#because she’s seventeen and her biggest worry before the crash was not wanting to have sex with her boyfriend

[tentotea]

thinking about how jackie taylor’s biggest flaw is that she‘a a teenage girl

[kujo1597]

Oh geeze. I didn’t mean for it to take this long to do another one of these. I’ve actually been dealing with persistent vertigo for... over three weeks. Kind of made me not really want to spend too much time at the computer. (But for some reason it did make me finally get around to playing Cyber Shadow.) Don’t worry about the vertigo thing by the way, it’s likely due to lack of sleep.

Well anyway. Let’s pick up from where we left off.

Oh yeah, everything is on fire.

Everybody manages to evacuate the burning building but we see Ashley run off towards the inferno. After doing a quick head count Jerrica notices that Ashley was missing and then sees the girl running out the house while holding the Honor Jar.

Naturally Jerrica tells Ashley that she is worth more than all the money in the world.

The fire crew arrives and they put out the fire. Although there really wasn’t much house left to save.

Sooooo....

This bird is dead.

Poor thing.

We see everybody wrapped up in blankets sitting on their lawn before Rio shows up. After a hug he assures Jerrica that everything will be okay. So, I will say this here. In the early episodes of the show Rio is actually a very solid guy. I don’t really have a problem with him at this point. I’ll talk more about Rio and his evolution into my least favourite Jem character over the course of this series.

Let’s put the Rio ramble to the side for now.

The Misfits arrive at the scene shortly after him, I wonder if the fire was on the news, and Pizzazz and Roxy gawk at the fire, Stormer stares too but she really seems like she feels bad for the people who just lost their home. Pizzazz on the other hand says, “Couldn’t have happened to a better person” in a very uncaring way. Class act.

Deirdre being twelve and homeless asks Jerrica a very good question. Where are they going to live now?

Jerrica’s answer, Howard Sands’ mansion he’s put up as the winnings for the battle of the bands competition. She asks the girls if they want to help Jem and The Holograms put on a concert. And then Jerrica and her sisters load up in the Starlight Express and drive off to meet Synergy. Rio takes the children to Howard’s house in his van.

We get an exciting chase scene where the Misfits follow Jerrica and The Holograms and using Synergy to transform the car into a garbage bin they lose their rivals. But only temporarily as Stormer notices Rio’s van and they start to follow him.

Yep, totally inconspicuous. Good job Synergy. Well, to be fair, this is a drive-in theatre. But it’s also one that’s been shut down for years. Soooo... yeah.

After a quick change of clothes our titular band heads on over to Howard’s house that he lives in to wake him up with a concert.

To be honest, I’m not the biggest fan of this song. Can’t really put my finger on it. I think it goes on for too long. The songs in these first five episodes are a minute thirty long and get kind of repetitive. But later on when the songs are better written I'd love it if they were longer than a minute.

Anyway, Howard gets woken up by the impromptu concert and rushes out of his home to see why there are twelve kids on his lawn, seventeen if we’re considering Jerrica an older teen at this point in the series.

The Misfits climb out of their van and starting booing Jem and Pizzazz announces that they’re going to make trouble. Rio warns Jem who sneaks off to change into Jerrica. But Stormer is sent by Pizzazz to follow Jem around. Jem hides behind a bush and summons a hologram of Jem who just fucking, sprints towards the mansion. I wish I could make GIFs because she’s so fast! It’s awesome.

Meanwhile Kimber tells Howard that her sister will explain the situation.

Jerrica gets away from Stormer and joins up with everybody else who are arguing about the fact that one of the bands in the competition has just crashed Howard’s living quarters. Jerrica tells him about Starlight House burning down.

And we get another moment showing that Stormer might not be that bad of a person. She tears up while listening to the story. Roxy elbows her in the gut though putting a stop to it.

Naturally the Misfits oppose to the idea of Jerrica living in the winnings with all her children and Howard’s like, “I still own the mansion. I’m giving Jerrica the keys.” because he probably doesn’t want to leave sixteen or eighteen people without a place to live. I know I keep putting an emphasis on how many people lived in Starlight House but it’s an awful lot. It was a pretty big house though.

Anyway, Pizzazz hates this decision and pushes Howard into a pool, then Roxy steals a bulldozer and starts running things over. Then Jerrica tries pulling Howard out of the pool and ends up

flying like, ten feet through the air and into the path of a runaway bulldozer. I had to post the GIF because it’s just *chef’s kiss* So good.

Cut to commercial before we see Jerrica get plowed over.

Rio does save her though and they do a pretty good job of showing how in love they are. Like I said! Rio was perfectly fine in these episodes! They’re actually kind of sweet together.

Aja manages to leap into the bulldozer and turns it off before anything else could happen.

Then the Misfits speed off in their van and judging by the animation give Rio’s van a nice scrape.

Howard being understandably mad at them says that he’ll do what he can to help Jem and The Holograms. But if the Misfits do win the contest they do still get to keep the mansion.

Now we cut to Starlight Music where the Misfits are complaining to Eric and he tells them that he’s doing everything he can to keep them from getting sued by Howard.

They take this well and trash the office before going to the mansion. Meanwhile Eric phones Zipper and tells him he has another job to do.

Here’s our first look at the mansion Howard put up as a prize. It has a pool which takes away the sting of losing everything. I adore how Kimber is just as excited as the younger girls to look around their new home.

Rio buzzes in and tells Jerrica that he’s here with a camera crew for their magazine shoot for an article on up and coming rock groups. The crew comes into the courtyard and Zipper manages to sneak in before the gates close.

We see a scene inside the mansion where Ashley says to Lela and Becky that she shouldn’t still be held accountable for the money she stole from the Honor Jar because they’re now living in a home that isn’t falling apart. But she’s told that she still owes them money. And Ashley makes the point that she saved the Honor Jar from burning in the fire. But Lela tells her that doesn’t make up for stealing it. And honestly Lela, I think saving the couple hundred bucks in the jar does make up for stealing thirty. Ashley is understandably frustrated. She heads outside and sees an opportunity to make some money.

The Misfits are complaining about not being able to stay in the mansions and Pizzazz is saying how badly she wants through the gate. So Ashley tells them that she’ll let them in if they give her thirty bucks. Stormer ends up having to pay because she’s a bit of a pushover.

After Ashley runs off to open the gate we see Zipper sneak into a room.

Now we get a very fun music video. Click Clash which is performed by both of this season’s bands. I really like whenever they do this. The mix of musical styles is so interesting.

After the music video we see Zipper hide a bomb in the couch.

He’s very good at his job.

Eric arrives on the scene and warns Pizzazz and Roxy about the bomb. Not Stormer though, I guess she’s too nice for his liking.

Then the bomb goes off.

JESUS! I forgot about that! Let’s add this to our “Kimber almost dies horribly count.” Yeah it’s a recurring thing for my favourite character. Hm. Maybe that’s why I hit her with a car.

The police and press shortly arrive on the scene. They ask Eric how he knew about the bomb and he claims he got an anonymous phone call from a fan of Jem and The Holograms saying that they’re going to blow up the Misfits. Jem apologizes to Howard and he tells her that he doesn’t believe Eric’s story for even a minute.

As thanks Jem offers to help clean up the mess. And Rio runs up to the group asking where Jerrica is. One quick hologram of Jerrica waving from the top floor later and Rio is satisfied.

Then suddenly a blonde woman appears, she is Howard’s friend Countess Danielle Du Voisin, he introduces her to his new favourite band and she invites them over to a party on he yacht. Then after her invitation is enthusiastically accepted she bumps into the Misfits who are less than charming. And the countess tells them that they’re not invited. I wouldn’t be surprised if Howard told her about the mess they caused earlier in the morning.

Jem gets rid of the Misfits in a fun way by asking them to help clean up the rubble.

And then we cut to the yacht.

Everybody climbs onboard and frankly, Kimber is severely under dressed. I love the outfit but it’s not really one for a back tie party. Oh, and Rio says that he wishes Jerrica could have come along, Jem tells him that Jerrica asked her to show him a good time.

And now we see the party on the yacht. It’s full of movers and shakers in the entertainment industry. Including Lindsey Pierce who I’m quite fond of.

By the way, the music that’s playing makes me wonder about the production. I recognize it as a song from episode 9. So it must have been added in after they stitched together the shorts. I suppose it’s also possible that it was included with one of the Jem fashion dolls or a playset but I don’t recall “We Can Make a Difference” being included with anything. But I also haven’t looked up the entire list of cassettes. I wonder what was playing in the Super Sunday airing during this shot, if anything.

Back to the show. Lindsey introduces Jem to a cinematographer, Anthony Julian who Shana is very attracted to. So Jem played wingman and told Anthony that he should really be talking to Shana about the music video.

Then we cut to the Misfits sitting in a speedboat looking at the yacht and plotting to crash the party. As you do.

So, something interesting about Roxy here is that she has a heart tattoo near her armpit. That tattoo is the result of the person making the model sheet misreading the artwork Roxy’s outfit is based off of. There was a shape used to indicate shading but because the sketch was in black and white this shape was misinterpreted as a heart. So Roxy ended up with a tattoo. I honestly do kind of wish she got to keep it. Oh well.

Now we see some romance, Anthony’s talking to Shana and is shocked that her group doesn’t have any backing from a record company. And then we cut to Jem and Rio. I don’t know what exactly went through Jerrica’s mind here, but as Jem she asked Rio if he likes her. And Rio says that he hardly even knows her. Jem says that maybe she should tell Rio who she is and then leans in for a kiss.

And then cue The Misfits cackling and spraying seltzer on the upcoming love triangle involving two people.

They tear up the party and even cause a guy to get pied so hard he’s sent to the Shadow Realm.

The countess complains about their presence and the Misfits run off and enter the ship’s control room where they mess with some dials and send the yacht onto a crash course with a gigantic ship.

Well, this was episode 2 of Jem. Things really got crazy in this one. Somehow more crazy than a lantern causing a fire that engulfed fairly big house.

I actually don’t have too many final thoughts on the episode. It was just really fun. Jem’s a very fun show.

[itsmeevie01]

Bio!Dad Bruce Month Day 8- Driving!

Marinette smiled at her brother as he helped her unload her bags from the car. When he had called and asked if she wanted to come visit for a month, the fifteen-year-old had jumped at the chance to get out of Paris. When she had landed, the first thing she had done was take a deep breath and started to process everything that had happened over the school year. At the sound of Tim scrambling down to give her a hug, Marinette brought herself back to the present. The taller teen caught her up in a hug and she clung to him and giggled. When he put her down, Marinette turned at towards the sound of measured steps nearing the group. The boy approaching her scowled and crossed his arms. Marinette shook her head fondly at him and waved. 

She knew that Damien wasn’t her biggest fan, but she still tried her hardest to get along with the youngest in the family. While she had been greeting Damien, Cass had made her way over, and moved Tim out of the way. Once the girls had reunited, Marinette made to pick up her bags, only to have three sets of hands reach to stop her. With a huff, the noirette set her gaze on her younger brother. “Well, Damian, shall we?” the boy looked her over with sharp green eyes and nodded.

” Yes, sister, we shall.” The duo made their way up the drive to the manor, where Alfred was standing and watching them with a fond smile.

As they made their way closer, Marinette studied the butler. When she had, once, asked how long her had been taking care of the family, the man had smiled at her and simply said “A very long time now, Miss Marinette.” No matter who she asked, that was the clearest answer she could get.

Dick, Cass, and Tim soon followed, each carrying a bag. While Marinette had insisted that she didn’t need the extra bags, Dick had insisted that she pack an absurd amount of clothing. He had promised the extra bags would be paid for, and that was that. Marinette was not pleased, to say the least, but had reluctantly agree to her brother’s wishes.

At dinner that evening, Marinette was surprised to be greeted by Jason plopping down across form her. When she cast an uncertain glance at the chair that belonged to Bruce, Jason smirked. “B had to leave the country for something and took Duke with him. Suddenly, I had an open invitation to the manor again.” At her unimpressed response the young adult grinned. “I can’t wait to raise hell while mi here.” At Jason’s proclamation, Dick cleared his throat.

“actually, you won’t be raising hell, because none of us are going to be here.” At the looks of shock that were flooding the table, Dick smirked. “The reason we are all here is…DRUM ROLL PLEASE” Tim rolled his eyes but obliged the oldest, “we are going on a family vacation!” Damien groaned and Cass smiled.

“Dam it Dick, really?” came from Tim, while Jason shook his head in disbelief. Marinette, on the other hand blinked in confusion.

“what…what do you mean, a vacation? Is that why you had me pack an absurd amount of stuff?”

“Correct! And we are going to have so! Much! Fun!” At Dick’s excitement, Tim rolled his eyes and leaned over to whisper to Marinette

“how likely is it that someone is in the emergency room by the end of the first week?” She shook her head in response,

“that’s not even worth betting over.” Tim huffed at the ease she had used to cut off his train of thought.

“50 bucks say we are taking a plane.”

“I say were carpooling. Dick would see it as family bonding.”

“done. When your handing over the money, just remember to be thankful that we aren’t cooped up in tin cans with the rest of the hoard for weeks on end.”

“and when you hand over your money, make sure we are in the same car. I want a little bit of sanity on this trip.” The teens shook on their bet and turned to see the rest of the family looking at them, obviously wondering what exactly had taken place. Marinette flashed a smile at them, “sorry, did you need something?”

The next morning when Dick went around knocking on doors and waking up the family, only two went left unopened. When he bounded into the kitchen however, he found two pairs of blue eyes watching him from the table, coffee mugs in hand. He shook his head and moved to pour a bowl of cereal. When he turned back towards the table, he found them still looking at him. “yes?” it seemed that his question was all that was needed to prompt them.

“where are we going?” Tim started them off.

“it’s a surprise”

“when do we leave?” Marinette cut in before he had time to finish talking.

“two hours. Alfred packed everyone’s bags on the sly.”

“how long is the trip?” Marinette again.

“a few weeks. Why? Afraid you’ll miss Gotham?”

“when is our flight?” Tim, who was asking with quite a lot of hope

“who said anything about a flight?”

“shit.” At Tim’s face, Dick looked surprised. Marinette however, looked practically gleeful.

“looks like I won that bet! Hand it over, brother.” The pain on the seventeen-year-olds face was laughable.

“but- “

“Tim! 50. Dollars.”

“he hasn’t said we are taking the cars yet!”

“its implied, you genius. Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!” Tim halfheartedly glared at her as he handed over a crisp $50 and returned to his coffee. Before Dick could ask any more questions, Jason and Cass mad their presence know, while Damian followed a few minutes later.

When Alfred had helped Dick usher the rest of the family over to two cars, he turned to face them with a big smile. While they jostled each other, Steph climbed out of her car and hurried over, looking very pleased with herself. She paused by one of the cars and deposited her bag before joining them.

“alright, now that everyone is here, lets get started. We have two cars and will be rotating through drivers. Sorry, Damian and Net, you two are forbidden form touching the wheel. Now, I have decided on our seating arrangements already. Jason, Tim, and Ste- “

“and Little Bit. Marinette rides with us.” Dick blinked at the interruption and tried to protest only to see the other three nodding at Tim’s proclamation. He sighed.

“fine. Damian, Cass. You two will ride with me. If something comes up, we’ll rearrange. Now, today we are going to make it our goal to get closer to the middle of the country. After that, we will re-evaluate and pick a destination. Load up!”

The first four hours were fine. No, they were more than fine. Then, Jason got bored and started to play music to get on the other’s nerves. When he got banished to the back, Stephanie pounced at the chance to move up front and keep Tim company. In theory, it was a good idea. That is, until the blonde demanded that they stop every half hour for food. After the third pitstop, Tim moved her stuff in the back and kidnapped Marinette’s phone. When the others reconvened, there was a slight scuffle before they realized that Tim had made the call. Since neither of the others wanted to drive, Marinette happily settled into the passenger seat. The next three hours when by quickly. By the time Tim pulled over for gas, Jason and Steph had fallen asleep. While he took care of the car, Marinette slipped into the convince store and restocked on snacks and drinks. Tim grinned at her collection that she hauled out. “magnum bars? Really?”

“yup. Best ice cream you can find.” He snorted at her,

“maybe out here in the middle of nowhere. When we get home, remind me to take you for the good stuff.” The girl rolled her eyes and plopped back into her seat.

“let’s go, before Dick thinks we died.”

 The next morning, when they all piled back into the cars, the other car called. After a loud…conversation, they settled on working towards St. Louis, and going from there. Once the groups were well and truly on the road again, Jason started them on games. First was truth or dare. After that was never have I ever, food edition. (A/N-when my friends car trip, we play this. Instead of a shot, you eat. That’s all.) after the four had exhausted all of their tame, non-hero topics, the Gotamites started to slip some of their exploits that Marinette Was Not Supposed to Know About into the game. Once they had gotten as far as they could without revealing their secret identities as the Vigilante Bats of Gotham, they moved on to telling embarrassing stories. After lunch, where they stopped and switched drivers, Tim and Marinette got into a debate over a shared book series, while Jason and Steph played loud music and sang off key up front. After dinner, when they switched back, Jason and Steph once again fell asleep.

Two hours out from St. Louis, Tim turned to his little sister. “Hey Little Bit, how would you like to drive for a bit? I know you have your permit.” Marinette threw a glance over her shoulder and grinned at him.

“are you sure? Dad won’t ride with me when I drive. He says I’m worse than Jason.” Tim sniggered at the face she made while imitating their father.

“as long as we don’t die permanently, we should be fine. Its late enough that you should be ok to drive.” The smile she shot his way made Tim decide immediately that whatever happened during the next two hours, he would do the best he could to let her drive again.

