as big as ever, he'd stare at Roger when he wasn't looking, and he'd love each time they spoke, treasuring the feeling of being close to him, even if he wasn't about to allow himself to go any closer.

To be perfectly honest, this few weeks had not been easy for Bri; some days he thought it was no big deal and things would be normal soon, but some other days he figured "normal" still meant not being with Roger, not holding him in his arms, not kissing his plump pink lips... Nothing; and yes, of course Rog could eventually forget about this awkwardness, but could Brian ever forget he loved Roger? And, in the meantime, he wasn't only denying himself the delicious company of the man he loved, but also, the company of his best friend; and because all of this Brian had become a bit depressed as he grieved for his impossible love.

Some nights, when it was really late and he couldn't hear a single noise from the street, when the night was at it's darkest, he'd allow himself to cry quietly in his bed, with his face hiding in his pillow and his back to the window, as if he was hiding his face from the moon. He'd cry softly, with low whimpers escaping his throat once in a while; his long fingers would swip the tears away from his flushed cheeks until he eventually fell asleep, once or twice dreaming about Roger and himself being together; and then the next day he'd wash his face, hide his pain, and go make music with Roger again.

~~~

At around 8:00 pm the boys were done with their work for the day.

Roger could hear Deaky and Freddie making plans for the four of them to go to dinner together, but he didn't really listened, to be fair, he wasn't interested, all he wanted was to get to Brian.

He spotted him in the back of the room, gathering his stuff and putting the Red Special carefully in it's case, so he nervously and carefully made his way over there.

"Hello Bri," he said in an adorable, playful voice

"Oh, hello," Brian didn't really look up from what he was doing

"How've you been?"

"Oh, you know..." Brian shrugged

"Well, I don't really," Rog laughed nervously "You've been kind of avoiding me." Roger managed to not have this sound like a complaint, but a playful (and obviously anxious) joke

"I have not," Brian blushed since it was exactly what he had been doing "I've just been busy"

"So... There's nothing wrong?" Roger tried to reassure himself "... Between us I mean"

This hit Brian out of nowhere. He wasn't the only one suffering, he'd also ripped himself and his friendship from Roger's life, and he was probably missing him too, this made him feel terribly guilty

"Oh Rog, of course not, how can you think that?" He knew exactly why he thought that

"Well... You've been distant, a-and I get it I mean if you've been busy as you said you were, but, uhm, there's something I kind of really need to tell you, b-but, if this is not a good time I can wait 'till uhm..." He was cut off by Brian

"No, no, it is a good time Rog, what is it you want to talk about?" Brian was suddenly too kind and polite again, because of both his love and the guilt

Roger sighed loudly and sat down next to where Brian was gathering his stuff, and Brian sat next to him.

Roger started to breathe a little faster and his face turned pale

"Rog, are you alright?" Brian was genuinely concerned, this seemed like bad news

"Yeah yeah just... Nervous, and" Roger paused and looked for his cigarettes on his pocket, once he found them he lit a cigarette to calm himself down a little.

Brian's anxiety was growing with every second that passed, was he in trouble?Leaving the band? In a legal issue? Knocked someone up? What?!

"Brian it is hard for me to do this but you have to remember that no matter what you say I'm always gonna be here, and I hope you don't hate me for this but I really can't live like this anymore, I need to get this off my chest and maybe, just maybe, get the chance to have what I've been wanting for ages now"

"Roger what? First of all I could never hate you, that's ridiculous, what is this about?"

"I like you Bri" Roger spat out shyly "actually... I love you"

~~~

After a long pause Roger continued

"I'm sorry, I know maybe that's not something you want to hear and..."

He was interrupted by Brian, but he wasn't yelling, or freaking out, or lecturing him... He was kissing him.

Brian pressed his lips against Roger's, and then, immediately shifted to a passionate and needy kiss. Roger was paralized at first, he wasn't processing what was happening, he had never expected this, but when we could calm down a little he kissed Brian back in a no less passionate manner.

Brian was holding Roger's cheek firmly, then moving his hand back to his neck.

Roger had his hand on Brian's lower back and the other hand on his own leg.

