Some Bad, But a Whole Lot of Good (LS2)
Summary: To the fans, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume the week after his replacement had been hell for newly dropped Logan Sargeant, but to the people who knew him, they weren't worried.
Warning: James Vowles slander, a lot of it, I made Logan yell at him because I want to yell at him
Getting fired a week before your first child was born wasn't on anyone's bucket list. But here Logan was.
He was mad- no he was furious. Sure, the past few months with the team have been miserable, but this was the worst timing possible.
"Why now? Why not the two weeks we were off on break?" Logan asks yells. He doesn't lose his cool, at least not like this, not by yelling at his boss.
"Logan, you have to understand we are in between a rock and a hard place. I am truly sorry but it's a difficult time for us-" Vowles begins to explain.
"A difficult time for you? I am about to have a fucking baby, James. Next week! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "You just had a baby a year ago, I would have thought you of all people would have thought this through more."
"Believe me, we have Logan, we have discussed this at length for a long time now."
"Oh fuck you! You have been thinking about this for a long time and choose now to do something about it? God, James, why do you hate me so much? I know I haven't met expectations, I know I have fucked up, but I still have given everything to this team and this is how you end it?" he finally met his boss'- ex boss' now, I guess, stare.
As Logan looked at his team principal, he tried to see any remorse or sincerity in his eyes but just as he had suspected, James' apology was bullshit, completely insincere. He knew this wasn't going anywhere, he didn't even know why he was fighting.
Formula 1 had been the dream for a while. Logan had let himself sacrifice everything he could to achieve it. He tried to tell himself that he had made it and that he was happy, but it wasn't true. He couldn't face the reality of the dream he worked so hard for not being everything he had imagined.
After meetings about contract termination and how they were to proceed, a sad little goodbye party filled with people that were probably thrilled to have him go, and an actually heartfelt apology and goodbye from his teammate and those he worked closely with, the American left the factory for the last time.
The most difficult part of this whole affair? Telling his very pregnant wife that he was now unemployed, a week until their first child's due date.
After tears, cursing a certain British boss' bloodline, and dissociative silence, Logan sat next to his wife as she suddenly burst into laughter.
He was stunned, she was practically doubling over, at least as much as she could in her current condition. The sight so ridiculous given the circumstances that he began to laugh too.
Several minutes were spent laughing until their stomachs hurt and then trying to catch their breath before either one of them could say another word.
"This is such terrible timing!" she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to giggle.
"Could not me a worse time" he replied as he started to laugh even harder.
"God, we shouldn't be laughing at this! We have officially lost our minds"
"Perfect timing too! Just like everything else"
It was ironic, this was the absolute worse scenario Logan could come up with but this was also the hardest he had laughed in a long time. When was the last time he actually laughed? The last time he actually felt joy about anything involving his job?
As if she could sense what he was thinking, she took a few deep breaths, finally calming down, as she said, "This is insane of me to say, but maybe this is a good thing?"
He knew where she was going, he thought the same, but he needed to hear her rationalize it before he agreed.
"I mean, honey, you were miserable. And I am sorry because I did love some of the people on your team but most of them were jackasses! It was such a time commitment and you have spent so long giving everything to them just for the team to spit in your face. Plus, with savings and such, we have enough to be fine for a while, even with the baby. You finally can put your family and yourself first"
She was right, it was time he admitted to himself how much he had hated his job in the past few months. How miserable it made him. How he could hardly enjoy anything in his life because he was always thinking of how to improve, how to show he still has potential even with the shitty car he was given.
"Im sorry. I- its not fair that I spent so long chasing a dead end dream that I couldn't actually enjoy what I do have. I mean, I could never race again and I would be 1000 times happier with out little family then I could ever be in F1. I will never not put you both first again." He said as he looked at her, held the bump, and genuinely got to relish in what was to come.