 An hour and a half, Tim wasn’t sure if he was right to give the keys to his sister. Somehow, they had beat Dick to the hotel. As Jason and Steph yawned and stretched, the other two made their way towards their hotel for the night. When Dick pulled up 45 minutes later, they had made their way inside, and Jason and Steph had already crashed in their respective rooms. Marinette was sitting in the room she was sharing with Cass while chatting with Tim, who looked a little pale. When Dick stopped by to gather the keys for the room he was sharing with Damian, he shot his brother a worried look.

The next morning, when Dick admitted that it would probably be good to switch up the cars, Jason and Steph jumped at the chance to switch cars. In return, Cass joined the other teens. Without the presence of anyone top pretend at being an adult, the three were able to mess around. When they checked their GPS, the group realized they not only had they been speeding, but they were quite far further than they had planned for lunch. After looking up the nearest food, Tim turned to Marinette and held out the keys. When Cass realized what was going on, she sniggered. That evening, the trio beat the others by over an hour. When asked, they all shrugged and said that they were just having fun.

Two weeks later, after the siblings had returned to the manor, Tim offered to bring Marinette with him while he ran into WE to pick up some paperwork. When the girl had nodded, her brother had grinned and tossed her the keys. At Dick’s shocked splutter, Tim turned and raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“what? Little Bit knows how to drive.” Dick shook his head fervently.

“Tim no! B said that Net was Not to Touch the Keys Unless It Was an Emergency!” Tim sniggered, and Cass who had been listening to their interaction, rolled her eyes. At Dick’s offended look, she looked to Tim. He sighed.

“Dick, she drove for as much of our trip as I did. Plus, I promised her ice cream.”

 Dick Grayson’s shouting that followed the duo as they sped out of the drive could be heard echoing for miles, but neither sibling cared.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Chapter 14 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter fourteen 

~|Charlie Gillespie|~

Life is good on the other side of Hollywood. The song really does stick. Life with Emily has definitely changed me for the better. I feel like I’m soaring on clouds every time I’m around her or even think of her. And my songwriting has gotten better too. “Where have you been?” My mother’s bone-chilling angry voice greets me when I enter the kitchen. “You’ve been out nearly every night of the week, not returning until late.” This is not going to be a fun conversation. “I was rehearsing with the boys, ma,” I say as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, hoping to escape this talking-to quickly. “Again? What about school, Charlie?!” “I did that before I left for rehearsals,” I lie. Why would anyone work for school when there are no tests this week? That’s just working for nothing. This whole school-thing is a waste of time when you think about it. I want to be a Rockstar, get Sunset Curve famous. “You don’t think I would actually believe that, right?!” Her voice rises with the second. “Believe what you want, mom. There’s nothing going on this week anyway.” I probably should not have said that because mom’s expression changes from angry to furious. “That’s no reason not to work for it, Charles Gillespie!” The full name takes me back to Emily calling me Charles and it’s enough for my brain to give my lips permission to curl up. “You think this is funny, do you?” The smile vanishes as soon as it came. “No, mom! But I got this, okay? This is my life and I’ve got control over it, okay? You have to let me live my life, mom!” The screaming match lures my father into the kitchen as well. “What’s going on here?” he asks, clearly annoyed we’d disturbed his favorite show. “Your son over here thinks he has control over his life and doesn’t need to work for school anymore,” mom explains, the volume of her voice goes down, but the anger’s still there. “I mean, he’s seventeen, honey…” At least dad understands me, “He’s going to learn how to live life by making mistakes, you got to let him make them.” “You’re seriously going to take his side right now?!” The volume raises again. “Mom! This has nothing to do with taking sides! If you didn’t breathe on my neck like you always do, you would know how amazing the band is doing and that I have an amazing girlfriend! But all you care about is controlling my life!” I freeze when I realize what I’d just yelled at my mother. “Just let me live!” “You’re seventeen, Charlie! You don’t know what you’re doing with your life!” At least she’s not reacting to my girlfriend-news I’d just blurted out to them. If she ever talks shit about Emily, I swear to God, it won’t be their finest day. “No, I don’t! But that’s normal, okay?! I want to figure out life by myself, with my band, with my girlfriend. So, stay out of it!” I push past her and dad, grab my backpack and leave the house again, cycling to Jeremy’s garage again. I know I’m always welcome to crash there after a fight with my parents. Owen and Jeremy are both still in the garage, cleaning up, chatting. When they see me, their grinning faces fade into worried glances. They already know what’s going on. I drop my backpack on the floor and plop down next to Owen onto the couch. “You okay, man?” Owen asks. “Yeah, just my parents being controlling again, you know?” He offers me a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Jere, do you mind me crashing here tonight?” “You can stay as long as you want,” he replies with a smile. “Thanks, man.” “I’m staying the night too,” Owen tells me, “Parents still aren’t talking to me.” “How long since you came out to them?” I can feel my heart breaking at the thought of Owen just being himself and completely being obliterated by his parents, the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally. “About a year…” Heart shattered. “At least I still got Luka.” I smile as I think about Owen’s sister. In 6th grade, she used to babysit us, even though we thought we were old enough to stay home alone. But Luka actually was the best babysitter ever. And I can’t deny I had a little crush on her at one point. It did blow over when she ditched us one time to go on a date. Besides being the greatest babysitter ever, she’s also been a great sport in Owen’s coming out. She was the first one he told besides us. Not only that, she’s also the biggest Sunset Curve fan. “How is Luka?” I ask, which earns me a sharp glare from Owen. “I’m just curious.” “She’s navigating college, so home isn’t where I want to be at the moment.” “Right, must be tough for her too,” Jeremy chimes in. “Yeah, must be tough having your parents worry about your every move.” I note the sarcasm in his voice and offer him a sympathetic smile, hoping that’ll help somewhat. I also feel slightly attacked by his comment. “Hey, at least we’ve got each other,” I tell him, patting his shoulder.   “And us is all we need,” Owen agrees with a small smile shining through. “And Emily!” Jeremy’s mention of Emily simply makes me smile again. Even the mention of her name makes me smile. I guess that does show how whipped I am for this girl. I wish I could tell her though. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Both Owen and Jeremy nod their heads, agreeing with me. “You’re so in love with her, bro,” Owen says. “Have you taken her on a date yet?” Jeremy wants to know. “No, not really. Unless you count sorting invoices at the Music Store or secret make-out sessions on her balcony?” They now shake their heads in response. “Why don’t you take her out on a date? Cute little picknick? Movie?” Owen suggests. “Yeah, if you want, you can take her here, we’ll set up like a projector and a screen, decorate with Christmas lights, and buy some food.” I stare at Jeremy for a little longer than I’d like. Did that really come out of his mouth? That’s a decent idea for once. “I don’t know if she likes romantic gestures like that though?” I manage to bring out once I’ve recomposed myself. “What girl wouldn’t like watching a movie on a big screen with her boyfriend, eating food, surrounded by pretty lights?” Owen reasons. That’s a good point. “Will you guys help me set up though?” They nod in response, and we get to work straight away. Jeremy goes inside to grab the projector and a large white sheet we hang up in the garage while Owen and I go on the hunt for the Christmas lights. According to Jeremy, we’d find in the attic. “Have you told Emily about us yet?” Owen asks me when we’re in the attic by ourselves, searching for the box with the decorations. I look up at him for a second before turning to a cardboard box to my right. “Uhm, no… I’m not sure how to tell her I used to date my bandmate?” “Emily’s cool, man. Her favorite uncle was gay and now she lives with his husband and they both know I’m gay, but she never treated me any differently.” “Yeah, but isn’t there a difference between being friends with a gay person and dating a pansexual person?” Owen shrugs whilst fishing a bundle of fairy lights out of a box. “It’s both very queer. I’m sure she’d be cool with it.” “I’ll see what subjects we’ll talk about tomorrow. Might tell her if it comes up.” “Good call, man.” I take a few more bundles of string lights and join Owen downstairs. While Jeremy hangs the white sheet and installs the projector, Owen and I decorate the place with all the Christmas lights we found. Warm whites, cold whites, and colorful ones. It serves for a fairytale looking glow throughout the entire garage. “Why didn’t we do this earlier?” I ask, admiring our work. “It really does give it a more calming atmosphere, doesn’t it?” Jeremy agrees. “Okay, I set up the projector, you just got to plug in a laptop and you’re good to stream your favorite or most romantic movies.” I pat him on the back, offering him a thankful smile. “Thanks, Jere. This was an amazing idea.” “Emily’s going to love it,” says Owen whilst looking up at the lights surrounding us. “Let’s go to sleep now and after school tomorrow, we’ll go shopping for food and set it all up for both of you to enjoy.” Jeremy’s almost giddy with excitement. It really is adorable. Jeremy hands Owen and I a sleeping bag and takes one for himself too. The three of us are used to sleeping on the floor of the garage. Many nights were spent like this ever since Middle School whether it was for sleepovers or when either Owen or I had problems at home. Jeremy often asked us to come over if he’d had a bad day too. Just fun little sleepovers between three best buddies. And they really are the best.

“Won’t be at the Music Store tonight. Find me at Jeremy’s garage to find out why. Wear something comfortable x” I send Emily the text after school just before the boys and I go grocery shopping in Jeremy’s fridge. He did ask his mom to buy a few extra snacks and things, saying it was for rehearsals. I’m glad he didn’t tell her about Emily and me yet. “Okay, we’re all done here!” Jeremy exclaims excitedly, looking at the finished product. My heart is beating faster and faster, scared Emily won’t like it, scared she doesn’t feel the same. “Hey, guys!” Emily’s voice startles me, and all three of us turn around to see her enter the garage. “What’s going o—” she freezes in place, noticing the fairy lights and the big screen. “Wha—” She looks adorable with her eyes bulging out and her mouth agape. I’m frozen for a moment. My feet don’t want to move even when I tell them to. “Charlie said you guys never had a proper date,” Owen springs into action, stepping forward and taking Emily’s hand, “So, we kind of put something together for you guys.” He leads her towards me. I doubt she’s even listening to what Owen’s saying as she’s still gazing around in surprise. “Hope you guys enjoy!” The two dip out of the garage, leaving Emily and me by ourselves. I let her take in the sight for a moment before grabbing her hand and leading her towards the mountain of pillows and blankets. “Charlie…” she breathes out, “This is beautiful.” She sits down while I go to the laptop to pick out a movie, settling on Aladdin since she made a comment about it the other day. I then hand her a glass of orange juice and place the snack platter between us whilst sitting down. “I wanted to do something special for you,” I tell her and clink my glass against hers. “Do you like it?” She nods her head vigorously. “I love it!” She leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Who’s idea was it to do the cinema and the fairy lights?” “Surprisingly, Jeremy’s,” Emily’s eyes widen in surprise. “Yeah, I was shocked too.” “Such a surprising guy, that one.” I nod in agreement. “Let’s watch the movie, shall we?” Emily nods her head and we settle into the cushions. At first, we just sit shoulder to shoulder until she starts fidgeting. “Not comfortable yet?” “I can’t find the right way,” she chuckles, crossing her legs. “Come here,” I open one arm as I lean into the cushions behind me. Her cheeks flush pink as she leans in and rests her head on my shoulder. “Better?” I drop my arm around her shoulders, pressing her closer to me. “Much better,” she mumbles. I’m pretty sure she can hear my heart beating quicker, especially when she puts her arm across my stomach. “Can I confess something?” she asks around halfway into the movie. I look down at her, finding her staring at me, and nod. “I totally watched Aladdin with Uncle Mitch yesterday because it reminded me of you.” I can’t help the smile on my face at how endearing she sounds right now. “I picked it for today because it reminded me of you too.” Emily chuckles slightly and sits up straight to take another sip of her orange juice. “You want to watch something else?” She shakes her head. “Let’s just talk for a while?” I agree, but I can’t help to feel nervous. “I feel like I don’t know that much about you yet, but I somehow feel like I’ve known you for years, you know?” “Yeah, I totally feel the same,” I confess, “Don’t people play that Twenty-Questions game on the first date?” She takes a piece of cheese and pops it into her mouth. “Yeah,” she says after swallowing, “That’s a good idea! I’ll start!” She presses her lips together and looks up at the ceiling, seemingly thinking of a good question to ask. “A simple one; what’s your favorite color?” The color of your eyes. “Uhm… blue, I think? Yours?” “Yellow! It’s a happy color,” she gives me the cutest smile I ever did see. “Your turn!” “Uhm… Do you have siblings?” “Nope, only child over here.” I raise my hand for a high five, saying, “Same, girl!” and she slaps her hand one mine excitedly. “What’s one secret you’re still keeping from your mom?” Her question stumps me. Not that I don’t know the answer, because I do. The nerves just suddenly settle in. She’ll be cool. “That I dated Owen for about a month last year and that I’m pansexual.” Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Pansexual is the attraction to people regardless of their gender, right? Just so I got it right.” “Yes, exactly,” I gaze at her, awaiting her response of running out of the garage and never coming back, but she stays put. “How was it dating Owen?” She asks instead. “Not great. I mean, Owen was a great guy and we had good moments together, his parents just… never really accepted his sexuality. They still don’t, so being with him was a little rough. We broke up because we realized it didn’t really fit, I guess? With his parents and the band and stuff…” “How did you start dating?” Our game of twenty questions has become a little one sided and about one topic in particular. “He’d just told his parents and they got into a fight, so he came here. Jeremy wasn’t here yet, but I was since I’d run away from my parents too after a fight. He had a panic attack, so to stop him from panicking, I kind of kissed him?” She smiles an endearing smile. “But it’s my turn to ask a question now!” “Right, sorry!” “If you ever got trapped on a deserted island with one friend, who would you choose?” I ask, hoping to be rid of all the questions about me and Owen. Though I love the fact she didn’t up and run. She stuck around and is actually interested to know more about my past relationships and my sexuality. She would only ask if interested. “Madi, probably. I—” she cuts herself off, her eyes widening as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh my God. Oh. My. God!” She scurries off the ground and grabs her backpack quickly. “Madi asked me to hang out tonight after my shift and I told her it was okay since we didn’t plan any band practices! I totally forgot! She’s going to kill me!” She fishes her phone out of her backpack and quickly types in a message while I get up from my spot. “I’m so sorry, Charlie!” She gives me an apologetic look. “It’s okay! We’ll do this over one day. Go to Madi!” A relieved smile cracks through right before she grabs my face and kisses me on the lips. Just a quick, passionate peck, and off she goes, leaving me a little woozy from the electricity that just zipped from her lips to mine and through my entire body. An amazing girl, that one.

Taglist: @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @hannahhistorian92​ @gingerxarmy​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @lovesanimals​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @calamitykaty​ Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

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Until Tomorrow | Part two

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You’re a happily single magazine editor in London, that is, until you’re set up with a handsome musician, who’s not exactly forthcoming about being in the biggest boy group in the world. But with your days together numbered, will this blossom into something more or crash land, leaving your heart broken.

Genre: Idol!au / Fluff / Romance / Comedy / Slight hint of smut 

Rating: 15+ (sfw)

Warnings: Mentions of sex and sexual activity / Kissing

Word Count: 6413

Part one | Part two Notes: Beta reader @ditttiii​ Thank you so much for your help, you are such a queen! 

I knock lightly against the boss’ door and wait. 

Janelle Rogers is the editor-in-chief for our magazine, she’s brilliant but also a bit eccentric. She always has some kind of wacky blazer on and yet, somehow always manages to look professional. She’s also the messiest person I know, resulting in her desk always being untidy, but she claims it to be organised chaos instead.

Who am I to argue with that kind of logic? 

She’s tough and a lot of her employees are terrified of her, but if you work hard and do a good job she usually notices and shows her appreciation in some way, which makes her quite pleasant to work for. 

I get on with her well on a personal level too. We’ve been out to dinner a few times and it’s always fun. It also always turns into a late night drinking session. Going out with her, usually means I am in for a two day hangover, which is why it doesn’t happen all that often.

“Come in!” She calls.

Swinging open the door, I step in. 

Janelle is pacing back and forth, phone tucked under her ear, as she searches through the papers in her hand. Hearing me enter, she looks up and removes the phone from her ear, before she says, “Y/n, I heard you wanted to speak to me, please come in. I won’t be long.” 

She indicates to the empty seats across from her desk. 

I sit down and cross one leg over the other, trying not to listen to the heated discussion she’s having. 

“I appreciate that I do, but I need that piece before the end of the week.” She says, her tone clipped. I see her jaw tense as she grits her teeth to whatever response she gets. “And I understand that, nonetheless, you’ve had plenty of time to figure it out. Your story needs to be in by the end of the week, otherwise I’ll use someone else’s. End of discussion.”

She hangs up the phone, almost slamming it back down onto the base unit and sighs. 

Sitting down, elbows on her desk, she gives me her full attention. “Some people will use any excuse to avoid a deadline.” She shakes her head and then meets my eyes. “Please tell me you’re here to give me some good news.”

I grimace slightly. “Well the magazine is on track...mostly. The music segment however…” I pause. “It’s unfinished.”

Her face drops. “What?” She mutters, her voice low, brimming with anger. “What do you mean, it’s not finished?”

“Only half of it is complete.” 

She slams her hand on her desk. “God Dammit, Toby.” She runs her hands over her hair, smoothing her tight, black curls. 

Toby was one of our writers, mostly for the music assignments. He did interviews with the artists, went to gigs, reviewed albums but recently had gone on a holiday for some kind of meditation retreat. ‘No phones permitted and no contact from the outside world’ kind of place, not my type of holiday but who am I to judge?

“Can’t we just use one of our other music pieces?” I ask, knowing the answer before she gets the chance to respond.

“No, we need that segment. Our sales were up last month because we featured that story about the k-pop group selling out Wembley, now we need to report what the shows were like.” She sits back in her chair. “BTS are very current, it’s what we need. They’re our ticket to the younger generation buying our magazine.”