Brian eventually backed off a little, just far enough to look at Roger's gorgeous eyes.

"I love you too Rog, I have for a while now"

They started kissing again, softly, slowly, romantically, and they could not even think about anything in the world that mattered aside from each other, this was just so so so perfect for both of them, so unexpected, so blissful...

[iamagarbagepotato-blog]

A Potato Appears [Part 1 of 3].

Just to put this out there immediately: this is **NOT** a ProAna/ProMia blog, and I do not condone or encourage any of the actions or behaviors I express in this blog.

Now that that’s out of the way; Hi. I’ll call myself Sophia, I’m 29 years old, study full time in college, work as a server/bartender, and I have been struggling with bulimia since 2014. I had stopped in 2015, but severely relapsed in 2017. The only people that know are myself and the counselors I saw in 2014, my dentist, and the therapist I see currently.

I wanted to start this blog because I do not feel brave enough in my external life to talk to any friends, family, my boyfriend, or even my general practitioner doctor about this problem. Mostly because while I am not severely underweight like I was in 2014 (in fact, I do have a normal BMI), my laxative abuse is real and I feel as if it is consuming my life to the point where it interferes with my work, my social life, and especially my current academic life.

 I’ll fill in some background information and clue y’all in; just be aware that it’s a novel... 

Humble Beginnings (2013-2015)

I was 23.

It was early summer where I was living in southwest Florida, and the weather was unrealistically hot and humid. I had just come home from a very expensive grocery shopping trip for my boss at work (I was a bartender for a popular Mexican restaurant in the area) for one of my other boss’ going away party. I was tasked with making boozy treats for the adults. I remember them vividly; champagne cupcakes, chocolate Modelo Negro cupcakes, strawberry margarita cupcakes, Corona cupcakes with lime and beer buttercream, and Blue Moon cupcakes (because why not?) with orange and beer buttercream. I had posted a selfie of myself about halfway through covered completely in flour and other baking messes when a guy I had known from my days of marching drum corps messaged me. Let’s call him Mike. I had always thought he was attractive and very musically talented, so I entertained his flattering messages, and eventually we hopped on Skype as I continued baking while he sat on his couch drinking Bud Light. 

He had made some forward comments; I didn’t mind because Florida had done my body good, even after my retirement from drum corps. He mentioned possibly coming up to visit him in Ohio, to which I said wouldn’t be a problem. He asked if I was serious, and I asked him if he was.. we set a date and I was off to visit Ohio two or three weeks later. 

Once I landed, things with Mike were awkward, at first... but they progressed fast and hard. After a couple of months of visiting, I decided to move there permanently. I was also offered a chance to finish my music degree (which was something I had put off since 2011 and desperately wanted to complete) and was offered a position with a small, local, volunteer orchestra. 

In early January of 2014, I had set out on the long 1200+ mile journey to move everything I could fit in my car from Florida to Ohio. I decided to not move in with him right away and instead lived with a roommate that was also a mutual friend of Mike’s, and she was dating the employer I had when I moved to Ohio. I was all set; I was working as a bartender, performing music on the side, meeting new people, and was set to start school in the fall later that year. I was dating one of the best musicians I knew that not only shared my love of orchestral music, but that of competitive marching music too. I was being shown off, and was enjoying life in a new city with new people. 

Well, in March my roommate decided to take a few months-long trip to someplace off the grid. I could not afford the apartment on my own and was still a bit too new to the area to scour for a new roommate on such short notice, so I hesitantly moved in with Mike, and that’s when things started to get a bit weird. He had noted that even at his age at the time (32), he had never had a girlfriend live with him, nor had he ever had a girlfriend longer than a year. We worked opposite schedules, him teaching mornings and afternoons, and myself teaching students in the late afternoon before working nights in to late night. He had begun to make a few comments about how I had put on weight for my first winter in three years and it started to get on my nerves.