The first race weekend since Logan was replaced, he wasn't stewing in his misery, he was sitting in the hospital next to his wife, holding his first born, and the last thing on his mind was what was happening anywhere else in the world outside of the room his entire life was currently in.
logansargeant
liked by alexalbon, jensonbutton, and others
logansargeant New job
user1 hey! so this is insane
user2 unemployment has never looked better
alexalbon This is a crazy way to hard launch fatherhood but good on you, mate!
logansargeant got to keep them guessing
user4 dilf era yes please
oscarpiastri how long is the contract?
logansargeant full time for 18 years, then after there is a bit more leeway, but there is certainly no retirement in my future
user3 replaced right before he had a BABY?! oh that British fuck better watch out
jensonbutton Such a big moment! So happy to see where life takes you, I know it will be great!
A/N: Had to finish this right after the news he is testing for indycar in november dropped!!! U-S-A U-S-A!
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strawberry cake.
kim seungmin × fem!reader — high school! au, childhood friends to potential lovers, fluff
summary — seungmin only needs one present on his birthday, and it isn't the sugary dessert you made for him.
word count — 1.1K
warnings — fluff, fluff, FLUFF!!
author's note — happy seungmin day 🩷 i actually managed to post a fic on a member's birthday, who am i. initially thought of my baseball ksm fic but i know i'm not gonna finish that lol and his instagram posts were very inspiring. i think i watched this happen in some movie or tv show i watched, i don't remember 😭 but i thought it was really cute, lmk what you guys think <3
please consider leaving feedback in the comments or reblogs as they really make my day 💕
Kim Seungmin didn't like celebrating his birthday that much. Sure, he liked receiving a few gifts from his friends and a happy birthday here and there, but he didn't like the blowout parties that you loved. On your birthday, you would plan this whole thing, inviting friends from school and neighbors to celebrate your birthday. You were a social butterfly, so he understood why you did that. You loved being surrounded by people you cherished. Your birthday was just an excuse to call everyone over and spend time with them.
Seungmin, however, liked keeping his celebrations more reserved. His mother greeted him in the morning, making his favorite breakfast to eat and favorite lunch to take to school. His dad handed him some cash to buy something to eat after school, which he usually didn't do and opted to save it for a better cause. His sister offered to take him out for lunch on the weekend.
Of course, being the wonderful and amazing best friend that you were (your words), you always went out of your way to do something. Like this year, you presented him with a small cake slightly smushed in your lunch box with haphazardly thrown purple sprinkles.
“I made it from scratch,” you added with a big grin as you sat in front of his desk. His friends had left a few moments ago to play on the school grounds. He'd stayed back, finishing up the last of his lunch and letting it settle in his stomach before he ran around playing soccer. A small smile formed on his face; he could never dislike your enthusiasm for his birthday.
“It looks... artistic,” he said in an amused tone, looking up from the lunch box to your face, which was scrunched up in a frown.
“I didn't know the box would be small... And hey, I baked this for you; at least show some appreciation!”
Seungmin laughed. “Sorry, thank you for making this cake for me.” He meant that; he knew that you knew it too, because your shoulders relaxed, and you prompted him to take a bite and tell him how it tasted. There was a little too much sugar for his liking, but he didn't tell you that, instead nodding his head in approval and eating more of it. It was strawberry-flavored, his favorite. It warmed his heart that you always went out of your way to do things the way that he liked.
When he looked back at you, you were tucking a strand of hair back as you ate a spoonful. The longer he looked at you, the faster his heartbeat went, his body feeling hot right up to the tip of his ears. It was a weird feeling, but not foreign. Lately, it had been happening more often. He started seeing you in a different light, something other than a friend—not just any friend, but a childhood friend. He wasn't naive; he knew what crushes were, and he knew he had one on you.
It was a realization he had come across a few months ago when his family and yours went to the carnival over the summer and the two of you had gotten separated. He came home that day, heart tap dancing in his ribcage and a never-ending smile on his face from the way you jumped with excitement after you worked together to win the obviously rigged carnival games and winning a plushie.
Some part of him knew that. You liked him back as well; he hoped his brain wasn't playing tricks on him when he saw the way your eyes lit up after seeing him. The innocent friendship you two shared was morphing into something different—a good different.