“Well, that’s why it’s not finished, the concerts are this weekend and Toby’s obviously not going to be here for them. He didn’t seem to have tickets for them either.”

She lets out a long, drawn out breath. “Ok, well we need to get our hands on a ticket.”

I put my hands up to stop her. “I’ve already got people on it but I need another writer to rewrite the segment.”

She nods. “Toby won’t like it but that’s not my problem. I’ll get George on it.” She picks up the phone and within seconds it’s all arranged and passed over. 

I stand and make my way to the door.

“Y/n?” She calls as I open the door to make my exit. I turn back to her. “Good work, keep me posted, we need this story.”

I give her a sharp nod, not sure how possible it will be to achieve this but of course I’ll try my hardest to make it happen.

I head back to my desk, sending more emails and making more calls, when my personal phone vibrates against the wood. I glance down at the screen and my stomach flips when I see who the message is from.

Taehyung [14.09]: So, how’s your day going?

A wide grin spreads across my face. He’s thinking about me. My chest swells at that thought alone and I type a quick reply and press send.

Y/n [14.10]: So far? It’s a day from hell. What about yours?

His reply is  immediate.

Taehyung [14.11]: 😥 I don't like to hear that. My day is fine. Will be better later, hopefully I can cheer you up...If you’re still free?

I smile at my phone. I couldn’t wait to get out of here and meet him. It’s the only thing keeping me going through all of this work, knowing that he would be there at the end of it. And clearly he was looking forward to seeing me too; my ego was quite inflated. 

Y/n [14.11]: Of course, can’t wait. What time?

I put my phone down and carry on clicking through my emails, relieved to discover that I’ve sent and replied to all I needed to, for now at least. I decide to take a much needed break. I put my earphones in and shuffle my Spotify playlist of metal and rock songs that I had put together and turn the volume up to as loud as it can go. 

The ear buds thrum inside my ears as they blare out classic 80’s rock sounds with ‘Pour some sugar on me’ and I lose myself in Def Leppard. Turning in my seat, I look out of my office window. 

The landscape of London is truly something to marvel at, and I would never tire of this view. The way the entire city reflected in the windows of the high-rise buildings, the way the sun bounced off the river and the classic style of our oldest landmarks. London is a remarkable place. 

I sigh and put my feet up on the low window ledge, crossing my ankles. My phone vibrates in my lap and I smile as I see his name on my screen, reading the message.

Taehyung [14.21]: I’ll be working for a while, is 7 too late for you?

I sigh, I had another early start tomorrow but I can’t pass up the chance to go on a date with the only guy I've been interested in for two years. Who knows how long he’ll be over here for? I can deal with being tired for a few days.

Y/n [14.22]: I can make an exception for you. Let me send you the address.

I sent him the link with all the info of Yoshi’s restaurant. If he was anything like me, he’d be looking over the menu and planning his meal.

Taehyung [14.25]: Then I am flattered. See you there :)

I grin at my phone like an idiot. God, how old was I? I’m sitting here embarrassing myself, acting like a seventeen year old love sick teenager over a guy I barely know. 

I kept picturing his face, his smile, the way he raises an eyebrow so seductively, or the way he runs a hand through his dark brown hair. I’m not sure if my memory of him does him justice. 

I pause my playlist and quickly dial Yoshi’s number, waiting for him to pick up.

“Yo! What’s happening, jelly bean?” His usually cheerful voice rings out.

“I’m wondering something?” I ask hesitantly.

“Wondering...if I’m as good in the sack as people say? Why yes, I am.” He quips.

I roll my eyes. “No one says that and I would never be wondering that.” 

His laugh vibrates my ear. “Your loss. So what are you wondering then?”

“Well, do you have a table for two for tonight at seven?” I bite my lip, waiting for the response.

“If the table’s for you, for sure! Who you bringing with you this time? Taylor?” He asks, mentioning one of my oldest and closest friends who has been with me to his restaurant many times.

I hesitate. “...No. I’m bringing a...date, actually?” I hold my breath as I wait for his reaction.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!” He exclaims, so loud I have to quickly turn the call volume down before he deafens me. “Hold up, you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me! Who is it? How did you meet? It’s the tourist guy you bumped into, isn’t it? I told you y/n, I told you he thought it was a date.” He bombards me, laughing out of excitement.

“Actually,” I cut in, “It’s not him.” I hear the groan of disappointment on the other end. “It’s his friend.” I laugh.

“Well damn girlfriend! I’m impressed. I can’t wait to hear more about this. Your table will be ready at seven, don’t worry, I got you.” 

I smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. And Yoyo?”

“Yea?” He waits, the grin in his voice audible.

“Please, nothing embarrassing.” I practically whine.

He gasps. “Would I ever?” He pauses. “On second thoughts, don’t answer that. Heart crossed and hope to die, I shall be on my best behaviour.”

My shoulders relax a little. “Thank you. See you later.”

I hang up and remove my earphones, releasing a long, slow breath. That didn’t go as badly as I had imagined it would, he let me off surprisingly easy. Maybe going there tonight won’t be as mortifying as I’m imagining.

My work phone rings and I push the thoughts of Taehyung and tonight’s date out of my head and get back to work.

The afternoon goes slow, my eyes constantly finding the clock to see how much time has passed; counting down the hours till I could leave and meet him. 

I wade through my workload; like trudging through mud. I haven’t had any luck with finding a ticket to the BTS concert at the weekend. Any hope I did have was fading fast, well aware of the fact that I was running out of time. I had 3 days until the concert took place, I couldn’t give up; my boss wouldn’t allow it. 

I work past my usual time, wanting to get as much as I can done today, so it might allow me some more freedom for the rest of the week.

At six o’clock I am strutting out the door, after touching up my make-up and fluffing my hair in the washroom. I had decided to take the underground to ride the few stops to the restaurant. Once out of the stuffy tube station, I send a message to Taehyung letting him know that I’m walking from the station and will be there shortly. The text I get back however, has me practically running to the doors of the restaurant.

Taehyung [18.47]: I’m inside :)

My heart drops. But surely Yoshi wouldn’t have any idea who my date was or what he looked like, so Taehyung should be safe.

I yank open the heavy, double doors frantically searching for him. When my eyes finally find him, I gulp. Him and Yoshi are both sitting at a table, deep in conversation. I quickly rush over, interrupting them.

“Taehyung, I see you’ve met my friend, Yoshi.” I smile nervously, as they both stand up to greet me.

Yoshi gets there first, pulling me into a tight hug and squeezing me hard. I pat him on the back. “Ok, I tap out.” I wheeze,and he releases me. “Try to not injure me before my date, will you?” 

He laughs. “Introductions have already been made, so you don’t need to worry. I was just filling  Taehyung in here, about some of our adventures.” He winks.

I scowl at him. “Ok, ok, enough embarrassing stories.” I take my bag from my shoulder and put it with my blazer onto the far side of the seat in the booth. 

Yoshi grins. “Ok, I’ll leave you to it. Taehyung, very nice to meet you. Someone will be over soon to take your order. Enjoy guys!” He says with another wink, before he quickly proceeds to leave us alone.

We both stand there smiling at each other before I lean in, kissing him on the cheek. I linger there for a moment but I stiffen when I feel his breath at my ear. 

“Nice to see you again.” He greets softly. His deep voice like silk, doing things to my body I didn’t expect. 

I pull away, blushing slightly. “Shall we?” I indicate to the seats in the booth. He nods and we slide in. 

One of the best things here was the decor, it gave us a lot more privacy than other places I’ve been to. The booths had partition doors which I could close completely or leave open slightly. The partitions behind our seats were completely covered with painted japanese murals and there were beautiful, pink blossoms hanging from the ceiling.

“Were you here very long?” I ask, trying to gauge how much time they would have had to speak to each other.

He shakes his head. “Long enough to hear how you met each other and the story about the time you spilt a drink in your lap at a theme park and he told everyone you walked passed, that you had wet yourself.”

I laugh and roll my eyes at the memory. “That’s Yoshi for you. Never passes up the chance to embarrass me.”

Taehyung smiles. “He also said some very nice things about you.”

“That is good to hear but he has to, he knows I’d bully him otherwise.” 

He laughs at that. “You two seem very close.”

I nod. “We are. He’s been my best friend for a long time.”

“It’s good to have someone like that.”

I nod again, agreeing. “Do you have a best friend?”

He smiles. “Yes, his name’s Jimin.”

“And would he embarrass you like Yoshi does to me?”

He shakes his head, then leans in closer. “Worse, much worse.”

I chuckle. “Well in that case, I hope I get to meet him one day.” I reply, a smirk playing across my lips. 

He fights his smile. “Perhaps you will soon.”

I raise an eyebrow at him quizzically. “Is he over here also?”

He nods slowly. “Yep and yes, he’s another musician.”

He answers my unasked question and I lean back in my seat, surprise evident on my face. “Really? I’m guessing you still don't want to tell me about your job?”

I notice a flicker of sadness flash in his eyes, before they look down and away from my questioning gaze. I feel immediate guilt in my gut. “Hey, it’s ok, you don’t have to tell me anything, you just seem quite secretive about it. I was saying it more as an observation.” I reassure.

He looks up, eyes wide, “I’m not secretive!” He exclaims, shocked. “I want to tell you but—”

“Hey,” I cut him off, “No need to explain. Don’t worry, you can tell me whenever you’re ready.” I give him a reassuring smile and a gentle pat on the hand he had placed above the table.

I see him stiffen for a moment and my response is to do the same, until he turns his hand over, so we're palm to palm and gives it a little squeeze. His shoulders relax and so do mine, even though my heart hammers wildly with excitement. I can feel my palm starting to sweat the longer his touch lingers on me, it feels like a lifetime before he finally lets go and pulls his hand away. 

I can breathe and think straight again.

While I was more than happy to wait for him to tell me about his work, I found myself growing increasingly curious about the subject. He’s so mysterious, I can’t understand why he won't talk about it. I would assume that being a musician would be a  cool profession to divulge about,  most would probably gush till their heart's content, given the opportunity. 

But, in a way I’m glad he’s not like that, I don’t think I would be able to  stand the egotistical bragging.

“Can I take your drink order?” A sweet voice asks, stepping in between the sliding doors. I look up and recognise the server as Emiko. She’s worked here for a while now, and is always pleasant

“Oh, hi y/n! So nice to see you.” She beams her usual toothy grin.

“Nice to see you! How have you been?” I ask.

“I’ve been good!.” She giggles. “I won’t disturb you too much, what can I get you two?”

I order a lemonade and Taehyung orders a coke. I did contemplate an alcoholic beverage, but I don’t want to be the only one drinking on a date, that’s how I'm sure to embarrass myself.

I pick up the menu and skim through it, even though I'm sure I know it by heart by now. 

Glancing up as he too studies the menu, my eyes rake over his broad shoulders, the light beige shirt he wears falls flatteringly over his broad chest, clinging to all the right places. His black cap conceals his hair, but I can tell it’s all swept back off of his forehead. I watch the way he juts his jaw to the side as he mulls over what to order. His tongue dances across the inside of his lips, my eyes trained on it, mind drifting off again to wondering how soft his lips would feel. How that tongue would feel moving against mine...or other places. He looks up at me and instantly a flush of red travels up his neck. 

“What?” He asks quietly, giving me a bashful smile.

“Nothing,” I look back down at my menu, feeling flustered myself. “What are you going to order?” 

“Hm, maybe the Yakitori chicken skewers, any recommendations? Yoshi told me you’ve tried everything on the menu.”

I laugh. “That is true; I'm a big fan of his cooking. And yes, you should get that, it’s—,” I give a kiss to the tips of my fingers, chef style. 

He laughs and leans back in his seat. “So tell me, why was your day so awful?” He frowns, genuine concern on his brow.

I roll my eyes and groan. “Work is a joke at the moment, I’m covering for someone so I have twice the usual work load and that’s not even the worst of it.”

Emiko returns with our drinks, interrupting me. I pause as we order our meals and some sushi to share, then she leaves in a rush.

He raises his eyebrows at me and leans his chin on the palm of his hand, listening intently and waiting for me to continue. 

“Ok, so, my boss is hellbent on this particular story. The writer of said story has gone off on an unreachable holiday and it's only half done. So, now I have to try and get a ticket for a show that is apparently so high in demand, it seems impossible, so we can finish said story.”

He frowns. “I’m confused. What’s the story?”

I sigh as I fiddle with my napkin. “About some boy group and their shows at wembley.” I have a realisation then. “You’ve probably heard of them? BTS? They’re from South Korea too.” I’m not sure but for a brief moment I think I see him stiffen out the corner of my eye. His expression unreadable. 

“Yes, I’ve heard of them.” He says, nonchalantly. 

“You don’t like them?” I ask, wondering why his face suddenly looked so solemn. “Don’t tell me they’re your musical rivals?” I tease attempting to lighten his mood.

He smiles and some of the tension seems to leave his body. “No. They’re cool. So why do you need a ticket?”

“So the writer can review the show and tell the readers all about it. Our boss is trying to appeal to the younger readers and she’s convinced this is the way to do it, through this group.”

“What will happen if you can’t get the ticket?” He asks, eyes wide with worry.

I shrug. “My boss will be very, very pissed. I don’t plan on finding out though. I’ve got a few more days, it always works out in the end, one way or another.”

He watches me carefully. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

I grin as our meals arrive, steaming hot and smelling incredible. We eat in silence for a while, enjoying the taste. I watch as the noises and faces Taehyung pulls assure me of the fact that he’s very impressed and my chest swells with pride for my friend. 

I do, however, let my mind wander into thinking about hearing those noises of appreciation in other aspects. Like me...on my knees...underneath this table. Snapping myself out of less than innocent thoughts, I focus on my meal. 

Why couldn’t I control myself? Why did everything about him appeal to me in such a powerful way? Is it because I haven’t had sex for over a year? Or is it simply that he is just the perfect specimen of a man? Maybe both.

“That was amazing. I’m blown away.” He sat back in his seat, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 

“I’m glad you liked it! Yoshi will be thrilled.” I beam and take a long drink of my cold lemonade, hoping it cools the heat inside me. I could feel tiny beads of sweat forming down my back and along the nape of my neck. 

We sit and talk until Emiko returns to clear our plates and Taehyung asks for the check. 

“I’m afraid, I cannot stay out late with you tonight.” He says solemnly.

I try to ignore the disappointment I feel; not ready for this date to be over. “Ah, that’s ok, I know you’re busy.”

He shakes his head and puts his hand on top of mine, leaning forward. I mirror him automatically. The warmth of his palm slowly flows through me and my eyes can’t help but float down to our touching skin. His hand feels soft and yet strong with his long, delicate fingers enveloping mine. I look back up to his intense eyes blazing into mine.

“It’s not that, It’s just—” He pauses looking away, my stomach drops as I’m left wondering as to what on earth he’s going to say. He doesn’t want to see me any more? He’s not attracted to me? He sees me more as a friend? What excuse is it going to be this time?

“...I turn into a pumpkin at midnight.” He says, his face so serious it takes me a few moments to register the words that have just left his mouth. Relief swamps me as I feel myself relax back into my seat and laughter vibrate through my body. He joins me, his boxy grin spread across his face but as he does, he lifts my hand, turning it over and laces his fingers through mine. 

My laughter fades, and I look down at our entwined fingers. Normally, an action like this so soon after meeting would have me running for the hills, but with him, it just felt...right.

“Is this ok?” He asks hesitantly, a crimson shadow forming on his cheeks.

I nod and swallow; my mouth suddenly dry. “Yes.” I reply simply, frozen in shock.

He relaxes a little and leans forward on his elbows, his thumb gently tracing small circles on the back of my hand.

“I should go back to my hotel…”

“But?” I query.

He side smiles, looking up at me seductively through long lashes and the sight is enough to make my belly clench. “I really don’t want to.”

My heart knocks violently against my ribcage at his admission. “I don’t want you to either.” I blurt out, surprising myself.

His eyes widen slightly before he side-smiles again and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad it’s not just me. I cannot tell what you think about me.”

I let out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Is it not obvious?” I raise an eyebrow, surely he must be joking. I have never been so red, flustered and embarrassed with a guy in my whole laugh.

He shakes his head. “Not really, sometimes I think I know where your head is and yet at other times it’s hard to read you. I wish I knew what you were thinking.”

It's almost a question; giving me the option not to feel obliged to answer, but I don’t want to leave him hanging and wondering. Maybe laying my cards out on the table wouldn’t be such a bad thing, before I get in too deep.

I lean on my elbows that rest on the table and angle myself towards him slightly. “Ok, just so you know where my head is at…” I shift slightly under his now intense stare, as he hangs on my words. “I like spending time with you, and even though we’ve only just met...I feel I’ve known you for a long time, which is rare for me, to have such a sudden connection. I find you insanely attractive that it’s hard to think straight when I’m around you.” He beams at that and a deep crimson glow burns his face. 

“We seem to have a lot in common and I’m definitely enjoying our time together and getting to know you. You have an air of mystery about you and to be honest, it just makes me more intrigued to find out more about you. Since I met you at the museum, you have been on my mind more than I was expecting and this…” I lift up our joined hands. “would have frightened me to the point of running and hiding, if it was with anyone but you.” I say, quite fast, the words leaving me in a rush, as the urgency of having to say them takes hold of me. 

I exhale and hesitantly meet his stare.

His boxy grin is wider than ever as his eyes sparkle with excitement. I find myself mirroring his smile.

“I’ve got to admit, I was not expecting that but a part of me was hoping you felt that way.” He beams. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can completely be myself, no personas, no hiding, just me. I’m not too experienced in matters of the heart and this is a first for me; feeling this way. You’re so beautiful that it’s distracting especially because I find you fascinating and I want to know every little thing about you. Every story, every thought, everything but when you talk or smile, I can’t help but want to kiss you.” He stops, leaving that last part hanging heavy in the air.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips while he watches me. My stomach tightens with anticipation, hoping he will, waiting for him to lean in and do it. I stare at his mouth, heart beating so hard that it’s all I can hear pounding in my ears. 