His behavior became weird at this time; He needed attention on him at all times. One incident I remember in particular was after an orchestra rehearsal, we had gone to a bar with friends and a lot of people at the bar started talking to me (mostly about my instrument and about the concert program for when/where they could see it) and Mike just busted out his instrument and started playing so people would acknowledge him. Thinking about that now still makes me incredibly uneasy. It was around this time, I started thinking that he might have had a drinking problem. Each night I’d come home to a 30 pack of Bud Light gone in a day and a half, and I know that I don’t drink that stuff, even in my worst of states. Whenever we’d go to parties, bar performances, or comedy shows, he’d always be the one drinking. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but looking back now, I missed a lot of red flags. 

Around June, his comments about my weight had gotten on my nerves a bit more, and I was a bit on edge because I had started a second serving/bartending job a few weeks prior in a new upscale place. I became increasingly suspicious when he began concealing his phone. I’m not an overly paranoid girlfriend that wants to know your business, but his behavior became odd. I grew suspicious that he may have been talking to, or even seeing someone else while I was working two jobs and teaching my music students.

It made me think that it was my fault... that somehow with me becoming more and more unattractive was the reason he was being led astray. So I started running, and I started running a LOT. It was hard because, yeah, I was out of shape, but I also have asthma. I became frustrated when I couldn’t complete a time or distance that I wanted, and I’d punish myself for that by forcing myself to purge by vomiting. The first time was so hard, but seeing all the stir fry I had made and consumed hours before expel from my body and being flushed away gave me a sense of cleanliness. I was so glad to be rid of that. In my mind, I did deserve it. I would deprive myself of foods, and what little I did eat would be expelled when I could get away with it without suspicion. 

Eventually I did something terrible; I did look at his phone and did confirm that he was not faithful to me. I was a bit scared about whether or not I should confront him about this. Most nights when he’d be drinking, he’d become emotionally abusive and would become unnecessarily argumentative with me to the point I’d breathe a sigh of relief when he’d pass out on the couch instead of crawling in to bed with me. When confronted, he immediately pinned me as the bad guy by going through his phone. In retrospect, it definitely wasn’t the smartest idea, nor the most honest, but it gave me the answer I was looking for and confirmed my suspicions. He became angry and so irate and I don’t remember much of what happened next other than a series os smacks across the face and jaw and being pushed down on to the bed we once shared and had “relations” in just hours before. After he had yelled at me so much that his spittle grossly mixed with he blood on my face, he strangely apologized, got up, and passed out on the couch for the remainder of the evening. 

I layed there on the bed motionless for hours, thinking that this could have been avoided if I had just stayed thin. I didn’t know what to do; I had no friends that weren’t also his, I had no family (the closest was 6 hours away), and I had no money to run or go someplace else. I only got up that morning to shower and notice that one of my farther back anterior teeth was missing (and still is, but it’s hardly noticeable, but it is a constant reminder). To this day, I am unsure of my tooth dislodged because of the force he was using, or because the damage I had done to my teeth from throwing up so much. It remains a mystery. After he came to, we had agreed that until I found someplace else, I would have complete access to the bedroom and it would be my space and my space only. I chose this room because it was the only one in the apartment with a functioning lock.

I had felt pretty terrible medically about a week later; I had more severe cramps than normal and my menstrual blood was extremely heavy and different in appearance. I promptly went to the doctor to see what the problem was. Turned out that I not only miscarried at 8 weeks without even knowing I was pregnant because I was taking a birth control pill and we used condoms, but I also had a stomach ulcer. The physician noted the dramatic decrease in weight (140lbs in the winter to about 110lbs in mid-June) but noted it to be from the ulcer and the stress of the miscarriage. I had every opportunity to say that I was bringing and purging and refusing food; I could have said something about needing help in my dangerous situation... but I did nothing as he gave me a prescription for Effexor.