That evening, while the two of you were walking home after the extra classes you had, the crisp evening air sent a tingle down his spine as he walked along the pavement, listening to whatever you were talking about and adding his own insights whenever he felt like it.
“Oh, hey, look! Tteokbokki!” You said excitedly, pointing to the food cart run by a middle-aged woman serving the steaming hot spicy rice cakes to a few customers. With a tug of his arm, you dragged him over and ordered one spicy one for both of you to share. He didn't like eating spice as much as you did, but he didn't want to say no to you. After a short debate, he used his birthday money to pay for the food, and the two of you walked along the riverside slowly as you ate.
“Mm, these are good,” you let out a satisfied hum and continued eating.
“They are,” he agreed. The spice was present at the back of his throat, but it was weirdly good after the oversweet cake he had during lunch.
“It tastes good after eating that sugar monster I made, right?” Seungmin turned his head to look at you. “What? Don't give me that look, that cake was so sweet, how did you even finish the whole thing? It tasted like I dumped a whole box of sugar in the batter.”
“True… But you made it, so I wanted to eat it,” he admitted, feeling his face flush lightly. If you teased him about it, he was going to brush it off and blame it on the tteokbokki, but your own cheeks mimicked his, tinging red at his sudden admission.
“Still,” you protested, “I'll have to make a better one that doesn't taste like cavities.”
“I like the oversweet one. Maybe I'm an extra sugar kinda person.”
"No, you're not.”
“It wasn't even that bad.”
“Now you're just lying.”
The two of you dissolved into laughter, finishing up the last of your food. The walk home continued in relative silence for a while, him mulling over his words and wondering if he made you uncomfortable because you were too quiet. Before he could make an apology, you spoke quietly.
“I'm glad you liked it, but I still wish I could've given you a better birthday present.”
He stared at the path in front of them, the streets lit up by lamps and porch lights. “You already gave me the perfect birthday present.”
You tilted your head to the side. “What?”
“You,” he blurted out, regretting his words the next second, but once he saw your flustered reaction, his nerves calmed a little. “Now let's go home and act surprised at whatever my parents planned.” You giggled in response and nodded, your footsteps falling in sync as you walked beside him.
“Happy birthday, Seungmin.”
“You said that like ten times today!”
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Ponyboy stands in front of the mirror, fifteen and one month old. His hair is longer than it used to be, and the still-blond tips brush his shoulders.
There are scissors in his hands.
"Glory, he looks different with his hair like that."
Ponyboy squeezes his eyes shut, hands gripping the sink for balance. The metal scissors clang against it.
"It used to look tuff. You and Soda had the coolest-lookin' hair in town."
He tries to imagine himself a year and a month ago. Squared off in the back, long at the front and sides. It looked real tuff.
He'd complained so much when he had to cut it off, making everything impossible for Johnny, and now he can't make himself bring it back to normal?
"Oh, come on, Ponyboy, it'll grow back."
It did. And now he doesn't know what to do with it.
"Oh shoot, it's just hair."
The front door slams open.
"Honey, I'm ho-ome!"
"I never shoulda showed you that," Steve grumbles
"Well, ya did, and now ya gotta deal with it." Ponyboy can hear the grin in Soda's voice.
Loud footsteps go into the kitchen.
"Hey, ain't Pony s'pposed to be home already?"
"Prolly is, just up in his room with a book. Wouldn’t notice a twister a foot away if he was reading."
Steve snorts. "You up for a game of cards?"
"Sure. I gotta go change first though."
"Ya mean you gotta go stick an ace in your shoe?"
"Somethin' like that."
Soda's voice trails away as he makes his way to his room, but Steve's has grown closer and closer, and Ponyboy knows he's going to see him and ask questions that he doesn't want to answer, but he can't move from where his hands still grip the sink, scissors trapped against it.
"Hey, kid." Ponyboy looks up and meets Steve's eyes through the mirror. He's standing in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, whole body tense with discomfort, his face drawn with the same worry that strings through his voice. "You want me to get Soda?"
Ponyboy shakes his head and tries to subtly wipe his eyes. It'd be a new low to cry in front of Steve.