He leans forward until he’s just inches from my face, his scent swirling around me, his soft, plump lips inviting me, calling to me, when the screen doors to our booth open abruptly. 

Taehyung is back against his seat in a flash, his hand no longer touching me and I suddenly feel cold without his skin against mine. 

My head snaps up, only to be met with Yoshi’s grinning face.

“Hey guys, I hope you were happy with your meals?” He asked, eyes eager for approval, completely oblivious to the moment he just disturbed.

I slump back in my seat. “Perfect as always, Yoyo.” I smile, trying to hide the disappointment that swells inside me.

“Yes, it was amazing. I will definitely be returning before the end of my trip.” Taehyung says softly, offering a bow of his head.

Yoshi slaps him on the back, the action making Taehyung’s eyes pop with surprise and I muffle a laugh behind my hand.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate that. You’re welcome here anytime, just drop by and I'll make sure you’re taken care of.” 

Taehyung smiles and nods. “That’s very kind of you, thank you.” 

“Here’s your bill.” He places the little, leather book with the paper inside on the table. “Well, I’ll let you two love birds get back to your date, we have a ‘no fondling, foreplay or sexual activity’ rule here though, so be sure to take that outside if the mood strikes.” 

My icy glare burns into him as he grins and closes the doors before I can throw something at him. I hear his laughter and his footsteps as he leaves.

I look over at Taehyung who is fighting a laugh himself. 

“Don’t you start.” I warn, resisting the smile that twitches the corner of my mouth. 

He laughs out loud. “I love it when you scold me.”

I shake my head at him, feigning shock and unable to hide my amusement anymore. “You’re not supposed to enjoy it.”

He shrugs and gives me a bashful grin, then checks his phone and groans. “I really do have to go. I’m really sorry.” 

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s fine.” I grab my bag as he glances at the bill. 

“I’m getting this, no arguments.” He says sternly. I smirk at the authority in his tone, wondering if he’s that commanding in bed too. Mind out of the gutter.

He places his cash down with a very generous tip, that has my eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

I grab my blazer and slide out of the booth. “Lets go.”

I lead the way over to Yoshi, who is busy entertaining the customers sitting around the counter where he cooks and chats away. I wave to get his attention.

“We’re off Yoshi!” I call out. 

He nods, drops everything and rushes around to us. He pulls me into a quick, tight hug and before he’s even let me go he’s reaching around to shake Taehyung’s hand. I squeeze out of his grip and return to Taehyung’s side.

“Nice to meet you, man.” Yoshi waves.

“You too, thank you again.” Taehyung replies.

“My pleasure. Call me later, doll.” He points gun fingers at me and waves as he returns to his station. 

We head to the doors, opening them to the heavy, night air; warmth swirling around me in a complete contrast to inside. I hear Yoshi’s voice behind me call out. “Use protection!”

I put my middle finger up behind me without even looking in his direction. His laugh bellows out before the doors shut behind us. God, I really hated him sometimes. 

We walk to the car that had arrived to pick up Taehyung, the driver waiting patiently behind the wheel. 

“Jump in and we’ll drop you off.” He said, opening the door for me. 

I slid in across the comfy, fabric seats. Taehyung spoke to the driver then climbed in next to me. I was surprised to see the black partition between us and the driver and the small, dark curtains covering all the windows. I’ve never seen a car with these before, how odd.

My thoughts are interrupted by his hand on mine, the heat from his soft skin, searing through me. I look over to find he’s watching me from the corner of his eye, he gives me a side smile and I thread my fingers through his.

“You know, Yoshi did say something before you came in…” He says into the quiet. 

My stomach drops, nervous with apprehension. “What?”

“He...mentioned your ex.”

I felt a small flare of anger course through me. How dare he speak to Taehyung about him. Why bring up my past with someone I might have a future with? I let out a long breath. “What did he say?”

Taehyung looks hesitant. “Not much, honestly. Just said you dated a real arsehole, who broke your heart in the worst way. Then you came in, he didn’t get to finish.”

Thank god. This was my business to talk about, not Yoshi’s. I nod slowly.

“I think...” Taehyung cuts in quickly, worrying he’s upset me. “I think he was warning me not to hurt you, that’s why he brought it up.”

That was probably the case but I’m still pissed off at him. “That does sound like Yoshi.” I reply, quietly.

“And while I would like to hear about your past, including past relationships, I will wait until you’re ready to talk.”

I nod again, mulling that over. “Tomorrow. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, if you want to hear it.”

He squeezes my hand. “Only if you’re sure.”

I smile at him, my anger slowly extinguishing, not wanting to ruin the moment with Taehyung because of something Yoshi said.

“Do you get a lunch break at work?” He asks, randomly into the silence, breaking any tension left.

I nod and my brow furrows. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“I have a packed schedule tomorrow evening, so I cannot see you but I need to.” He hits me with that intense stare again. If I weren't already sitting, my knees would be trembling trying to hold me upright. “Are you free to meet me on your lunch break?” His pleading eyes melt my insides.

I feel heat race from my chest to my cheeks as my blush spreads. “For you? Of course.”

He smiles, genuine excitement in his eyes and he looks down at our joined hands. Sitting this close to him, arms and thighs almost touching, so close and yet, so far. The urge to shift closer to him is almost overwhelming but for some reason I resist. There’s an invisible current I can feel from his body to mine, almost electric, sending tingles through my body.

“Taehyung, we’re here.” A voice sounds out from a speaker somewhere making me jump and interrupting my thoughts. I realise then, the car has stopped, too focused on the sheer magnetism I could feel towards him.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.” He climbs out, hand only leaving mine for a second before he’s grasping it again to gently pull me out the car. He leads me up the steps to my door and when I turn to him to say goodnight, we’re suddenly face to face, inches apart. 

My heart knocks rapidly against my ribcage, even as my lungs seem to stop working and my breath stills. His hand comes up to push the hair off my shoulder and I feel him linger on my neck. Warm, long fingers slide up to hold each side of my face, as he tilts his head and suddenly, before I can think, his lips are on mine. Gentle, soft and magical. 

My senses go crazy for a moment, overloaded with stimulation before I reciprocate eagerly. The taste of him like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, I want more. 

He pulls away suddenly, still close enough for me to feel his harsh breathing against my face. 

“Sorry, I should have asked first.” He says breathlessly.

My core is on fire, I feel ready to explode as I grab his light shirt by the collar and pull him against my lips again. My hands find their way to his neck, as I grip to keep him close to me and yet it’s not close enough. His hands wind around my waist holding me tight against his body. Heat and fire replace my thoughts, as I can only focus on my erratic heartbeat and the painful throbbing between my legs as his perfect, angular lips dance with mine. 

He breaks away to breath, sending a trial of kisses across my cheek to my ear.

“Until tomorrow.” He whispers breathlessly, before gently releasing me and taking a step back. He captures my hand, brings my fingers up to his lips, like he did that first night and places a gentle lingering kiss against them.Then he’s turning abruptly, dashing down the stairs and into the car. 

I stand there, dazed. Wow. Did that just happen? 

I fumble with my handbag, my head feeling fuzzy and unable to control the rest of my body.

I eventually find my keys and clumsily let myself in, walking through my apartment in a trance. I mechanically get ready for bed, my body on autopilot while I replay the kiss over and over in my mind, unable to think of anything else. As I lay in bed, my phone vibrates against the top of my nightstand, pulling me out of my Taehyung daydream.

Taehyung [22.30]: Made it back in time, no pumpkins here—

I laugh. Attached to the message is a close up photo of him laying down in bed, resting on an arm, his almost ebony eyes wearing a smile and staring straight through the phone into me. He looks gorgeous. Did I just kiss him? How on earth did that happen? 

My grin starts to hurt my cheeks but I can’t seem to stop it. I try to force it into just a regular smile, nothing too over the top or creepy, I fluff my hair out on the pillow and take a mirroring selfie, hitting send after.

Y/n [22.32]: Good to know, none here either 😊

Taehyung [22.33]: Haha! Good. I’ll let you get some rest, see you tomorrow lunch time. Goodnight! 😉

I reply, wishing him a goodnight in return, just before my eyelids finally start to droop. As I drift off to sleep I replay the images of his lips moulded on mine, my fingers in his hair and his warm hands on my face, hoping he will appear in my dreams tonight.

Thank you so much for reading, if you could leave me some feedback it would be much appreciate, even if it’s just a little comment to tell me what you thought 🖤

[a9saga]

when my maternal grandfather died six months ago i made a long rambling about how everything in my life since ninth grade just went full circle and i meant it. i ended up being okay, and i knew i would, but that was all very intensely crashing over me at once.

my grandmother died this morning. other side, my dad’s mother. it was okay, she was safe, she was being taken care of and she was with her children and her husband. i’d only heard she went into hospice yesterday, she couldn’t have been in there for more than a day.

if you know me well enough that i’ve ever talked to you about my family, you might remember i really love my sweet and beautiful little irish grandmother. i do. or even if you follow my blog, she’s made several mentions in my own posts over the years. she’s my biggest role model. i could go on for days. simply put, every trait of mine that i most like about myself is something i’ve had in common with her. and she loved me for the same things i loved in her, i think.

that last sentence is the only reflection i’ve realized upon finally losing her. i only realized that one when my dad pointed it out last night. i was mumbling on my whole spiel about how much i love my grandmother i knew i would be losing within the next day, you know the one i largely skipped in this post because i would have gone on for too long. my dad said that i also brought her so much joy, that she also thought that i was sweet, and beautiful, and it lit her up to see me, etc etc etc.

i’d not thought of that as much. the last many times i saw her, her memory was so far gone she didn’t know who i was or who my mother was. she would generally recognize my dad and she would ask him if he was married and if he had kids. that’d happen every few minutes whenever we’d see her, that she would be going over the list of basic questions. she wanted to enjoy everyone’s presence, and to some extent she did, but it was so hard for her to genuinely partake.

connie was in there somewhere but she was a shell of herself. over the past year, especially in the past four months, it was apparent she was getting exponentially closer to the end.

i always knew she’d be the hardest to lose. i’ve been afraid of it forever. and i think she will be. i have two grandparents left but i just. i just know this one. and it feels only reinforced by my feeling that her death doesn’t change anything.

i have realized nothing new from this. there’s no circle encompassing this moment in my life. at this time i think more constantly what i have always thought of her. i am just devastated to be without her. in place of piecing together what she meant to me, since i was already well aware of that all my life, i am thinking more of how she was years ago. i am not realizing. i am remembering. what i remember is what i’ve thought much less about for a while, because i’ve only been so worried about her now for at least 4 years. at least. and that’s only been my major concerns.

but if there was someone who deserved this soon, it was her. in some respects, for a while i’d felt like i lost her already, such as the fact that she didn’t constantly remember and understand anyone but her husband. she was so weak recently. she just needed to rest.

if you were wondering, she would have turned 91 if she made it to the end of this month. i will be okay, again. i keep tearing up every few minutes thinking about her. it doesn’t last long but it recurs a lot. i don’t feel the disbelief i did with my grandfather’s death. i simply feel awful.

with my grandfather, even in recent months there have been tears, bad dreams, and recently at work an old man came in who looked and moved and talked very much like my grandfather had since his first battle with his brain tumor. those make me sad but much of the time now i just remember that he’s actually gone, not out of sight, out of mind. i’ve made my peace, it’s just more like i largely don’t buy it. he’s not dead, i just haven’t seen him in a while. that’s how it feels and i just remind myself that it’s not true.

well i don’t know that i will think of connie like that in six months. because frank, her husband of 68 years, is going to be alone and no one can bear the thought of how scary that is. he doesn’t know life like this. so if you’re the praying type, please utter his name for me. he’s a very strong man, but he’s very old.

i wanted to say one last thing. remember when i said seventeen was once again comforting me when my grandfather died? well i’ve been listening to cnblue today. i don’t know why. i will not sit here and tell you my cnblue story (although one day i mean to bc oh boy) but i was a fan of them years before i got into kpop, when i was 13. it was the summer before eighth grade. i actually know like, none of their work that they put out after i was 13. i was mostly into their japanese stuff, their korean singles back then were so much more poppy and colorful and i liked them but not as much. i still kind of feel that way. you know what song of theirs i was kinda iffy about liking as much as i did? love girl. oh my god. for the record they dropped that song and album on my 12th birthday, which inherently cursed them (nothing good ever happened while i was 12). i was too not-like-other-girls to deal with the one video of theirs that went too far in making it clear that the boys in this band were cute (ugh). but now i’m listening to that song a lot in particular because it makes me feel very light and pink and warm and homey and to put it simply it fills me with a comfort that i think i need after losing my feminine hero. that doesn’t make any sense but i feel it. i’ve not actually played anything since i started typing this so i’m gonna go back to that now.

ps: any friends or mutuals, if we talk lots or little or we haven’t in a while, are welcome to send me literally whatever. if it’s related to this, unrelated, or whatever, if you are thinking of reaching out to say something i am going to appreciate anything. you can send kind words or a meme or cute animals or a song rec. i will say that i’m going to be quiet for the time being so i may not reply back very quickly. i’m not ignoring you i’m just taking space. i may be like this for a little bit. but if you actually read all of this, thank you. thank you so much.

[riverboundao3ff]

Riverbound, Chapter 17

All in all, Lanque’s a whole lot calmer about the whole thing than you thought he’d be, which makes you feel better about going to him right away instead of Daraya. Of course you love Daraya, but knowing the kid she’d probably run off to start a fight with Bronya, Lynera, and any other poor bastard who gets in her way.

“I want to believe Bronya’s doing this because she thinks she’s in the right, but I just can’t… augh! I just… can’t believe she’d ask me to do something like that.” You conclude your messy rant by flopping down on the carpet. There’s a dull ache in your skull from either exhaustion or anxiety, possibly both.

Lanque’s looking down at you from the loveseat in the corner like the universe’s most judgemental therapist, sprawled across the whole thing with his gangly self. “You haven’t known her nearly as long as I have. You heard me say once that she’s the craziest bitch in the whole cloister. I meant it.”

You want to argue with him; Bronya isn’t crazy, just a control freak, but that’s gonna have to be a discussion for another time. “You’re not surprised at all by this? Not even a little?”

“Not surprised. Just… disappointed.”

“What, does she make you to sleep at certain times and check your palmhusk, too?” you joke.

“Not anymore, she doesn’t. She learned her lesson after I filled my whole camera roll with the spiciest nudes you can imagine.”

You try not to imagine anything of the sort and fail miserably. Your last brain cell hangs on for dear life. “So, uh… w-what should I tell her the next time we go out?”

“Tell her that I’ve been taking Daraya to a slam poetry club. We’ve actually done poetry in the past, so it’s not like you’ll be lying,” he says with a smirk. “You should come sometime. Talk to people about all sorts of controversial alien opinions. Maybe throw in some rhymes while you’re at it.”

“Alright,” you agree.

“... Darling?”

“Yes, babe?”

“Don’t breathe a word of this to Daraya. She’s stressed out enough as it is.”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

:::

The next night you spend with Polypa, vandalizing stuff with the Heiress’s face on it and even setting a billboard on fire. It’s a lot of fun, but between vandalizations you can’t stop yourself from thinking about the girl herself. From what you can tell she’d be around seventeen in human years, which meant she’d soon have to challenge the Empress, as all the Heiresses before her did.

Some teenagers like to play video games, some like to sing or dance or do sports; you even know a few who live all by themselves on an island in the middle of the ocean who can shoot guns better than most military personnel. But not Trizza Tethis. No, she’ll be off to duel for the throne… and her life.

In your hearts of hearts you know that Tethis is a monster. There’s no doubt about it. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s still just a kid, a kid who is going to be murdered soon for the crime of reaching adulthood.

It makes your heart hurt just thinking about that, and all of the other girls that came before her, and if this rebellion goes to shit all the girls who will come after her.

“Hey, Polypa?” you ask.

“Yeah?” She’s hanging upside-down on some broken piping while spraying THE REVOLUTION IS HERE on the side of a post office. You’re being a good moirail and keeping watch for anybody who might see her, even though it’s dark out and you can’t see much past the street lights lining the sidewalk. For some reason she refuses to tell you, she’s been in a mood ever since she came back from Tegiri’s, but you’re patient. You can wait for her.

“Do you ever wonder if Trizza might have been a good person if Alternia wasn’t the way it is?”

Polypa stops what she’s doing and stares down at you. “Honestly? I don’t really care how she might have turned out if things were different. All the things I’ve seen her do, the shit I’ve heard her say on social media… I just can’t bring myself to believe anything other than she’s one of the most horrible Heiresses Alternia’s ever had and that she deserves to die. Slowly and painfully, that is. And then she deserves to be forgotten.”

“That’s fair,” you tell her. “I dunno, I just kept thinking about how she’s supposed to go off and duel the Empress soon, and that she’s definitely not gonna win, because none of the fuschias who went up against her ever did.”

“... Does that make you sad?”

“It makes me sad that a kid is going to die, yes.”

She huffs. “Save your sympathy. She doesn’t deserve it.”

“Can trolls control who they sympathize with?”

“Of course we can. Can’t humans?”

You laugh. “No. Or at least I can’t. Empathy’s a blessing and a curse.”

Polypa chucks her spray-paint can into the nearby dumpster. “Empathy? Isn’t that like, feeling what other people are feeling? I thought that was just a myth.”

“Some humans can feel the emotions of others. I’ve always been able to.”

“That sucks.”

“Again, it’s a blessing and a curse.”