I became very quiet in the house, and was scolded often for not acknowledging his presence when I’d enter or leave a room he was in. He became so controlling and wanted to strip me of my privacy so much that he actually removed the door from the hinges so that the only privacy I had was in the bathroom. A few weeks of this and we’re finally in to July of 2014. He bought us tickets to see the baseball team play on the Fourth of July; which was a nice gesture and I went because I wasn’t working. I was very quiet because the Fourth of July is a somber holiday for me because my favorite uncle committed suicide on that day in 2006 and the memory still plays vividly in my mind every year. Around the third inning, Mike looked at me quietly watching the game, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “A few of my friends are here; I’m going to go sit with them.” Not long after, I gathered my things, hopped on the train, and walked back to the apartment only to discover that we only took one set of keys; his keys. So I sat at a bar for the next eight hours, watching the game, and glancing out the window to see if I would see him walk by so I could be let in. We were both very quiet after that. I had duct-taped a shower curtain on to the door frame just to have a small bit of privacy afterwards. 

About a week later, Mike had reconnected with a guy friend he only saw occasionally since high school. They’d drink together and from hearing their conversations and hearing the beer cans being thrown in the recycling box that they both had problems with controlling their alcohol. I am unsure of why I was so judgmental of this when I couldn’t control myself when it came to binging and purging on a daily basis. His friend would often make comments to him about trying to get us back together, calling me Mike’s “cute suburbanite girlfriend” in the process. I was probably a jerk for eavesdropping (but he took away my fucking DOOR so he kinda asked for it) but this was the only time I ever heard Mike admit to someone that he had a problem with alcohol; both of them admitted it to each other, actually. At this point, their conversation moved outside and I have no idea what happened next until the next morning because I had fallen asleep watching a film with headphones in.

I had woken up the next morning to the sounds of knocking on the door; it was one of Mike’s friends asking for his spare glasses. I was confused because I didn’t see Mike anywhere or any sign that he had returned from when he had been out with his friend the night before. Turns out, he and his friend had gone on a walk and had gotten in to a physical altercation. To this day, Mike claims that I somehow conspired to set it up, but after what had just happened to me, I would never risk any physical harm on another human being, especially maliciously and violently. In light of this, I immediately called my mother who lived six hours away for her to wire me some money so I could come home immediately. I stayed for a week while Mike stayed with his parents nearby in order to give my job some minimal notice and to cover all my grounds with our mutual landlord. 

When I came home to my mom, I was 102lbs and couldn’t bring myself to purge in her tiny home when she and her dog would hear me and investigate. I caught treatment silently through a local program, but ceased shortly after when my hectic life of working three jobs became a bit too much for me to worry about anything else. I thought I was free from bulimia.. until 2017 hit me like a ton of bricks.

Part 2 will continue soon... 

[timotheetea]

Could you write a post "50 unusual facts about Timmy"?