Steve's eyes flicker from Ponyboy's face to the scissors in his hand and his ungreased hair. He grimaces when he notices the tears, like he's not sure what to do with them.
"You know, cutting it off don't mean you'll forget them. You've still got a lotta memories that ain't in your hair. Better ones, too."
Steve's tone is matter-of-fact, but soft, softer than it's ever been. To Ponyboy, at least.
Like how Dally's voice reached a high, pleading tone it'd never reached before when they were speeding down that dirt road.
"I know..." Ponyboy whispers, and Steve leans in to hear him better. "It's just the last thing I got from them."
"That ain't true," Steve says. "You got both of their jackets and that book y'all read in the church. You even got the pictures you drew of them."
"Yeah, I know. It just ain't the same." His voice still won't come out above a whisper, but Steve seems to hear him just fine.
"Shoot, kid, I know that." He steps forward and sits down on the closed toilet seat. "But you can't live your life for them. They're gone. And they ain't comin' back. If you wanna remember 'em the right way, you gotta forget them sometimes."
Ponyboy thinks about the last year. About his bookmark that's been on page 118 for five months because Johnny would never get to read any pages after. About all the movie posters he's seen come and go because it wouldn’t be the same to watch them without Johnny. About the blade that's always in his back pocket that he can't stand to look at. About the time he brawled with Curly and then started crying because Dally had been the one to teach him how to throw a punch.
About how every time he looks in the goddamn mirror, he gets scared by his own reflection and remembers the church.
Maybe Steve's right. Maybe if he wants to start living normally again, he needs to forget them sometimes.
"This just ain't us. It's like being in a Hallowe'en costume we can't get out of."
Johnny might never get out of his costume, but Ponyboy could. And he would do it. For Johnny. Because he wouldn’t want Ponyboy to live as a shell of who he once was.
But when he meets his own eyes in the mirror, he knows he can't bring himself to do it.
"Steve, you ever cut hair before?"
He looks up in surprise, and for a moment Ponyboy's scared he's going to laugh at him. Then he stands up and holds his hand out for the scissors.
"Can't imagine it's harder'n fixin' up a car."
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Regina George x Reader
Part 1/32 (yeah I know, right?)
Warnings: angst if you squint, name calling, suggestive wording
I wrote this a while ago, if you think I need to add anything else for this one, lmk!
Word count: 1,265
"What the hell are you doing on my ice, George? The hockey team already released the team list, we can't accept anyone else. Either way, we don't like drama."
"Actually, I'm not on the ice," Regina gives you a dirty look, pointing at the fact that she is right outside the ice, not on it, "and ew, this does not sound appealing. You look like a fridge wearing a knockoff dollar-store sports jersey. This also looks a bit rough." she makes a gesture at your outfit, and size.
Well, she was right. The school had a small budget for the women's team, and you tower over her. Your shoulder pads add to the size, you really are built like a fridge at the moment.
"Then what are you here for? To call me another slur?" You take your helmet off and lean your head down on your stick, smirking, "here for a good time?"
Regina fake gags, "Absolutely no. Gross. Quit speaking," she gives another dirty look, "I saw the poster that you needed a manager for the team. I can't play any sports and everything is so fucking lame. I can at least see fights here." She shrugs
"And why do you of all people want to be involved in anything that doesn't involve pretty pink glitter and being a massive bitch?" Putting emphasis in the 'B' in bitch, you poke Regina with your stick.
"If I didn't have to I wouldn't," she shoves the stick off of her shoulder, "but my therapist is making me. I can't let last year consume me, and I have to be helpful or whatever."
You look at the clock and put your helmet back on then glide across the ground, your skates leaving gashes in the ice. Regina stands by the opening into the rink, dumbfounded that someone had just walked away from her. The clock makes a loud buzzing noise and pucks fly into the net and scatter the ice around it.
"Well, George, you gotta work up the food chain here," you get a smug look on your face, "Practice is over! We don't have to get the pucks tonight. Our lovely new manager Miss Regina George will get it for us. Won't you?" you skate up to the blonde, whose eyes sit wide.