Polypa shudders, flips upright, and then drops down to the concrete. “If you say so. C’mon, let’s scram.”

You scram, or at least you try to before somebody bumps into you hard enough to nearly knock you over.

“Watch it!” Polypa hisses from somewhere behind you.

You look up at a boft looking (buff plus soft) rustblood guy, who flinches back when he accidentally looks you in the eye. “Sorry! Sorry. Bye.”

He shuffles off down the street, shoulders hunched in like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible even though he’s easily the biggest rust you’ve ever seen. Huh.

“Well, that was weird,” you say, and then you feel something crinkle in the hood of your jacket. Cautiously, you reach up and grab it, hoping that he didn’t just put a bomb on you or something. You aren’t that worried about dying, because you know your immortal ass is coming right on back, but if Polypa’s in the blast zone--

“It’s a piece of paper,” she says.

“Oh, yay. I thought it might be a bomb.”

“Definitely not a bomb.”

The paper’s been folded several times, so you smooth it out and read the letters that have been cut out and glued out in a note, like some kind of Nancy Drew shit.

“What the…” You read the message, and then you read it again, once, twice, thrice, four times before Polypa starts swatting at you and grabbing for the paper. You hand it over and stare out across the street.

You are not alone. Tomorrow at midnight.

“I’m texting the others,” Polypa mutters, shoving the paper into her pocket and whipping out her palmhusk.

“There’s more of us,” you whisper. “That’s what it means, right? We’re not the only faction out there fighting for-!”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, let’s not believe anything that some stranger wrote down on a piece of paper and shoved into your hoodie--”

“But he came to me, Polypa--”

“Hey!”

Both of you turn around to see some cerulean girl you don’t know storming across the street to you. “The fuck you think you gutterbloods are doing, huh?”

“The revolution is here, bitch,” you tell her, and you grab Polypa’s sleeve and zap away.

Polypa does not hesitate to smack you upside the head the second you two appear on the roof of some building downtown. “The hell was that? She just saw an alien and an oliveblood teleport out of an alley with fresh graffiti on the post office!”

“Who’s gonna believe her?” you snort.

“She’s a cerulean, she’ll make somebody believe her.”

“Dude. Chill. We still have time before things get crazy.”

“Apparently not! Tomorrow at midnight--”

“I know! Isn’t it great? What if it’s like, a big post on Chittr, or a public service announcement from God knows where saying that it’s time for bigots to start shitting their pants, because the revolution is here and it is sexy!”

“Augh!” Polypa throws up her hands. You start to get a little concerned. “Aren’t you scared? Like, at all? We could all die tomorrow and you’re just… totally fine! You disappear for half a sweep and come back ready to lead a revolution!”

Alright, it’s time to bring out the big guns. Slowly, so she has time to pull away if she wants, you step forward and reach up to caress her cheek.

The effect is instantaneous. She visibly loosens up from horns to toes, leaning forward into the contact with a low chirrup rising up from deep in her throat. If you were a troll, that sound would have probably made you pale-horny to the max, but you’re human so all you do is just stand up on your tippy-toes to press your foreheads together. You imagine pulling away all of her fear and stress and releasing it into the open sky, never to be seen again.

“We’re not going to die,” you tell her. “We’re just not. And if we were, I’d tell you, because dying isn’t that bad. Doesn’t even hurt, really.”

“... You’ve been dead before?”

“Yeah. Feels like the best fucking nap you’ve ever taken.”

She snorts hard enough for you to feel her breath across your face. “Only you would say something like that and be completely unbothered.”

“That’s just how it be sometimes,” you say, because joking about your trauma and having anxiety are basically your only two personality traits nowadays.

“I’ll write that down for the pile,” she says, because she’s always been able to see right through you, even when you can’t see yourself. “Which we’re going back to an abandoned apartment building to do once I yeet this glass bottle into that window over there.”

She picks up the broken glass bottle at your feet and proceeds to do just that. It sails through the air with all the majesty of an eagle and crashes through somebody’s office window. You know enough about troll romance by now to be a little scandalized by how forward she’s being, but you both know it’s out of necessity. Troll language is far from just verbal-- it’s flattened ears or bared fangs or dilated pupils. It’s hissing and chirping and growling and all sorts of sounds you don’t even know the names for, and you can’t even hear most of them because they’re either too low or too high a pitch for your human ears to catch.

“Hot damn, wildcat. You gonna take me out to dinner before you throw me down on somebody’s abandoned loungeplank?” you tease. Her face lights up in green, and you grin in satisfaction as she splutters something about saving it for the respiteblock.

You’re about to cook up something truly slutty to say when her palmhusk vibrates. Polypa reads it and snorts. “Aaaannnddd Daraya is losing her mind, Tagora says it’s a trap, Tyzias wants to know what the rustblood looked like, Stelsa is in agreement with Tagora, Lanque is asking how the hell it could be a trap when the rustblood didn’t even ask you to meet him anywhere, and Mallek is telling everybody to shut up so he can take a nap. Konyyl and Azdaja haven’t responded yet. I bet they’re making out in a back alley somewhere. Oh, Tagora is telling Lanque to shut his Troll Twilight-looking ass up before he fines him for wasting the rebellion’s time… and Tyzias just sent a bunch of hysterical laughing emojis.”

“I love my friends,” you say.

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

“I’m gonna get Mallek to hack the server so whenever people start arguing over stupid stuff a bot starts spamming the chat with gifs of fighting purrbeasts.”

“Do group chats have servers?”

“I have no idea. Come on, I’m fucking freezing up here.”

:::

Your memories of growing up on Earth are fuzzy at best. You have no idea if it’s from Scratch, or Ultimate Dirk, or hell, maybe it’s just regular old brain damage, but one of the few things you can vividly remember is when your grandma died.

You can’t remember her name, but you can easily recall her eternally-smiling face, that smile that always reached her eyes-- hazel, like yours. She’s the one who taught you how to braid your hair, wing your eyeliner, ask out a crush. She also taught you how to take down a grown man with nothing but your fists and a pocketknife. Old age hadn’t ever been a problem for your grandma. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

The morning your uncle found in her lifeless in bed hadn’t felt any different than all of the mornings before. You just woke up and started to get ready for school, and then your mom… yeah, it was your mom who picked up the phone. She didn’t cry, but your uncle did.

It was a heart attack.

Your mom told you that you didn’t have to go to school, but you were still pretty young, and it still felt like every other morning before so you went to school.

You’re not sure why you’re remembering this when you first smell the smoke, or see the burning buildings from the roof of the abandoned apartment building you and Polypa crashed in. Maybe it’s because it still feels like every other night before this one.

Something deep in you that’s been irreversibly interwoven with time and space begins to tingle. This is a turning point in history, you just know it.

Polypa’s shaking her head like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. “It’s a riot. A riot. In Thrashthrust. We really aren’t…”

“Alone,” you finish with a smile so big it hurts your face.

“... Do you think this is really the right thing to do?”

“A wise man from my planet once said that riots are the language of the unheard.” You turn to her and take her hands in your own. “So let’s make them hear us.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting when you drop yourself and Polypa into downtown Thrashthrust, but you definitely weren’t expecting to almost get run over by Konyyl and Azdaja, both panting, sweaty, and smelling faintly of smoke.

Konyyl yelps and jumps about a foot in the air. “WHAT the-- oh, hi, guys. You didn’t scare me, I just… yeah.”

“Dude, what is all this? This is incredible!” you crow.

An explosion rocks the ground, followed by a giant plume of fire that shoots up into the sky just one street over. Azdaja whoops in delight, and Konyyl cheers even louder as a piece of flaming metal you think used to be a scuttlebuggy sails through the air and takes out a convenience store. Normally, something like that would have worried you, but seeing as the store’s already nearly burnt to the ground you think everybody’s already gotten out.

Not to be outdone, Azdaja telekinetically grabs on to a fallen lamppost and hurls that bad boy through the grocery store across the street.

“Show-off,” Konyyl scoffs.

“Where’s the main protest?” you ask.

“Like, a couple of blocks back that way. Some bronzeblood is leading the charge. Absolute mad lad,” she says, grinning. “I think a few more people you know might be there.”

That’s all the convincing you need to grab Polypa’s hand and take off running. You can hear the roar of a crowd chanting something.

“What are they saying?” you ask Polypa.

“Be silent no longer, when we’re together, we’re stronger,” she replied, glancing back at you with a twinkle in her eye. “I kinda like it.”

“Me too!”

The both of you turn the corner at the end of Hookedclaw street and find yourself face-to-face with a sizable crowd of about one hundred trolls. They’re all looking up to a pair of trolls standing on an upturned scuttlebuggy-- a bronzeblood, like Konyyl said, and the same big rustblood guy who you ran into last night.

You gape in shock. “Holy shit!”

The bronzeblood boy is yelling something, so you press closer into the crowd to hear what he’s saying. Most of the trolls here seem to be lowbloods, so when they see you and Polypa, an oliveblood, they gladly make room for you to join.

“... for what? A social construction that keeps us divided, because those who sit on thrones marked with the blood of our people know how strong we are together! They know that we’d be able to take control of our own destinies, and that terrifies them!” He pauses to take a short breath. “For fuck’s sake, I just want a world where I can walk down the street without worrying about getting killed! Is the bar really that damn low? Think about that, all of you!”

Another wave of cheering echoes through the streets, and you join in without hesitation.

“This guy’s spitting straight facts,” Polypa admits, looking impressed.

“He’s got balls, all right,” you agree. “That rustblood guy look familiar to you?”

She ribs you. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. I admit it.”

You turn your attention back to the boys, but they’re looking over the heads of the protestors at something behind you. A soft wave of hisses rise into the air as you turn to see a trio of purples stalking towards everybody, clubs dragging behind them with the awful scrape of steel against concrete. They’re twice the size of Polypa, except the giant fucker in the middle, who you think might be just a little bit shorter than Chahut.

“That’s a pretty sermon there, bronze brother,” he calls with a voice that crackles like burning wood. “Pretty for a load of treasonous fuckin’ shit.”

“Can’t be shittier than whatever they’re cooking up in that drug-hole church of yours,” the bronzeblood fires back with a smirk.

Even the rustblood standing next to him sucks in a sharp breath as the clown regards him with no trace of emotion. Polypa grabs your hand, and you squeeze it tight.

“You’ve got a big-ass mouth for a critter the size of my motherfuckin’ left toe,” the clown on the big guy’s right says.

“And you’ve got a big-ass forehead for a bastard with such a tiny skull.”

Somebody lets out a loud snort. It might have been you.

The feeble tendrils of bravery holding everybody together begin to unravel as the purplebloods begin to approach once more. You instinctively back up and pull your jacket hood over your head.

“Get ready,” Polypa growls.

But before the clowns have the chance to attack or use their chucklevoodoos, or before the lowbloods gather their courage enough to storm the intruders, a deafening CRACK splits the air like a thunderclap.

The clown to the far left drops like a rock, and standing over him, bat raised, is Elwurd.

She’s wearing a mask to conceal her face, of course, but you’d recognize that crest of blue hair anywhere. Beside her is Remele with her oversized mallet-club thing, and bringing up the rear with shining dual blades is none other than Ardata Carmia.

“Am I fucking dreaming,” you ask nobody in particular, and then all hell breaks loose.

The cerulean girls lunge for the two purplebloods that are still on their feet. The bronzeblood screams for everybody to scatter just as drones begin to swoop down from the sky, opening fire on the trolls below. Half a dozen kids drop dead on the spot.

You and Polypa duck into the nearest alleyway just in time before bullet holes pepper the pavement. Behind you, Elwurd roars something that sounds like “Duck!” before another explosion blows out all the windows. You yelp and cover your head as glass showers down on you like rainfall.

“Zap us out of here!” Polypa yells.

“No, wait! We have to go help the girls!”

“I’m not going back out there and neither are you!”

You glance back just in time to see Ardata drop to her knees, holding her bloody arm. She’s shrieking in terror as a drone advances on her, culling fork glinting bone-white in the darkness. Remele and Elwurd are too busy getting their asses kicked by the last living clown to help.

In that moment you can’t remember her as the bloodthirsty murderer who tortured you in her basement. All you can think of is the time she broke down in your arms, overcome with guilt at the monster she’d become in the name of being accepted by highblood society. A monster who’d traumatized you, and then became your friend.

You’re moving through space and time before your brain can catch up to what you’re doing. Ardata is cold and hard when you tackle her out of the way of the drone. The two of you tumble across the street together as the culling fork hits the spot where Ardata just was with a SHUNK. Even with adrenaline racing through your system the sound chills you to the core.

Remembering what Dirk taught you about hand-to-hand combat with a larger opponent, you grab one of her knives and zap right over to the clown, getting right up in his business before burying the blade into an eye socket.

Unsurprisingly, he drops a squirming Remele and covers his face with a scream so horrible you almost pee your pants. Ardata’s wailing your name from the sidewalk like a terrified child. You want to yell at her to shut up and run before the drones spotted her again, but you never get the chance. One moment you’re twisting a knife into a purpleblood’s skull, the next you’re flying through the air like a ragdoll before a pair of strong arms wrap around you. You and your rescuer land hard on the street with matching grunts of pain.

You look up into Elwurd’s bewildered face and burst out laughing. “Hi!”

“What the--”

“Time to go!” Remele yanks the both of you up by your scruffs like a pair of naughty cats. “Ardata, stop screaming like a wiggler and get your arse over here now!”

“My arm!” Ardata screeches. “I’ll be scarred for life!”

“No, you won’t, idiot, not when you hit your adult molt-!”

You zap the three of them out of there and into the alley, grab Polypa on your way, and then get the hell out of dodge.

The five of you end up in the back of a Troll Dennys, because of course you do. Polypa falls on you, knocking you to the ground, and then she yowls in anger when Elwurd lands on her legs, only for Ardata and Remele to hit the concrete ass-first. Remele accidentally kicks you in the stomach. Ardata falls back against a dumpster and hits her head on the metal with a BANG.

Everybody stares at each other for a long moment with varying degrees and expressions of utter shock. Polypa glares at you, and you just know you’re in for a long discussion about putting your own safety first in dangerous situations, or something like that.

You decide to break the ice first. “Anybody want pancakes?”

[shhawnboi]

Dad’s Approval | Connor Brashier

Summary: Your dad hates Connor so much that even he starts questioning himself and it’s your job to remind him why he can’t be more wrong.

Word Account: 2K

A/N: This is my first imagine ever, so sorry if it’s to cringey and disappointing. Also, English it’s not my first language, excuse my poor vocabulary and grammar and please tell me major mistakes to correct them.  

                                                          *  *  *  *

Y/D/N Y/L/N, your father, is Connor’s second worst nightmare, the first one being losing you. Mister Y/L/N is the boss of the biggest lawyer’s firm on LA, he is feared and respected everywhere because he has enough power to bring everyone he wants down, and that includes Connor, luckily this hasn’t happened to him, yet.

Your dad adores you. You are his pride and joy he just wants the best for you and he thinks that Connor, a simple boy with a camera, will never be enough, so he takes every chance he gets to remind you both, that. You don’t care about you dad’s nagging words but Connor does because he can’t help but agreeing with him. You deserve better than him and he is a selfish jerk for keeping you all to himself, but he can’t bear the idea of letting you go.

Last Monday your dad called to invite you two for dinner at his favorite restaurant ‘Saint Japher’, a place designed for the upper class with menus that just a few of privileged people can afford, and in that group of people Connor isn’t included. Your father does every other time for two main reasons: to see if you are still together and to drag Connor’s confidence down (task that he has always accomplished successfully). Connor has always tried to win your dad’s favor but to Y/D/N’s eyes, Connor was just a kid who plays with a camera and think that’s a job.

When Connor wakes up, the first thing he sees is your beautiful figure cuddled against his right side. Your body is covered by just his shirt and nothing more, and it makes him feel all cozy inside because it means that all of you is his. You are completely knocked out, it’s a normal occurrence whenever you see your father, he never fails on getting on your nerves and tiring you to death, especially when he starts throwing knives at Connor like there’s no tomorrow. Connor gives you a light kiss on your forehead and decides to go out for a run, he needs it to clear his mind a little. When he steps out of bed you start moving on your sleep but you don’t get up. He tries not to make too much noise while he’s getting dressed and when he is finally out of the house, he lets a long exhale escape from his lips. Con knows that he shouldn’t give a fuck about what your dad thinks about him but he does because he agrees with your father, you deserve better.  

By the time Connor starts running following the peace of some catchy pop song, every snarky word your dad said yesterday comes to his mind, crashing him with the force of wave colliding against the rocks.

“Do you remember Thomas Lebrant, darling?” asked you father while he was looking at the menu.

“Yes dad, I remember Tom.” of course you did remember Tom, you dated him for a year... before you left him for Connor.

“I saw him him the other day, he’s doing great at medical school, he will have a bright future, he’s a very hard-working man, he asked me about you. I really think he was your perfect match.”  

Connor remembered Thomas too, your first boyfriend, he was the guy every father wanted for his daughter: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect behavior... he was just perfect. You started dating him when you were seventeen and spent a whole year with him, but when you met Connor you started to feel things you had never felt before and you had to break up.  

Con will never forget the day he saw you for the first time. It was a sunny day in LA, he was at the beach with Sam doing a photoshoot with an Instagram model called Lydia Hanni, she was laying on the hot sand and he was supposed to be taking photos of her body, but he couldn’t focus his camera on her, he was too busy filming the beautiful girl playing frisbee with her friends. When you noticed a pair of eyes on you, you turned around and saw Connor with his camera. He waved his hand to say ‘hi’ and you smiled, at that moment Connor swears he felt his whole world stop. That was the beginning of your love story and your dad’s worst headache ever.