Don’t know how ‘unusual’ these are, but here’s 50 facts/quotes:1. “To love someone is to become them, and that love is an act of empathy, and that to take on your [lover’s] name in an expression of love is to totally reveal yourself as a human being and to offer yourself as a compassionate lover and friend.” 2. “(Happiness is) that feeling of flow. I think you can accomplish flow doing anything, it can be stapling papers, it can be playing sport, it can be the way you drive a car. If you can achieve that kind of ow where it becomes mindless, sensory and instinctive – that’s happiness.” 3. He grew up in hell’s kitchen, Manhattan, 43th and ninth, in a 33-floor high-rise so close to the clouds that ”it felt like we were literally floating in the sky”. & “I grew up in this melting-pot of cultures in the 33th floor of a tower floating above the sky, and I felt like it let me be free to find myself.”4. Favourite actor: mainly he mentions Joaquin Phoenix, but one time he said it was Louis de Funès. 5. “This is the dream, to be at the forefront of any film… I get to be a part of something that is beyond any sort of acclaim, affecting people on a visceral level when they see it, or at least some members.”6. What does love feel like to you? “The definition changes by the day, and what I can think of today as far as what love is to me would be having the security to receive warmth.” 7. “I was in college for a little bit and it felt like a clear decision to not [finish]; it was scary because I didn’t want to rob myself of growing as a human. But it’s been the exact opposite: going from set to set, working with creative, open people, having mentors rooting for you. There’s education within that, I guess.”8. His father’s side of the family is from La Chambon-sur-Lignon and saint-Agréve in France 9. “I want to pursue other things creatively, not so much music, but definitely writing and directing. I’m going to be very, very patient about that. The dream as an actor is to be economically self-sustainable and what this year has been is beyond that now. I’m getting a creative license of sorts.” 10. How did your parents meet? “My father, who’s French, was on a business trip in New York for Le Parisien. He’s a journalist, who now works for the United Nations. My mom was a dancer, now she’s in the real estate business. I can’t tell if my sister and I feel more French or American. I stayed in New York while she’s been living in Paris for quite some time. I spent every summer in France until I was 15 years old, but New York is my home.”11. What do you read in your spare time, do you prefer essays or literature? “Literature. I’m currently obsessed with Russian authors. Tolstoj, but also Dostoevskij. Crime and Punishment is a gut punch.” Also he said he’s read Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Homer, and Lord Byron, books mentioned in Prodigal Son. About reading: “Maybe the deep narratives that comprise most books are really daunting.” 12. He’s really good at improv 13. Timothée Chalamet’s high-school drama teacher Mr. Shifman on the naturalism of his acting: “He just happened to come to my room for the callback audition, and I remember his audition because I gave him the highest score I’ve ever given a kid auditioning.” 14. He mentioned James White as his favourite film. 15. He watched interstellar 12 times.16. Blue Valentine is his favourite romantic film. 17. “I saw The Dark Knight when I was thirteen, before I applied for LaGuardia, and Heath Ledger made me want to act” in another interview: “When I was 12 years old I petitioned my mom and grandma to see Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight with me. I left that theatre a changed man. Heath Ledger’s performance in that film was visceral and viral to me. And I now had the acting bug.”18. His favourite reality tv show is I love New York 19. He said La La Land was so inspiring, it felt like an ode to his grandma’s life. 20. He wanted to be a famous footballer growing up. “I am French, after all.” & “I was a coach at a soccer camp in France. I coached 6 to 10-year-olds when I was around 13. I was good at it, but the pay was not acting money.” 21. Up until he was 15 he went to France in the summers to visit his father’s side of the family. 22. His sister Pauline is 26. 23. His great great grandparents were jewish immigrants who were fleeing prosecution. 24. His mom once called their family a ‘nuclear family’. 25. He’s got a turtle named ertle. 26. His parents have been married 32 years - I believe their anniversary is on October 13th. 27. His grandfather is Harold Flender, who wrote Rescue in Denmark28. He went to the elementary school ps87 29. He went to J.H.S. 54 Brooker T. Washington on the upper west side which he called a “miserable, miserable 3 years” 30. His old roommates were Giullian Gioiello and Kristina Reyes 31. He once said about his high school LaGuardia: “Truthfully I went because I thought there’d be less academic work!” 32. “I naturally have a me-against-the-world mentality and I’ve been fighting it since I was 13. It’s felt like it’s only gotten me in lonely, angry places.”33. He studied Cultural Anthropology at Columbia University. He said about Columbia: “I felt like I was another product on the factory line.“ 34. He used to live in the Bronx on the Grand Concourse 35. “Fourteen was the worst year of my life. Sixteen was the worst year of my life. Seventeen, 18 and 19 were pretty bad, too, but 15 was excellent for me. I know what the “special, beautiful room in hell” means. It just speaks to John’s genius in seeing the world through the eyes of this age.” 36. “LaGuardia was my Thomas More in that I was surrounded by kids like me who were outgoing and obnoxious and needed a ton of attention.” 37. Did you have support from your parents, Timothée? “Oh yeah, I’ve been very lucky. One article [about Prodigal Son] started by saying that I had a “challenging upbringing in Hell’s Kitchen,” and my mom was incensed. She said, “What are you talking about? You had babysitters!” But we all have our issues. Whatever genetic loading I had put me through trials and tribulations I almost didn’t make it to the other side of, but I’m here now. I wouldn’t be able to do a play like [Podrigal Son] without having gone through that.” 38. “The most humbling part of these experiences is realizing how ladder-oriented it is,” he said. “And that’s only fair. It’s a testament to gatekeeping, I guess, and you do have to earn your stripes.”39. “Columbia takes a wholehearted academic commitment that I think I have in me, but it was just not where my mind was at the time.” 40. About Prodigal Son: “It’s been kicking my ass, but in the best way possible,” he says of the run, with its eight- and even nine-show weeks. “There are some days when I go home, especially during the rehearsal process, and I’m like, ‘Wow, this is really hard,’ but the lower the lows, the higher the highs. When I have those days where I feel like everything clicks, it’s the most exceptional feeling in the world. The ups and downs are crazy, but it feels like every muscle is being used on stage.” & “I have to get up on the nights when I feel like I don’t have it in me and find a way to wrench it out of me and get through the nights when it feels amazing. The story is so emotional and it hits so close to home. I was living in the Bronx last year and I was losing my mind, and I get to exercise those demons every night.”41. “I’ve always had that smaller guy’s mentality, and I fought my entire life and tried to assimilate more, but [acting in Prodigal Son] is like a mental exercise that I get to be this guy and people are watching. I feel like it serves a purpose and my me-vs.-the-world mentality is not just dragging me down like I usually feel. In fact, it’s being put to some good use.”42. “I’m going to enjoy every second of this—it sounds cheesy, but I think of myself as an actor third, an artist second, and a fan first,” he said. “But I have genuine fear of having the inability to replicate this moment again.”43. Similarities with Elio: “An openness to life—to the universe, a yearning for deep experiences, hopefully.”43. “New York in the summer is my favorite time of the year; there’s something special about it.”44. About borrowing Call Me By Your Name (the book) at a college library: “I didn’t give it back for a year and I had a fine of $100, so before this movie gave me a career it took money from me.”45. “When you’re suffering, or grieving, the only thing you can control or protect yourself from is the added layer of shame, beating yourself up over heartbreak, or forbidding yourself the pain.”46. “No sexuality, just love.”47. Do you have a secret party trick?“A capacity for self-loathing.”48. He auditioned for Spider Pan, “I read twice and I left sweating in a total panic.”49. “Now that my foot is in the door, I’m locked and loaded. I’m focused.” 50. “The villain in Call Me by Your Name is the tragedy of love—what seems to be part of the deal you sign with someone when you experience an amazing time with them.” 