The team leaves to the locker room before leaving the building as Regina nods. She could not believe that someone had actually spoken to her like that. You ask her shoe size, go to the locker room, and come out with a pair of skates. They are blue and gold, and old. Like, really old looking. The blade is sharp but the leather is worn and creased. You intentionally grabbed the oldest pair that would fit her. Queen Bee George wouldn't own the ice like she did the rest of the school. You drop the skates in front of Regina.
"You expect me to know how the hell to put these on?"
"Are you ACTUALLY kidding me right now George?" You don't get an answer, so you sit down in front of Regina, "wow you aren't. I will do this one time, and one time only." You hold up a one on your hand and Regina nods.
You lace the skates while Regina complains about how tight they are, then you describe why they had to be so tight, she finds some way to complain about your reasoning too. You lead her on to the ice, she isn't an awful skater, although she falls once. You teach her how to collect the pucks by scooting the net around the ice, then take her to the locker room.
"I really need to get out of these clothes, but as the captain it's my job to tell you what your jobs are. So I hope you don't mind," You start taking off your jersey, "so basically you will make sure the locker room and ice stays clean. You'll scrape the ice, make sure it's clean and pretty, get our stuff on the bus for away games, basic shit." you peel the outer layers of your gear off.
"So I don't have to drive the zimbabwe or whatever?" Regina asks, relief washing over her as she looks at you.
"No you will not be driving a whole ass country, honey," You look dumbfounded, "The custodial staff or our coach are the only ones who operate the ZAMBONI. And quit looking. I can't tell if you're jealous or you want me." You smirk over at Regina as she quickly rotates her head away from your direction.
You finish changing, she glances over at you one more time while your back muscles flex, pulling a shirt over your head. You throw on a pair of faded jeans and a red flannel. You pull your phone out and hand it to Regina on the contacts page.
"This by no means is asking you to ever speak to me outside of anything hockey related, or even hockey related, actually. Never text me," you smile and take the phone back from Regina, "this is just so I can add you to the team group chat."
Regina is left speechless, she has never ever been disrespected like that.
"You literally just met me, what the fuck is your problem? I will not let my year be ruined by your rude ass." Regina scoffs.
"My problem, Regina, is that my name was in that little book of yours. Right next to the words 'body count higher than points scored' and 'hockey lez'," you sit and stare at Regina, "I do not want to talk to you outside of this sport, and I will talk to you as little as I can here. I appreciate that you are getting better and working on your behavior after last years events, but this does not change the fact that words are mean. It didn't hurt, but I don't make company with assholes."
You walk out to your car, a 2015 Subaru Forester. You don't notice Regina's highly recognizable Jeep in the parking lot, and see her walk out of the building. She keeps walking past the parking lot, sprinkles of rain splattering the ground around her. You are an asshole, but not that big of one. You speed out of the lot and pull up next to Regina, who is walking down the side walk with her hot pink hood over her head, and roll your window down.
"Why are you walking? It's raining and you have a nice Jeep. This is ridiculous George." You shout.
"I still don't trust myself driving alone after the accident in case my back locks up, I like the rain, I'm fine." Regina keeps her head forward.
"Are you sure? As captain it is my obligation to make sure everyone get's home safe."
"Oh my God, you have already said you hate me, would you MOVE ON you fucking lesbo." Regina yells.
"Great choice of words when you are trying to better yourself Regina." You clench your jaw, roll your window up, and speed off.
This was going to be one great year, you can just feel it.
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Small interaction idea I got for the Supersons (pre-Jon age up; I HATE THAT PART) soooo sorry if this is bad its my first official drabble post (did i use that term correctly???)
Based on this (one part blacked out bc idk how tumblr would take it)
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"Hey, Damian?" Jon spoke up, he and Damian lounging in Damian's room because— no offense to Clark, but Wayne Manor was cooler for sleepovers.