“Good for him, dad. I guess you told him that I’m doing pretty good with Uni and my lovely boyfriend.” you reached for Connor’s hand and you pressed a little kiss on it. Your father let out a sigh and Connor smiled at you. You had the power to make everything better.

“I told him you had a little adventure with some guy.”

‘A two years adventure’ thought Connor.

At first he thought that her dad needed time to warm up to him, but time passed and he didn’t change his mindset. He hoped that when he started working for Shawn your dad would be happy, but that didn’t occur, in fact, he got pissed because he was going with his friends to have fun in Europe leaving you alone. Nothing he does it’s good for your dad and that’s eating him alive. He tries to ignore it but it gets harder every single day.  

“Have you found a real job yet?”

“My friend is looking for a coffee guy for his office, I could call him if you are interested?”

“How much has your boss payed you for your hobby? I mean, it’s not a very hard task.”

“Did you have fun on tour? Doing nothing playing with your friends?”

He loves his job and he’s proud of it but he is starting to believe that it’s not enough for you. Your father is right, you are worth of a rich, wealthy man that can give you all you want in matter of minutes. You always say that he’s the best that has ever happened to you, but now he thinks you say that because he’s keeping you away from greater things that you’ll never discover if you’re with him.

When he arrives home after an hour of running, he goes straight to the shower, maybe that’s what he needs to clear his mind for good. Once the hot water hits his muscles, he lets a satisfied moan, a hot shower never fails to relax him.

You wake up the moment you hear the water running from the bathroom, you guess that’s Connor having a morning shower but once you notice his sport clothes scattered across the bedroom floor, you know he’s probably gone out to clear his mind a little. You can’t blame him though, the shitshow your dad pulled yesterday at the restaurant was capable to put everyone on the edge of their sanity. You have talked nearly a billion times with your dad about his behavior with your boyfriend but he always ignores it. You’re sick of it because Connor doesn’t deserve an ounce of the shit your father aims at him, no one really deserves it to be honest. Your boyfriend is the best that has ever happened to you and you’re so proud and in love with him that whenever your dad opens his big mouth, your heart breaks a little.

You decide to get out of bed and get into the shower with him to show him some love. You get rid of your shirt when you enter the bathroom. Connor hasn’t realized yet that you’re there and very much awake so you got him by surprise when you stepped into the shower.

Everything in you is alluring and lovely to Connor’s eyes and your body is no exception. He loved and praised every inch of it, it’s his temple, the place where all his problems disappear. He was completely addicted to it, therefore when you decide to enter the shower, his first instinct is to pull your naked body closer to his.

“Hi, love.” this pet-name always sends shivers down your spine and makes you smile like an idiot “How are you?” you were both under the hot stream of water, nose and foreheads touching and eyes closed.

“That’s what I should be asking, handsome.” you whisper as you kiss him delicately, like you’re afraid of breaking him.  

“I’ve been better.” he confesses with a forced smile. He doesn’t want you to worry about him but you know too well that grimace on his face and the dull look on his beautiful eyes.

“I’m so sorry about my dad, I can’t believe what an asshole he can be.” you’re really ashamed by your father, he never respects your decisions or opinions, each time he tries to impose his no matter what.  

“You don’t have to excuse him, I mean, he’s not wrong.” he looks away because he knows that if he sees your breathtaking eyes, he’ll break down in matter of seconds.

“What do you mean he’s not wrong, Con?” you hold his face between your hands and you make him look at you.

“He’s right about me.” he says heartbroken.

“No, he’s not, baby.” you try to reason with him but he doesn’t take it and watching him so sad is destroying you.

“C’mon Y/N, he’s right. You are this beautiful, kind, smart and amazing woman and I’m a kid with a camera. All your life you’ve been surrounded by the most incredible things on Earth, your dad could give you all you wanted. I’ll never be able to do that, I can’t take you to Bali every month, I can’t pay your studies... You know who could? Thomas, he was perfect for you and I took you away, if you were with him, I bet you’d be happier becau...” you smack his chest before he can finish his ridiculous speech, now you’re pissed and frustrated, he can’t be saying all of that, can he?

“I swear to god, Connor David Brashier, that if you say something like all the bullshit you have just said, I’ll kick you out of the house until your two remaining brain cells realize how utterly stupid you are.”

“Bab...” he tries to interrupt you but you shut him off before he can argue back.

“Don’t ‘Babe’ me, idiot. Connor, I love you, more than anything, you’re my world. Listen, maybe my dad has always given me whatever the hell I wanted, do you know the price? He was never there for me, I was left alone 24/7, on my birthdays, recitals, competitions, even in my own graduation, he showered me with gifts but not love. And Tom, he was a nice guy, he treated me right and all of that, always so perfect, it was boring as fuck: we never stayed three days in a row at home doing nothing besides fucking and eating, he never surprised me with 3 AM dates at the beach or with little getaways at Target... Tom was just there but he didn’t make me feel anything, not the way you do. I want you. You’re the best part of my life and I can’t imagine a future without you. I don’t care about monthly travels to Bali, I care about months just by your side. I love you Connor, you’re perfect.”

Once you finish your monologue, you notice he’s crying. You clean his tears with your soft fingers and he kisses you passionately against the shower wall.

“I love you, Y/N” he embraces you strongly, afraid that if he loosens his grip, you’ll disappear.  

“I love you Connor, let me show you.” you kneel down and that’s the only thing Connor needs to know that he’s in for a very long morning and he’s so ready for it.

                                                       * * * * 

I hope you all have enjoyed it. Please like, comment or repost if you liked it. Right now, I’m working on a long Shawn Mendes fic, tell me if you’d like to read it.

[beccasfm]

𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐦. 𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞. 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫.  ／  𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧  — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 ! 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐟, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐢’𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫-𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬. 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 !

                          𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕞𝕠𝕠𝕟. 𝟚𝟜. 𝕖𝕤𝕥. 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪/𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞.

what’s up friends! first off: i’m moon, i’m a Certified Mess™ and this is my baby becca. it’s my first time playing her in a group, and i’ve tried to pin down some career claims that best represent her but there will be a couple tweaks so pls bare with me ?? that being said, on an out of character note… i’m very nice but salty trash. 99% gay. crazy energy. there’s prolly a tiktok of me passed out in a deep freezer somewhere bc i can’t control myself. i LOVE to talk 2 talk so come into my dms if u ever wanna hc and scream into oblivion. now, onto the actual important stuff:

𝕤 𝕥 𝕒 𝕥 𝕚 𝕤 𝕥 𝕚 𝕔 𝕤 , 

𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘: becca park. 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘(𝗦): b, bec, becks, basically anything! 𝗔𝗚𝗘: twenty-one. 𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗗𝗔𝗬: february 23rd. 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥: cis female. 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗦: she/her 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗖 𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: panromantic. ( closeted ) 𝗦𝗘𝗫𝗨𝗔𝗟 𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡: pansexual. ( closeted ) 𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧: 5′5 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗟 𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧: neutral good. 𝗠𝗕𝗧𝗜: infp. 𝗛𝗢𝗚𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘: hufflepuff. 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗦: kind, gentle, hardworking, spineless, fearful, devoted, loyal, intelligent, adaptable, cautious.

𝕓 𝕒 𝕔 𝕜 𝕘 𝕣 𝕠 𝕦 𝕟 𝕕 ,

growing up on the set of a beloved family sitcom wasn’t a typical childhood, but it’s one becca is quite fond of considering the track record of child starlets and how they feel about their pasts. if you asked becca now, in private, she might say she wishes she had a time machine to go back to when she’d be eating sandwiches with her co-stars on set and doing the homework her private tutor had laid out for her between takes.

*( pls note i claimed both full house / boy meets world and that’s because becca’s show/history stretches from age 5 to her teen years, the timeline didn’t really add up but use ur imagination pls i did the best i could.. )

she grows up in front of a camera and absolutely loves it. acting is where she’s meant to be, even if it’s sitcom material. it’s good for her age, lighthearted, and she has surprisingly supportive people around her. she works maybe more than a kid should, but she finds that’s her default preference, and sitting alone for too long makes her restless. the show itself has quite the cult following and the diehard fans accumulate over the years. by the time becca is in her teens and social media is booming, her and her co-star are thrust into the spotlight. it’s all sweet, fun and games, becca now having a platform to get familiar with the fans she loves so much. the show’s success not only makes up her childhood, but the childhood of so many others, and something about that becomes irreplaceable to her.

however, all good things must come to an end. when she’s going on seventeen, the show is finally cancelled, the last episode finally giving viewers what they wanted: a happy ending for becca’s character and her co-star’s, the ship that had been over a decade in the making. cameras cut, lights off, and suddenly the team that was once so supportive of her is nowhere to be seen.

becca is desperate not to fall out. 

they tell her there’s not much room for her in the acting world, that having such a household name under her belt means people won’t associate her with anything else, and her team convinces her to give up on acting entirely. becca is crushed, but understands ( sort of ), and even if acting is where her heart is, she listens to ‘ what’s best for her ’.

thus, her pop career starts. it’s the formula for every washed up childstar, but becca is determined to make things work. she might not have the best pipes in the business or the most refined writing skills, but she has heart, and she will do anything she sets her mind to, anything it takes to be seen as good. so she puts triple the hours in the dance studio, recording studio, practices writing songs every day, does her scales until it finally clicks. her fans take to her well enough and becca doesn’t disappear long enough to be forgotten about. instead, she re-emerges as BECCA, all caps for her stage name, and re-invents herself to keep her claws in hollywood.

still, the rising fame in the cutthroat industry, especially as a teenage girl, is quite terrible. suddenly she goes from the beloved sweetheart of everyone’s favorite sitcom to a real popstar, someone that dates, someone that goes out, someone that’s seen in the spotlight. and as much as she’s praised, she’s scrutinized. for someone that takes criticism hard, it’s her biggest challenge yet.

rather than succumbing to the trainwreck trope, becca does the opposite. she keeps doing her yoga, rarely if ever drinks in public, always has a smile on, dates in private, dodges all potential scandals to keep the focus on her music and off her personal life. and so far, it’s working, but for someone that’s singing pop music written by everyone else instead of acting in front of a camera, how long can she keep it up?

𝕡 𝕖 𝕣 𝕤 𝕠 𝕟 𝕒 𝕝 𝕚 𝕥 𝕪 ,

at her core, becca is a kind, loyal and just person. she cares deeply for other people and finds it hard to cope with the immense pressure and materialism of the industry she works in at times. she hopes one day to return to acting, but growing up surrounded by opinions older and bigger than hers, she’s quite used to doing what she’s told.

she has a hard time trusting herself with choosing what’s good for her. instead, she listens to the opinions of others. she puts a lot of weight on it, and can come across as spineless. an industry puppet. she’s on stage dancing and singing, but her heart is somewhere else. still, it doesn’t stop her from putting everything else she has into it.

even when it’s something she doesn’t particularly want, becca is nothing but grateful. she works until she sweats and until she has blisters. she is nothing if not persistent. everything is done graciously, because becca doesn’t do much, if anything, out of spite.

at times it can all come crashing in on her, though. for someone that cares a lot about what people think, having ten million people look your way constantly can be overwhelming. she’s naturally introverted and leans on this during these times. lots of time at home with her cats, watching films, baking, hiding away from the world.

becca doesn’t date or party in public because she’s so intensely afraid of scandal or judgement. that doesn’t stop her from going out, but she’s more likely to hold the purses and help get someone home than she is to dance on a table. still, she avoids judging anyone herself. she worries for everyone else, and only wants to see the people around her succeed.

𝕨 𝕒 𝕟 𝕥 𝕖 𝕕  𝕔 𝕠 𝕟 𝕟 𝕖 𝕔 𝕥 𝕚 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤 ,

good influence. perhaps another pop singer that helps her out, works as a confidante, someone she asks tips of and helps her get into something she’s not fully adjusted to yet. ‘don’t play that venue, it sucks’ typa friend.

ride or die. someone that’s known her since her good ol’ tv days and has stuck by her. someone she tells all her secrets to, someone that she confides in with her secret of not really wanting to do music at all. basically, they’d tell each other everything and keep it under lock and key.

enemies. maybe a rival? it could be new, perhaps an award show slip up, or an old enemy from her tv days. it could be a two-way street, purely online beef, or some mutual dislike through the grapevine.

her personal mess. someone that’s messy as hell that becca takes care of. she gets them home after a wild night, or comes in to do damage control before any paps get a view of what’s happening. she helps protect them and their image.

friends turned sour. despite her kind nature, becca can easily be accused of living a lie or being inauthentic. someone that was once her friend but can’t stand her inability to tell people no, or do what she really wants. 

jump off the trainwreck. since she’s so obsessed with her image, perhaps she could have an enemy that was someone she abandoned after a scandal? the ‘i can’t associate with you’ type thing because it brings headlines, and they aren’t fond that she lets the media get in the way of their relationship. could be a platonic one or a romantic one.

behind closed doors. someone she’s seeing but refuses to tell anyone about because she’s afraid what people will think, or doesn’t want to be scrutinized for it. the other muse could either agree, or be frustrated with their situation.

shout out to my ex. maybe they dated and either they write a song about becca that goes viral or vice versa. names may not be named, but there’s tons of speculation by fans and there’s definitely some tension / drama about who and what it’s fully about, but maybe only they know!

and of course, any exes, hookups, casual friends, etc. are up for grabs !

[mimzy-writing-online]

I'm incredibly sorry for this ask , but I'd like the opinion of different writers. I have this story I have finished. It's has been re-read, edited, polished. It's technically done. The story is consistent, the pacing is okay. But what I don't like is how the characters are portrayed. They lack life, and I think it may be because during the years I improved my writing, and now I'm sure I'd be able to do better. What would you do? Would you rewrite the story from scratch? Thanks in advance.

First, no worries about asking for advice. That’s legit what I’m here for. And having been in the same position you are now, (twice) I know how impossible it feels.

Off the bat, advice I would recommend: 

Beta Reading: Get some fresh eyes to look at it, ideally someone who 1) reads books in that genre and that age range, and 2) has no obligation to worry about your feelings.

Thoroughly consider why you want to rewrite it: make an actual pros and cons list. It sounds silly, but it helps because you realize what decision you’re arguing for, what your instinct says.

Give yourself a shot at attempting a rewrite. Give yourself a set time limit to try it out. Your current book isn’t going anywhere and publishing takes forever anyway, so what’s another month or another three months?

At the end of this trial run you can ask yourself: Did a rewrite make it better? Do the characters and their world feel more alive? Even if it looks like a mess, given more time to finish and edit, would it look better than the original?

If you find you like the characters better, if you feel like you know them better, then you can consider going through the book and highlighting where they feel out of character compared to your new understanding of the characters

Watch Whispers of the Heart. I mean it! It’s a Studio Ghibli movie, and I swear to god it will inspire you and make this decision a little easier. The whole movie is about developing your creative craft. Its overall analogy is that of a geode. Your craft looks rough and sloppy on the outside, but with time, practice, and love you’ll find the beauty hidden underneath and make it shine. Amazing movie, it will change how you think about writing.

Now, finally, ask yourself: Is this the story I want to debut with? Is this the story I want to begin my writing career with?

This will be when you make your decision.

That’s the most objective advice I can give you. Since you’re asking a lot of writers for their stance, you’ll probably have a few different opinions, but I think running through this troubleshoot method will give you a chance to see for yourself.

My biased opinion?

It comes from my own experience with A Witch’s Memory. 

This is about to be a very long story, fair warning, but it’s my entire thought process over 7-8 years of working on and off with the same project. A big part of the reason why I’m going in depth about the experience is because I keep going back to what you said:

“I think it may be because during the years I improved my writing, and now I'm sure I'd be able to do better. What would you do?”

The same thing happened to be. I started the series when I was much younger, but in the 7.5 years since then I’ve changed a lot as both a person (not adult/not teenager) and as a writer (who’s had several projects since then). I’m gonna walk you through 7.5 years of personal development and how it affected the project.

I joke that A Witch’s Memory has three universes, and those universes are all different rewrites. I first started the series I was seventeen. I finished the rough drafts of three books in the series and got down to full on editing the first book after I graduated high school. Within a year I had a finished novel that wasn’t necessarily polished (not by my standards today) but at the time I was ready to move forward and publish. I sent query letters out to lit agents but didn’t get any bites back. I didn’t get to work at it for long due to health issues, my whole body kind of just crashed so for six months I was too sick to do much of anything, let alone stress myself out over query letters. I started community college the next semester and got more involved in school than in writing.

17 when I started, 18 when I started editing, 19 when I queried and got sick, almost turning 20 when I started college.

I put the book on hold for another year and focused on school. During that time I had a lot of personal development as a person. I got more experience being myself, being an adult who can make decisions for themself.

And I realized that at age 19 I’d developed a lot of insecurities about my book.

In my case, it was the world building. I love my characters, and at their heart they’re still the same, albeit a bit more realistic. I re-examined what about the world building I didn’t like.

It felt too much like Twilight to start, with the way vampires and werewolves were supposed to hate each other, and witches and fairies hated each other, because that just made sense to a 17 year old who had never read paranormal before Twilight changed the direction of the genre.

I didn’t like magic being a secret that no human could know about, so I changed that. I didn’t like my character’s backstories too much, so I tweaked that too. For the best.

At age 20/21 (it was right around my birthday) I rewrote the entire first book. After finishing the rough draft I looked at editing it, looked at starting the rough draft of the second book, and I realized I didn’t like this version either.

So I put it on hold for anther two years. I worked on two different projects, experimented with writing style, got to know myself as a person better.

At 23 I reexamined what I didn’t like about “Universe 2″ and I realized-

I wasn’t comfortable with the way the book was written now. Too many main characters meant to many pov changes and too many personal plot lines to plan. I could see from the beginning how much I favored Anna and Ulric and Felix over my other main characters, so I cut my cast of six main characters down to three, focusing on my favorites. I also saw that the setting wasn’t working for me and it would be a lot less stress for me to chance the setting to somewhere I was more familiar with, setting it mostly in America instead of the U.K.