[iammariae23]

My Life Before Pandemic

I’ve observing the things around me, how the pandemic change people. Did it affect my daily life? How it affect my daily life. Did I realize something in the middle of this pandemic? I realize that this pandemic is the way to bond with my family, because before pandemic we don’t have time to bond each other because most of the time everyday I am not in the house because we are busy to our own businesses.

Before pandemic, I always have a busy schedule everyday. From Monday to Friday, I have to wake up at 5am to prepare myself for going to school, at 6am my service will fetch me in our house to take me to school. My classes at school starts at 6:30 in the morning and ends at 2:15 in the afternoon. At 2:45 I am already at home, I will change my clothes and eat some snacks. Sometimes I go home at 3pm because of some activities and errands I need to attend at school or sometimes I go out with my friends. After that I will rest a bit and after that I will do my school works. Around 4pm I will open my instrument and play my pieces I need to practice for my weekly lesson. When the clock strikes at 6pm me, together with my family will pray angelus. At 7pm I will have a dinner with my family, we will eat together. At night we will sleep in our own rooms. Because we are too tired with our business whole day.

Every Saturday I have a classes in Orchestra, from 7am to 5pm. We are thought there with free music lessons, with professional mentors. When Sunday came we will attend Sunday mass at 8am and ate lunch together. After lunch I have a rehearsals in our orchestra until 5pm. At 6pm I will have an angelus with my family and ate dinner together. And need to sleep early because tomorrow is another day.

That is my life before pandemic, I am so busy with my life. But now even we have our own business atleast we are under the same roof, eating together and often see each other. We also bond together every weekends. We often spend quality time together as a family, because of pandemic. Yes, I do miss my other business that I do before pandemic, but i also happy where I am right now.

[whereintheworldisbella]

Spelunking in Russia

-- Disclaimer -- This story is from summer 2014. I wrote the beginning shortly after it happened, and never penned the rest until just now, six years later. So sadly I can’t remember a lot of the small details, but I try to recount the story to the best of my recollection. Here goes nothing...