"Yes, Kent?" Damian huffed, focused on sharpening one of his many daggers. Despite the dynamic, the two were undeniable best friends. It was surprising at first, with Damian's blunt, down-to-earth personality with snap backs and insults that would make a grown man cry. Damian Wayne, best friends with a sunny, optimistic, 'blinding everyone with his smile' Jon Kent. But of course, the two didn't start out that way.
"Remember when you practically- no, you DID kidnap me after I accidentally.. killed a cat and a hawk?" Jon mumbled the last part, clearly still ashamed of it. He hadn't told Damian the whole story yet, despite how long it had been. Damian's eyebrows furrowed, and he got a little closer. He remembered those times, back before they were friends.
"Yes, I remember," he replied, his voice still firm as he inquired. "Why are you bringing that up again, Kent?" Damian — despite his almost inhuman abilities, talents, and feats — was still human, and still had the ability to forget things.
"..Nothing! It's just.. the cat. Goldie was her name. It's her deathday today." Jon frowned, having always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Jon couldn't help but mistake the sting building up in his eyes as the burning feeling of letting his heat vision go off and MURDER cremate the two innocent creatures on accident. It was only for a second, but Damian could see how Jon panicked in that little moment.
"And? Your point?" He said, his tone a surprisingly a tad bit softer than usual. He didn't really know what Jon was talking about. Really, he did remember kidnapping Jon because he didn't trust him. But to Damian? That was like another regular Tuesday for him.
"..I didn't mean to kill Goldie, or the hawk. I know you know that. But Goldie had escaped her house, and I was chasing her to get her back." Jon began to explain, and he wasn't as cheerful as he usually was. Not as he finally told Damian the full story. Jon couldn't help it. It had been at the very least a few years ago, but the horror Jon had felt that day was something Jon himself never forgot.
"..their bodies were charred and burning. Couldn't tell hawk from cat.. only Goldie's collar remained! I.." Jon had to go quiet to compose himself. His hands were actually shaking. Damian listened to the story. He knew something was wrong with Jon. He was not his usual cheerful, confident self.
Damian looked at Jon, his expression hard to read. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to comfort him. Damian was never good at comfort. He just sat back in silence for a while, processing what Jon had told him. Being from the League of Assassins, death was nothing new to him. Hell, he's killed animals on purpose for mission and training before he was taken to Wayne Manor. Whales and tigers and lions and eagles, on and on. It was a little hard to see from Jon's perspective, but Damian tried.
"..Y'know.. I don't think you remember what you said to me when I woke up after you kidnapped me. Hehe.." Jon let out a chuckle, smiling with his teeth to try and lighten his sadness with humor. "You told me.. 'You are a threat to every living thing on and off this planet.' And Damian, I know this is stupid, but.." Jon curled his knees to his chest, eyes on the blank screen as a movie they were watching played it's end credits.
"..I believed you. In a way.. I still do. I'm scared of myself, Dami." Jon admitted quietly before grinning and wiping his tears.
"But I guess that's pretty dumb, right?" Jon grinned widely. He was half-Kryptonian and his dad was Superman! He shouldn't cry, and he didn't have any reason to! He was growing up, and he should be more in control of his emotions.
Yet Jon had let his mind wander multiple times, whenever he passed by where it happened. It was ironic, but Jon couldn't help but be scared of himself. Yes, himself. He had the powers of Superman — the Man of Steel himself. And he was also a young boy who could be easily tricked and manipulated. Jon was strong and carefree, but he wasn't stupid. At least not all the time. Jon has witnessed some extremely traumatic events in his life. The possibility that he had the power to massacre entire cities — maybe states, countries, or eventually the world? That was something that made Jon want to lock himself up in a kryptonite cage and hide away.
Jon was afraid of his powers and the destruction they could bring. He was immune to fire, but still couldn't stop himself from imagining the burning, mangled, charred bodies of a hawk and a cat each time there was a fire that was large enough.
Damian clenched his jaw. He remembered that day. He remembered telling Jon that he was a threat. Listening to Jon talk about his fear of himself and his own powers made something inside of Damian ache. He didn't like it. Not one bit.