And I decided to stop worrying about what my past beta readers would think if the book didn’t look the same in “Universe 3″ and to just run with my heart.

(For any wondering, the beta reader in question is my mum, who has been the biggest supporter of my writing since I was 14 and believed I would be published even when I was ready to give up writing and work at a different career. She’s very attached to “Universe 1″ but it’s not where I want to go, and I know she’ll love this new direction when she reads it)

I started the rough draft for Universe 3 in January of 2019 (almost a year ago to the day I’m writing this). I did it on a whim. I had a dream of Anna and Ulric flying to safety from a villain on a broomstick and I asked myself why witches never had broomsticks in my old world, and I was like “why not, let’s add it”

And I just messed with world building. I aimed it for a more whimsical feel than my older angsty versions. I’m gonna blame all the Studio Ghibli movies I saw that year. Some of my local theatres have been doing special weekends where they show the movies, and I’ve gone to see four in the last year or so. I saw Kiki’s Delivery Service a few months earlier with my best friend (A) and then a month after starting the new draft I saw Howls Moving Castle and Spirited Away (same week, I think, all in theatre) and then as I was finishing the rough draft I saw Whispers of the Heart for the first time.

(this was the moment I realized that specific movie would help A LOT on this decision making process, so I included it above)

Anyway, I just gave myself permission to go in a completely different direction with my book.

I should note, that at 23 I had been visually impaired/blind for some 3 years, although it wasn’t medically official until I was 22. I’d also fallen in love for the first time and broken my own heart. I’d also spent the last two years struggling with gender and sexual identity and really starting to understand that part of myself. 

So in general, the whole experience with those last two years of my life really changed the direction I took the book. 

I focused more on internal struggle as well as the outside “main bad guy” I’d always been planning to work with. It 

I kept the heart of my characters the same. Anna is still the kindest person you’ll ever meet, as well as sarcastic and brilliant and studious. Ulric is an anxious mess who is crazy loyal to his friends and who wants to gain his own independence. Felix is still a brat, but a loving one with the dryest sarcasm and a penchant for mischief.

Anna’s more cautious than her original incarnation. Ulric wasn’t disabled in previous versions (but at 23 I was disabled and I wanted to write a blind character, but I didn’t want blindness to be their only trait, so I took my most developed character and made him blind). Some of the characters are POC instead of white, I let myself have multiple LGBTQ characters (because 17 year old me thought the token queer was the norm because I only had one queer friend before that and we weren’t that close) and I changed some origin stories. It’s much better for that.

Growing up taught me how to put more life in my books, how to write more realistically less melodramatically, and what it feels like to have friends. Seventeen year old me didn’t have many friends in life, but 24 year old me has some wonderful friends.

Summary in Short?? (can I even do that?)

This advice post is getting long and I’m feeling bad, so okay, here I am: I’m almost 25 (in March). 17 and 23 year old me were very different people with different priorities and different levels of experience. And if I had to choose which book I would go with? 

I’d stay with Universe 3 (and Universe 1 will just be a thing my mum and I know and keep to ourselves, mostly)

I’m nearly done with the 1st edit. I still have days of self doubt, but they’re nothing like what I had years ago. I’m closer to publishing than I was before, mostly because I have a solid plan now and I’ll be self-publishing, allowing me to publish on my own.

In my case, rewriting was the best decision I could have made. I’m not everyone else though, nor am I you. You know yourself and your story better than anyone, and I know you are the most qualified person to make that decision. I have confidence in your ability.

[incorrectsanders]

No One Will Hurt You (Mall Employee AU)

Hello All! Logan is a protective baby and thinking about him taking care of everyone is too precious to process. Read other installments of the AU here Send in prompts and questions too!! I love hearing from you all :)

Relationship: Platonic Logan/Everyone

Genre: Hurt/Comfort kind of?

Summary: Logan is the biggest softie of them all. He just wants to protect and take care of everyone because that’s who he is. Every single one of them appreciates it. 

Warnings: None

“NO!” Roman screeched, ripping off his headphones and slamming them down on the table. “Damnit, can you just work with me for once in your fu-“ “Woah- calm down, what’s wrong?” Virgil asked, leaning down next to Roman. Logan looked up from where he was cuddled into Patton’s side, a book open up in his lap. Roman’s 2009 MacBook was open on Logan and Patton’s dining room table, and the screen was blacked out.

The four were hanging out at Patton and Logan’s apartment. Virgil and Patton were studying, Logan was reading, and Roman was working on his channel. Roman had been grumbling at his computer the entire time, complaining about how it kept freezing and running slow and the program kept crashing. He couldn’t even use it unless it was plugged into his charger. 

“The whole system crashed! I was editing for hours, it didn’t save and now it won’t turn back on!” And Logan kissed the peaceful afternoon goodbye. “Here, let me look at it.” He said, standing up and heading over to the table. He brushed a hand over Roman’s shoulders and ruffled his hair lightly before he took the computer and ran through the normal tests to try to turn it on. When it wouldn’t, he turned to Roman, who had frustrated tears in his eyes. 

“It might be time for a new laptop, Princey. MacBooks aren’t built to last this long, even if you take really good care of it.” “I can’t afford a new one!” Roman whimpered. “They’re so expensive- And I need it for my channel and my auditions- can’t I just get it fixed?!” Logan sighed, shutting it and looking down at the small teen who was shaking now. He understood how stressed out Roman was. The second youngest member of their group didn’t live with his parents, he was only seventeen and paid rent, and he often spent his extra money on makeup, or concerts- things for his videos. Right now, everyone was in a good place except for Roman and Patton and Logan desperately wanted to take care of both of them. This month he’d covered Patton’s half of the rent “I’ll take it down to the store and run a diagnostic on it, see what I can do. Here.” He said, grabbing his own MacBook and setting it in front of Roman. “Use mine. I’ll be back soon.” Roman’s laptop was entirely done for. Logan didn’t even attempt to fix it, all he did was recover all the stored data on the laptop and transfer it to a new MacBook Pro. As much as he hated the fact that Roman didn’t even try to go to college, the boy was extremely smart. It had only been a few months since he started his channel and it was already growing pretty well. Giving him a new laptop would definitely help with that. Like Patton constantly said, Logan was a much bigger softie than he let on. Walking back in was a little overwhelming. He was immediately hit with the sound of crying and the sight of Roman curled up in Patton’s lap with his head in his shoulder. Virgil noticed him first. “He’s upset because your computer works so well. It only took him two hours to edit his video and it usually takes him seven.” He explained. “Ah… good thing he likes it, I wasn’t sure what I would have done with this if he didn’t.” Logan said, holding up the bag that held the laptop. Virgil brought his hands up to his temples. “You, Dad, and Remy, I swear.” Roman finally looked up, sniffling quietly and pouting. “Can you fix it?” He asked, seemingly oblivious to the conversation they just had “I can’t, no.” Logan said, heading over. Roman let out a lout whine and Logan just shushed him in response, handing him the bag. “But I got you this.” He said. Roman sniffled quietly, opening the bag and screeching when he saw an identical laptop to Logan’s. “Logan, I can’t-“ “I know you can’t afford it. Don’t worry about it.” “Logan-“ “I’m serious, Princey, you’re one of my best friends. Just let me take care of you.” Roman stared at him in shock for a minute, before he was letting out a loud cry and jumping out of Patton’s lap for favor of Logan’s. “Logan! I’ll never call you a nerd again! No- No, that’s a lie, but I love you so much! You didn’t have to- thank you, thank you, thank you!” He cried out, clinging to him. Logan was pretty sure Roman didn’t stop crying for a week. *** It wouldn’t be a surprise if Thomas broke down in some way. He’d been going through his paperwork constantly and Logan could see that it was stressing him out. He was adopting a sixteen year old, after all. That was hard… “What do you need me to do for you?” Logan asked as Virgil returned to work. The three of them had been in the back eating lunch together and Logan still had another five minutes before he had to go back. “What?” Thomas asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re stressing over this, Thomas. You’ve been at this for seven months and you just want him in your house. All of us do. So what do you need me to do for you?” He asked. Thomas smiled. He was shocked, he’d only known Logan for about six months now but he was constantly helping out. He’d covered shifts multiple times, he’d done taxes for both him and Joan and Tayln. Patton, he’d expect that from but he’d figured out that anyone who was friends with Patton had just as big of a heart as he did. “I’m okay, Logan. Really, I’m meeting him for lunch tomorrow. If he agrees, he’ll be in my house in a few days.” He said. Logan breathed out a sigh of relief, then nodded. “Okay… but really, Thomas. There’s nothing you need? This whole thing has been so stressful for you, hasn’t it? Let me help.” He said. “If there's something I need, I’ll let you know.” Thomas said, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Get back to work. Oh! Actually, do you know how to build furniture? I bought this bed frame and dresser-“ “I’ll be at yours tonight to help.” Logan agreed, before he was heading out of the store without a word. Sure enough, Logan and Patton were there that night to help and they were armed with some tools and a lasagne and a pie. Logan was distracted upstairs with the furniture when Thomas and Patton went downstairs to get it warmed up. “This looks so good Pat, thanks for bringing it.” He smiled. “Oh! I didn’t make it. Logan made both.” Patton shrugged. “I was in class all day.” Thomas laughed lightly, shaking his head. “That boy really is just a big teddy bear, isn’t he?” “Have I ever told you how I met him?” Patton asked, a fond smile crossing his face. *** Virgil let out a frustrated groan as he tossed and turned in his bed. Thomas was on a business trip. It was three in the morning and he was extremely anxious, so no matter what he did he could not get himself to sleep. Being alone scared him, but there also wasn’t much that he could do about it. It was just anxiety. He’d been on and off his phone all night, but every time he put it down his anxiety would start flaring up, like now. His phone started ringing. “… Hello?” “Why are you still up?” Logan’s calm tone came through the phone “What- how do you know I’m up? “Your tumblr said you were online.” “Well… why are you up? You have no room to talk.” “Come open the door.” “… What?” “I’m downstairs. Come open the door.” Virgil frowned, getting up and heading downstairs. He peaked out the peephole and sure enough, Logan was standing there in sweats, a beanie, and a t-shirt. He opened it up. “L? What are you doing here?” “I wanted to check on you. I know you get anxious when you have to sleep alone.” Logan hummed, walking in and ushering Virgil away from the door. He closed and locked it, dropping his backpack by it before he turned back to Virgil. “Has your anxiety been bothering you? Have you had any attacks?” Virgil still wasn’t sure what was happening, but he was used to how protective Logan was. He’d only known him for four years now and he’d done so much for him and the rest of them. “A couple of small ones.” He admitted quietly. The older man nodded, placing a gentle hand on Virgil’s lower back and leading him upstairs. “Alright. Come on, let’s go lay down.” “Let’s?” “You’re having anxiety attacks. You need some rest, and I’m not gonna leave you alone.” “I’m not alone, Coon is here... somewhere.” He said softly, looking around for the cat. Where was she when he needed her? “It’s fine, Virgil. I want to be here with you.” Logan said. “If I can provide comfort then I’m happy to stay the night. I’ll stay over until Thomas comes back if you want.” Virgil paused. “Would you?” “Of course.” That night Virgil fell asleep on Logan’s chest as Logan read quietly to him and gently ran his nails up and down his back under his shirt. Every night after that was the same until Thomas got back five days later. The night Thomas got back, Virgil couldn’t sleep. So, he called Logan and Logan told him to wrap himself up in a warm blanket before he started reading to him over the phone. *** Joan was beyond stressed. That much was obvious. Between everything they and Tayln had going on neither of them had a time for a breath. Logan hated seeing it. They needed a break. “Alright.” He said, walking in and walking over to where Joan was frantically typing on their laptop. He closed it and they frowned, looking up. “Hey!” “You need a break.” Logan said. Joan’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t tell me when to take breaks, we’re partners. I decide when I take a break.” They said, their voice taking on a childish tone. “I can and I will. You’re not allowed back on this computer, in any of the stores, or in the Vet office for the next two weeks.” Logan said simply, pulling out a folder. “I already talked to Tayln. They agreed to give the rest of their appointments this week to Patton and they’re taking it off too. Everyone is ready to help out if they need to. You two are going to going on a trip to New York for two weeks. You have three Broadway shows to see.” He said sternly. Joan frowned, opening the folder. In it was two plane tickets, and six Broadway tickets along with a receipt that showed Logan had booked them two weeks in a five star hotel. “Logan-“ They started. “No! You’re going. You need a major break, Joan.” Joan smirked a bit, sitting back. “And what about you?” They asked. Logan mirrored their expression, holding up an identical folder. “Oh don’t think I don’t need one too. I finished everything that’s due in the next two weeks and I emailed all of our clients to let them know that we’re not accepting any projects until we get back. Thomas is going to monitor our emails until then. I’ve already talked to Emile, he’s giving Virgil two weeks off and his spring break starts in two days. I’m surprising my little starlight with a trip to London and I’m making him mine for good.” He said, pulling out a small velvet box. Joan jumped up. “Logan!” They laughed. “Buddy, I’m so happy for you!” Logan grinned sheepishly. “He still has to say yes…” “You two have been crazy about each other for eleven years. He’s going to say yes.” Joan grinned back, pulling Logan into a tight hug. "Alright, fine. Break time for both of us.” *** Logan rose an eyebrow as he walked into the back room of the jewelry store. Remy was screaming in Mandarin, he was pretty sure. It wasn’t until he knocked over a box of rings that Logan decided to step in. “Remy. Rem. Remy!” He shouted, grabbing Remy’s shoulder. He was met with a shout and a fist to his eye and yeah- maybe he shouldn’t have tried to intervene like that. “Ow…” He mumbled, his hand shooting up to grab his eye. “Merde! Bébé, Je suis tellement désolé!” Remy shouted, rushing over and grabbing Logan’s arm so he could check on his eye. “Are you... too angry for English right now, or?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow. Ow- Ow, no. That hurt. Don’t do that. “Sorry…” Remy mumbled. “Dee went on a date. He said it went really well and I just- I don’t know what to do about it. He said, walking over to the mini fridge and managing to find an ice pack. He wrapped it in his jacket and gently held it to Logan’s eye to make sure it didn’t swell. “Ow... just ask him out, Rem.” Logan offered, still wincing slightly from the pain. “I can’t- and you’re one to talk!” “Okay, Virgil is seven years younger than me!” “And Dee is six years younger than me, what’s your point?” Logan stopped, nodding a bit. “Touché” “Look- it’s just hard. He’s going to school and shit still, I own this place and I have to worry about it, what if I don’t have time to-“ Logan’s mouth fell open and Remy narrowed his eyes. “What?” “That’s how you have so much money!” “Shit-“ “You own the store!” He shouted. Remy sighed, then chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t tell any of them. I like keeping it a mystery, it’s fun.” “I won’t… are you okay though?” “I’ll be fine…” Remy sighed, leaning down to pick up Logan’s glasses off the ground. Thank god they weren’t cracked. “Wanna get something to eat and talk about it?” Logan asked. Remy paused for a second, then nodded. “Yeah… that would be nice.” He agreed. *** Seeing Patton hurt always made his heart ache. Patton was the first one who he ever got really close to besides his own parents. Logan never liked seeing anyone hurt, but when he was hurt Logan was hurt too. “Logi-Bear...” He whimpered. He was standing on his porch with a duffle bag over his shoulder and tears running down his cheeks. “What’s wrong, Small?” Logan asked, opening up the door and ushering Patton in. Luckily he was home for the weekend, he wouldn’t have wanted Patton to be upset alone or deal with this over the phone. Patton needed to be physically comforted. “My mom started screaming at me.” Patton sniffled, letting Logan usher him towards the couch. “She said she’s had enough of me messing around in cheer and she wants me to get more serious about school. She wants me to get into an Ivy League and she refuses to pay for school if I go with you…” Logan filled with rage. He pulled Patton into his arms and started rubbing his back, letting him cry into his shoulder. “Oh honey, what’s wrong?” He heard his mom coo. Logan looked up, seeing her kneeling in front of them. Logan’s parents adored Patton. They were very similar to him, loving and patient and supportive. Many times while he was growing up, Logan was stuck in the back seat of the car listening to them sing exciting, loud renditions of nursery rhymes. He'd whined for them to stop, but there was always a small, fond smile on his face. Patton’s dad was similar. He got along very well with Logan’s parents and the two had started to be a regular edition to their game nights and family dinners. But Patton's mom was cold, calculating. She was a CEO and accepted nothing but the best from Patton. Patton’s dad had left her when he was in sophomore year of high school, and the two of them shared custody. Sadly, Patton’s mom held the power because she was the one who had the money to pay for his school. Logan hated her. When they first met she was so judgmental towards him because he came over in his dirty baseball uniform. But then, she found out about all his achievements, including the fact that he was on track to being valedictorian of his class, and all of the sudden he was good enough for her son. At least she wasn’t homophobic. God, he didn’t think he’d be able to hold his tongue if she was homophobic on top of all of that. “My mom is making me quit cheer- and she won’t let me go to school with Logan!” Patton whined. Logan shook his head, squeezing him tightly. “No, you’re not quitting. If she wants to refuse to pay for your school, that’s fine. We’ll find you a scholarship for cheer just like the one I got for baseball. Cheer makes you happy, Small, you’re staying.” He said firmly. “And you’re coming to school with me. I know you don’t want to be alone.” His mom nodded along in agreement, taking Patton's hand and smiling. “We’re right behind you.” She smiled, then stood and pressed a kiss to both of their heads, her son and her ‘adopted’ son. “Why don’t you stay for dinner. I’ll make your favorite.” “I told Dad I’d go to his…” Patton sniffled, rubbing the tears from his eyes and lifting his head. “I’ll call him and invite him over!” She chirped happily as she headed into the kitchen. Logan smiled lightly, pressing his lips to Patton’s head. He loved his mom… “Don’t listen to her. She only sees one thing. All she cares about is how successful she is and that lost her the two best things she’d ever had.” Logan murmured. “You and your dad. You know your dad will be right behind you. You’re not like her, Small. You’re never gonna be like her.” He promised. Patton gave a little nod, snuggling closer and hiding his face in Logan’s chest. *** Logan was worried, to say the least. He always kept an eye on Dee, because he could tell that he needed guidance. He wasn’t exactly on the best terms with many people and he was scared that something would happen and undo all the progress that he made. They were hanging out at Dee’s apartment, waiting for the others to arrive, when Dee got the call. “Dad- no, I get it. Come on- I’m going to school! I’m doing what you want me to, what could I possibly- really? Really?! That’s it? That’s what it is? No- you know what, cut me off! Please! I’m begging you! I’m not going to lie to myself or anyone else. Yeah- that’s such a big loss. Tell Mom I said hi.” Logan sat up, frowning as Dee hung up the phone. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “My Dad is going to cut me off. He found out I’m with a guy.” Dee mumbled. Logan furrowed his eyebrows. He had so many questions- was Dee an inheritance baby? Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, that type? Was that how he could afford this apartment? “How did he find out?” “He saw the post that Patton put up with all of us. I was kissing...” “Oh...” Logan said slowly, and he started getting worried again. What if Dee held it against Patton. “It’s not his fault.” Dee shrugged. “I didn’t even think about it. And besides, I knew this would happen anyways. I’ve been saving all the money I’ve gotten from working for the past five years. I wasn’t paying for anything, he pays for the apartment and I have one of his credit cards for everything else.” He said. Logan nodded a bit. “Still, I’m sorry, Dee. Can I do anything for you?” “No... I don’t think so. I’m okay, Lo, really. I’m fine. I was never close to my parents, anyways.” “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. They’re supposed to love you and they’re cutting you off over something that you can’t control. It isn’t fair.” He said, holding out his arms. Dee gave a small smile, accepting the hug and into Logan’s shoulder. “Thank you...” He mumbled, as Logan rubbed his back lightly. “Of course. You’re part of our family, Dee. We take care of our family.” “Virgil’s right.” “Hmm?” “You really do have the biggest heart out of all of us.” Logan couldn’t stop the small smile that crossed his face.