Hi all, sorry it's been so long since my last post, but I promise this story's worth the wait.

So last week was the final week for the students on the 4-week program. To celebrate, we all went to a bar on Friday night and I tried a vodka milkshake.  I'm not sure if I liked it..I think I would have preferred just the milkshake.

Then I walked home with some friends and was finally out late enough that I got to see the city "at night" - I say this in quotes because at 1 or 2 AM the sky still wasn't completely dark. St. Petersburg at night is absolutely beautiful.

When Marie and I got home (Marie is the other student who lives with the same host family as I do), we went into the kitchen for water and a snack. Alexey, the father of the 3 small girls who all live with us, comes into the kitchen and prepares himself a meal (remember, this is about 2, 2:30 in the morning). He starts talking to us pretty quickly (well, normally I guess, but to us it seems fast) and we nod along, even though we don't understand what he's saying.

Then his father-in-law, Sasha (a diminutive for Alexander), comes into the kitchen and asks us if we understand. We admit that we don't and he gets annoyed that we didn't say anything, but to be honest it's late and we're pretty tired. Sasha explains that Alexey and Julia (his wife) met in a cave. "Ahhhh" we say, as if that explains the entire 5 minutes of talking we just heard. Then Alexey, speaking slower, goes on to explain something to us. All I am able to distinguish is: "forest," "photographs," "festival," "you will get dirty." He asks us if we want to come with him. Marie passes but I, feeling adventurous, say I would like to.

The next day (well, technically later on the same day), on Saturday, I finish my homework and wait for Alexey to return. **Now writing in retrospect, 6 years later, based off memory.** I’m clad out in a new pair of hiking pants and some sneakers. When Alexey returns he looks at me and asks if that’s what I’m going in, because it looks too nice to get dirty. I feel self-conscious and say it’s fine. He packs some bags and we head down the old staircase to his old jeep and take off.

The car ride is bumpy to say the least. As a typical driver in St. Petersburg, Alexey zooms in and out of traffic in his very used, very noisy jeep, the safety of which is questionable. At one point the car stalls. Russian music plays on the radio as this stranger that I’ve known all but a few interactions drives me toward the outskirts of the city and beyond, out into the country where the roads are narrow, without shoulders. Since he doesn’t speak English and I barely know Russian, we don’t hold a conversation.

After about 45 minutes or an hour, he pulls over the car and informs me that we’ve arrived. I look around. All I see are fields and forests. Still, I’ve been to a huge music festival in Denmark before that’s held in the middle of farms, so I go with it. I get out the car to help him unload the trunk but he just changes shoes and says to get back into the car, that he’ll go another way. Confused, I get back into the car and Alexey starts driving off the road and into the forest. There’s no road, but Alexey weaves between trees, as he did in traffic, the car bouncing so violently that I picture the screws falling out and the whole car just going to pieces.

By this point, I start to get a little worried. Why did this man take me out to the middle of nowhere? Surely I can’t be in any danger because the school program know him, right? I mean, they are letting me live with him and his family. Yet I can’t help wondering…

Then he stops suddenly - trees are blocking the way. He backs up, driving just as fast in reverse as he was going forward, weaving through the trees backward. Stops. Forward again. Then we’re there, and I see a bonfire and some tents. Relief washes over me. We set up a small orange 2-person tent a bit away from the others and Alexey tells me to follow him through the woods. Despite the signs of other people, I don’t see anyone.

We leave our stuff in the tent and walk a few minutes until we get to a crater in the ground with a small hole at the bottom, like a tunnel. We’re close to the roadway - I hear a truck go by. Alexey starts speaking quickly in Russian. He hands me a flashlight, motions to the tunnel in the crater and says “You go first.”

I’m starting to suspect that there’s no music festival, after all.

I climb down, turn the flashlight on, and enter the cave. Alexey follows behind me. The space is small, dark, and damp, and every time a truck passes on the road the earth trembles. Alexey motions for me to follow and we venture further into the cave, at some points squeezing through narrow spaces to get into the next “room.” I feel extremely claustrophobic. Some water drips on my head, or is it slime from bats? I don’t like caves one bit, I conclude.