"It's not dumb," he said, his voice softer than usual. Damian didn't know why he was being so soft (he knew exactly why, but he didn't want to admit it. Not yet.). "And you're not a threat, Kent. You're not. You never were. You're the last person who's a threat to anything."
"That's EXACTLY why I'm a threat, Dames! I'm part Kryptonian!.. I'm invincible to most on Earth." Jon exclaimed, sighing. "I can still go rogue! Dad has gone rogue before. I don't.." Jon trailed off.
"Kent. If you think for a second I'd let you go rogue, just know my Father has plenty of Kryptonite stocked away that I would not hesitate to use." Damian narrowed his eyes, but not in an angry way. It was affectionate, though it would be hard to tell from an outsider's perspective. Jon, oddly enough, felt reassured. Reassured that if something goes wrong, that Damian would be there to stop him. He'd always be there to stop him.
"You promise, Dames?" Jon couldn't help but whisper.
"Yes, I promise. Now come on. Didn't you want to show me this movie called 'Legally Blonde' or something?" Damian rolled his eyes, but they still held that tinge of care. That hint of affection that was only reserved for Jon, and wasn't the type that Damian held for his family. No, Damian had a part of his heart specifically reserved for Jon Kent.
"Okay, good. Now come on, let's watch a pretty girl kick legal butt!" Jon grinned, ultimately feeling much better. He was so lucky to have Damian.
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AN: First post, not beta read and written in the dead of night lol. I do not write much. Romantic or platonic? Idk you choose :P
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:-P
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🧍♂️............................................................................................... alright man I'm just going to say it. I'm so hsrpilled that it's making me act out and draw fanart again. look forward to it or else ヾ( ̄▽ ̄)
^ that's a wip
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how planned and thought out do you think everything was when it came down to the setlists of 2023 and 2024 (thus far)?
the interview with patrick where he said “i want to play this song [headfirst slide] that we haven’t played in a long time, it’s still on my pedal and everything,” to fans rallying to convince fall out boy to play it by setting dates to increase stream counts at once and starting hashtags, then to pete saying at one of the pre-release shows “you said your faces would melt off if we played this,” to it becoming a setlist staple for two legs now. how much of that was planned, and how much of the abundance of additional deep cuts, demos, and even soul punk songs were part of that plan? or how much of it snowballed off that stab in the dark of “well, they said they wanted it, might as well give it a shot.”
on one hand, they are very methodical in what they do. but on the other hand, what’s not to say they finally saw what people really wanted - so much more beyond the hits + current album - and they felt so much love from the reaction of headfirst slide’s first play in over a decade that they said, “why not?” and spread the entire discography across the table, leaving no one out (except mania, rip).
in the likelihood that it was just something to say in passing to a question that is probably asked on the regular, and not an elaborate plan put into motion before the question was even asked, i think it did everyone wonders and showed love to everyone across the board. love to the fans. love to the songs. and love to the band.
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i hate that the solar eclipse just now serves as a reminder that nobody loves me.
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Do you still crochet plushies at all? Not to sell, just for fun.
Nope, not at all anymore :[
I even finally sold/donated/gave away all of my yarn in 2021
The last thing I crocheted was actually a blanket which was finished in early 2020 (and is on my bed currently, haha)
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all this talk of dashcon 10yrs anniversary and i cannot remember it happening at the time because 2014 was such an awful year for me, i spent most of it too constantly dissociated to remember anything
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time a flat circle why the hell am i usin the same loafers i bought for one cosplay of my fave antagonist for another fave antagonist
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imo everyone on earth should be talking about Him (don't want this showing up in the tag even though it's not a diss) but everytime i go to the tag and there's only like 3 new posts i'm like. oh yeah almost no one cares except me and like 5 other ppl on here
i ran out of tags KFHSJENNXN i don't think that's literally ever happened to me before anyways don't read them because it's just me being insane as per usual
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went to doctor and got a new prescription to go with an increased dose of the other one bc it all (the afflictions, horrors, etc) has not improved/has gotten a lil worse. but! i did actually go and arrive on time despite v deeply and strongly Not Wanting To so go me
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okay I LIED (sorta)
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