Alexey starts speaking to me. I think he’s explaining different types of rocks, but I have no clue what he’s saying. I try asking what the caves are used for. I think he mentions something about bunkers in the wartime. Makes sense, I think.

Then, much to my relief, Alexey motions back to the single entrance and we exit the cave. Nearby is another crater - in fact, they’re everywhere. Now I hear voices. We enter another hole and it’s like some sort of art exhibit, or the private meeting place of a secret society. Candles are lit, figures are drawn on the cave walls, and a small group of Russian boys and men are drinking and talking in the cave. Alexey greets them and introduces me.

I’m embarrassed when he says I’m American and they all are suddenly fascinated. They start asking me questions, practicing their broken english, and laughing. I have a sinking feeling that they’re laughing at me and slinging some insults. I try my best to respond, and not feel self-conscious. I spout my rehearsed intro about myself and why I’m in Russia - to learn the language because I think it’s a pretty language. They offer me alcohol but I decline.

When we get outside, we head to the tents, where others have now gathered, among them women and children. I start speaking with them and we eat dinner (I think some sort of hot dogs and beans? Though I can’t say I remember). We talk about Russian novels, and poems, and music. I’m embarrassed that I don’t know more but they’re impressed with what I do know, and I feel a bond. Vodka is passed around. Then someone breaks out their guitar and the whole camp - about 10 of us maybe - starts singing together.

We stay that way for a while, until the sun finally disappears and night falls. I get to know a young mother (Irina) and her young son, and another girl from Moscow, Natasha, who’s about my age (I will go on to visit them each again, twice, during my stay in Russia. I’m still friends with them on Facebook and Vkontaktya).

I feel much more at ease now that I have made some female friends. Then someone picks up a shovel, yells “Davai!”, and heads off into the darkness. Everyone follows with flashlights, still singing and strumming the guitar. We get to another crater and two men jump in and start shoveling, one of them now shirtless. The music continues and the shovelers swap out. I think they’re trying to find an entrance to another cave. (I don’t remember if they actually did, but I don’t think so.)

It seems like hours pass like this before people start heading back to camp for bed. It was starting to get light again, but because it was summer (white nights), it was still the middle of the night. Alexey and I made our way to the small, orange tent and, exhausted, fell asleep. I slept in my clothes, next to my host-brother, and though we each had our own sleeping bag, I felt quite weird about the situation. Anyway, he snored, and the next thing I knew it was morning.

We ate some kasha or bagels and cheese (I think) for breakfast and packed up. I guess the cave exploring was over (thank God). I swapped telephone numbers with Irina and Natasha, and made plans to go to the beach along the Baltic with them later that day. Then Alexey and I drove back home.

The beach we went to was close to Irina’s dacha, out in the country. We had to take a train and then stand on a hot and overcrowded marshutka to get there. Many locals spent their summers at their dachas, or traveled there on weekends, which was the case for my host-family. On the train I could see travelers hauling bags of freshly picked mushrooms and berries from the countryside back into the city.

By this point, my Russian improved a lot and I was able to have pretty meaningful conversations with Irina and Natasha about the differences between the US and Russia, especially around finances. Sadly, Natasha had to return to Moscow the next day, and although we met up when I visited Moscow one weekend with the school program, we haven’t kept in touch. I feel like we would have become friends if she lived in St. Petersburg.

Irina did live in St. Petersburg, in the outskirts, and I did visit her for dinner one evening. Because I was super late, I didn’t have time to buy any food or housewarming gift. I know is considered rude to show up empty-handed, and I tried to explain that I didn’t want to be more late than I was already, and apologized many times, but honestly I was too embarrassed to hold close contact with her after.

Overall, spelunking in Russia was the craziest thing I did there. I was uncomfortable the entire time, but I’m so glad I impulsively decided to go. I can’t say that anything tangible came out of if (lasting friendships, hard skills, or even photos because I was too nervous to take any), but this memory sure does make for one hell of a story, and I’ll never forget it.