[darriness]

Fic - Like You Wanna Be Loved 12/16

Author: darriness

Word Count: 1940

Summary: Honeymoon period

Author’s Note: Only three more chapters and the epilogue left! Thanks as always to my beta, @darrenismydarcy!

AO3 Link

Kurt has decided that his new favourite thing is kissing Blaine. Have you tried kissing Blaine? Kurt totally recommends it. Well actually, no, he doesn’t. Because Blaine is his. But just take his word for it, kissing Blaine is amazing.

He hums into the next kiss as he and Blaine sit on Blaine’s couch. They both have a leg pulled up underneath themselves in order to face each other more easily, and Blaine has one elbow propped on the back of the couch with his hand supporting his head.

They’ve been kissing for the better part of a half hour and it’s lazy, and sweet, and amazingly romantic. Kurt wants to drown in these feelings.

Blaine pulls back with a hum of his own and Kurt opens his eyes to find Blaine’s still closed, a small smile playing at his lips. Kurt beams at the expression and is about to grab Blaine’s shirt to pull him back in when Blaine’s eyes open and the other boy sighs.

“I’ve got to pick Annie up from soccer.” He whispers, regretfully and Kurt appreciates the quality of Blaine’s voice and his unwillingness to spoil the quiet they’ve been experiencing.

Kurt pouts, “Do you have to?” He asks with a hopefully note. Blaine just levels Kurt with a look, and Kurt sighs, “No, you’re right. You’ve got to go get her. Damn your responsible nature.” He makes sure to smirk and poke Blaine’s nose to show he’s kidding.

Blaine chuckles as he grabs Kurt’s hand before he can pull it back and brings it to his lips to kiss softly, “I don’t know. It wasn’t very responsible of me to suggest we skip glee. Especially to make out in my apartment.” He says with a wink.

Kurt laughs softly, even as he blushes, as Blaine continues to kiss his hand, “You have the best ideas.”

Blaine hums and lifts his eyebrows, “Well, I was tired of never getting any quality time with you.” He says and Kurt nods. He gets it. Since getting together almost three weeks ago, the pair have only been able to share brief moments alone. They can’t even be a couple at school, having both agreed that telling people outside of Kurt’s family would cause too many questions, especially with Blaine not being able to hang out with the group. Finn had been the biggest hurdle. They couldn’t very well keep it from him if Burt and Carole knew.

“You can’t tell anyone about me and Blaine.” Kurt had said, walking into Finn’s room after he’d told his family about him and Blaine at dinner.

Finn had furrowed his eyebrows from where he was sitting at his desk with his feet propped up on the wood, “Why?”

Kurt had sighed, “Because I’m already seen as a sideshow freak at school. Could you imagine what this would do?”

Finn pouted and shook his head, “You want to hide that you and Blaine are dating? So that you don’t get picked on?” Kurt had shrugged and nodded, it hadn’t been a total lie. Finn shook his head again, “But...we’d protect you guys!”

Kurt had smiled, fondly, at the other boy, “And while I appreciate that, I just don’t want you to have to.” He said.

Finn had sighed but eventually nodded, “All right. I won’t tell anyone.”

But Kurt knew, knowing Finn, as good intentioned as the tall boy may be, that their grace period would not last long.

Kurt has been trying to think of ways for him and Blaine to be alone more often, but so far, he’s come up short.

“But I really should go.” Blaine continues, “Do you...want to come? There will be less kissing but…”

“Believe it or not I’m not with you for the kisses.” Kurt says.

Blaine puts on a fake shocked expression, “I am offended you don’t like my kisses.” He says, and once again Kurt is laughing.

“Well, not ONLY for the kisses.” He amends and Blaine scrunches his face up adorably.

“So, do you want to come?” Blaine asks again, eagerly.

Kurt licks his lips, “Let me just call my dad to let him know.”

Blaine nods, easily, and rests his head on the back of the couch with his eyes on Kurt as he pulls out his phone and dials his father’s number, “Hey, buddy.” Burt says when he picks up.

“Hey Dad.” Kurt says, “Just wanted to say I’ll be home a little later tonight. Blaine and I are picking his sister up from soccer.”

“Are you ever not with Blaine?” Burt mumbles and Kurt laughs with a shrug his dad can’t see, “I’m going to need you home by six. Carole has a new recipe she’s been dying to try on us and I told her we would all be there.”

Kurt sighs, “Is this a healthy meal?”

Burt chuckles, “I thought we got over you policing my meals when I married Carole.”

“You’re my dad. I never stop worrying about you.” Kurt watches as Blaine smiles softly at him and he smiles back.

Burt laughs again, “And I love you for it even though it’s unnecessary. All right, dinner. Six. And bring this Blaine kid. I’d like to get to know him better or, you know, *meet him*.” He emphasizes and Kurt suddenly feels his throat close up.

“Ummm Dad, Blaine can’t come. He’s babysitting his sister tonight.” He says with what little air he can draw in and he watches as Blaine’s eyebrows furrow.

“Then have him bring his sister. Carole’s making more than enough. You’ve been dating this boy for almost a month and we haven’t met. Something is wrong with this picture.” Burt says.

Kurt winces and looks at Blaine, “Let me...call you back, Dad. I’ll talk to Blaine.”

“What’s there to talk about? He’s coming. So is his sister. See you at six. Love you.” Burt says and then the line goes dead.

Kurt pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it like it’s a foreign object.

“What was that all about?” Blaine asks.

Kurt answers without looking up from his phone, “My dad wants you...and apparently Bethany...to come to dinner tonight at my house...with my family.”

Blaine blinks at him owlishly for a moment and Kurt suddenly feels like everything is going to come crashing down, “But you obviously don’t have to!” He exclaims, “I’ll...make an excuse.”

“Hey, hey, no.” Blaine says, sliding closer to Kurt on the couch and grabbing his hands, “I would love to meet your family, it’s just...a little overwhelming.”

“And terrifying?” Kurt snarks.

Blaine chuckles, “Yeah a little terrifying. But from everything you’ve told me about your family? They sound like amazing people. Heck, them inviting Annie was enough to prove that they are amazing. I think we should go.”

Kurt pouts his lips thoughtfully, “Why do you call Bethany ‘Annie’?” He asks instead of answering.

Blaine’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before he shrugs, “She couldn’t say her own name when she was learning to talk. She called herself ‘Annie’ and so *I* started calling her ‘Annie’ because I thought it was funny and it just...stuck.”

Kurt smiles at Blaine, “Will you and Bethany come to dinner?” He asks.

Blaine smiles as bright as the sun, “Yes, we would absolutely love to.”

-- -- --

“But I’m all sweaty!” Bethany whines, tugging at her t-shirt, as the trio make their way up Kurt’s front steps. They hadn’t had time to go back to the apartment after picking up Bethany so the nine-year-old hadn’t been able to change after her soccer practice.

Blaine laughs, “You’re nine. Nine-year-old sweat is not a real thing.”

“Classy, Blaine.” Kurt says as he shoves Blaine playfully, causing the other boy to stumble slightly, “You smell and look lovely, Bethany.” He says to the girl who smiles shyly, “All right,” He says as they get to the door, “My dad will try to act tough but he’s really a big softy and yes...Carole really is that sweet.” He says before pushing the door open.

-- -- --

As the night progresses, Blaine finds himself amazed by the relationship between Kurt and his dad. Not only does Burt Hummel seem like an amazing human being in his own right, Kurt and his dad have such an easy relationship. So much so, that for the first time in seventeen years, Blaine is jealous.

He never had that kind of relationship with either of his parents (and don’t get him started on how close Kurt and Carole appear without even being biologically related), even before they left, and watching it play out before his eyes is both heartwarming and gut-wrenching.

At one point during dinner, Blaine is so caught up in listening to Kurt and his dad banter that he misses Kurt slipping his hand into Blaine’s under the table, “You okay?” Kurt asks, clearly having finished talking to his father.

Blaine nods, “Yeah, just...taking it all in.”

Kurt smiles and squeezes Blaine’s hand.

-- -- --

Kurt walks Blaine to his car after dinner. He can’t keep the smile off his face. Not only did his dad seem to like Blaine, but Carole had even offered to have Bethany at the house from time to time after Blaine mentioned how often his parents ‘asked him to babysit’.

“Please make sure to thank your dad and Carole for me again.” Blaine says as Bethany gets in the backseat and Blaine leans against the driver’s side door as Kurt sidles up in front of him.

“I will.” Kurt assures as he sways his way closer to Blaine and grabs the lapels of his jacket in both hands, “Thank you for coming tonight.”

Blaine smiles, “I love that we were able to come.” He whispers and then leans in to give Kurt a sweet kiss.

Kurt is sure the kiss is meant to be quick but suddenly Kurt’s arms are around Blaine’s shoulder’s and Blaine’s hands are on Kurt’s back as the kiss deepens. He feels Blaine’s tongue touch his own and can’t help but moan, forgetting where he is and who might be around.

The pair is rudely reminded of where they are, and who is around, though when Bethany exclaims, “I’d like to go to bed soon! I can’t believe I’M the one reminding you of my bedtime.”

Kurt and Blaine turn to find Bethany standing next to her open door and rolling her eyes even as she smiles and slides into the backseat. Blaine chuckles and Kurt sees his cheeks pinken even in the waning light of the day, “I guess we better go.” He says.

Kurt nods, not removing his arms from Blaine’s shoulders, “See you tomorrow morning?” He asks.

Blaine nods, “Totally. Though I’ll let you know if something changes and I won’t be there.”

Kurt nods and pulls Blaine in for one more, quick kiss before pushing away from Blaine and letting the other boy get into the car. He watches as the car pulls away, waving when Blaine and Bethany do from the car.

Kurt takes a moment to think about how much his life has changed in only a month. A month ago he was confused about the relationship between him and the new boy at school who acted strangely and didn’t seem to want to hang out, despite being extremely friendly at school. Now though, not only was he dating said boy, there were no secrets between them and now said boy had met his family.

Kurt wraps his arms around himself as Blaine’s car disappears and smiles to himself. Life is good.

[cynicalkairos]

Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting

CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Emma and Paul deal with Henry after the fight. Ted deals with his own problems.

Warnings: Alcohol, Language, Broken appendages, Angst, Mentions of Self-Destruction, Some Canonical Character Deaths

Time frame: Immediately after the previous chapter

Word Count: 1910

A/N: I forgot to say this last chapter, but this is definitely not canon-compliant because I made everyone alive (besides Sam cuz Sam’s a dick). It is also in kind of the same universe as Fucking Jackalopes, as that’s how I see them getting together. You don’t need to read it to understand what’s happening. Also, I apologize if they seem a bit out of character. This is just how I see them reacting to the situation at hand. Enjoy more angst.

Previous || Next

———

Once Emma led Henry to the couch to sit down, she went back to the kitchen to find the medical kit. Of course, he had to go and do something completely irrational. She was saddened by the fact that she wasn’t surprised by his outburst. Ted could be aggravating at times and Emma knew from experience that one of the professor’s biggest pet peeves was people interfering with his work without permission. The combination of the two ending in a fight was certainly inevitable. She didn’t know how the argument started in the first place, but it didn’t look good either way.

After her pondering, she noticed Paul leaning against the counter, sipping on his coffee. He looked at her and watched as she scrambled to find it, saying, “Bottom right cabinet.”

Emma looked back at him and nodded, moving to the aforementioned cabinet and finding it. She placed it on the counter closest to Paul and started to sort through the supplies quickly.

“So,” Paul started slowly. “Mind filling me in?”

Emma sighed exasperatedly and threw some bandages on the side. “The professor and Ted got in a fight.”

“Oh,” he nodded and went quiet for a moment, taking another sip. “Then what was that crash?”

“The professor slammed his hand into the counter.”

“Wow. Okay. I mean, I saw Henry’s hand and it— it looks bad, Emma.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Paul downed the rest of his coffee and sat the mug down next to him. He then turned completely, looking at the mess in front of Emma. “Em, he’s going to be okay.”

Emma stopped and released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her mind was racing at a million miles per hour, cycling through different ways to solve the problem. Emma and Henry never talked about it after the events happened, but she knew the extent of Henry’s destructive tendencies and she didn’t want anything to happen to him. But all of her worries were gone when she looked at him. 

“I— I know. I’m just worried about him.”

Paul took her hands in his hands. “I know, but he’ll get through this.”

Their tender moment was interrupted with a loud scream followed by a string of curses.

Emma and Paul’s eyes widened, recognizing the voice as the professor’s, before running into the next room.

Charlotte was sitting on the couch next to Henry, looking at him with a concerned look, just as he downed a shot of some unknown alcohol. He grimaced in pain.

“I told you it was going to hurt,” Charlotte told him, taking the glass from them.

“Good god, I neglected to think it would hurt that much.”

Emma ran over to him and crouched down beside him. “Professor, was that you?”

Henry swallowed and nodded. “Yeah...”

“What the fuck happened?”

Henry picked up the whiskey and poured another shot clumsily, spilling some over the side before saying casually, “Apparently, I really fucked up this time.”

Emma looked at Henry with a mixture of shock and horror after he downed the next shot and then she exchanged a look with Paul. The professor just simply looked up at them nonchalantly when they stared at him with a bizarre expression. “What?”

“Nothing— it’s nothing.” Emma shook it off and then looked at Charlotte. “How did you do that?”

Charlotte shrugged and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. “Sam would sometimes get hurt at work and we didn’t really have the money to go to the hospital, so I learned some medical stuff to help.”

Emma squinted and nodded. Definitely a normal thing to do as a couple. “Okay, well—”

“You know,” Charlotte interjected. “I once fixed Sam’s—“

“That’s great, Charlotte, but what happened to Henry?” Paul asked.

“Oh, he just dislocated his ring finger and— I’m not a doctor, but I think he might’ve either broken or fractured something in his hand and pinky.”

Emma sighed and looked over at Henry, who at some time left their presence and was in the kitchen taping his middle and ring finger together to create a sort of splint. He looked up and pursed his lips, before going to retrieve ice from the freezer. She went over and helped him when he struggled to remove the cubes from the tray. Emma didn’t know if it was from his alcohol consumption, the injured hand, or even both. He mumbled a quick expression of gratitude and went silent, looking dejectedly at the floor.

From even a quick glance at him, Emma noted how quiet he was. Henry was hardly quiet. Whether he was ranting about different aspects of Ted both before and after they got together or enlightening those around him with everything anyone needed to know about biology or musical theatre, the only thing in common between anything in that vast range was that he spoke about them with constant dramatics and enthusiasm. However, the man next to her looked anything but that. His back was slumped and his face and eyes were red from crying. His hand looked horrible, as the swelling engorged the outside of his right hand considerably, spreading to the center after some time. She could tell that the alcohol was setting in when he started to tap his uninjured fingers in a melodic rhythm.

To Emma, the most heartbreaking part was that, even with his height, he looked... smaller and perhaps broken. Emma feared what thoughts might be running through Henry’s head because she knew the extent of his self-destruction and slamming his hand on the counter was only the tip of the iceberg.

Emma placed the ice in a bag and handed it to him, putting the remaining back in the freezer. He took it and immediately rested the bag on his hand, never saying a word. She then stood in front of him and crossed her arms, loosely.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Emma asked quietly, earning a slow shake of the head from Henry. “That’s okay. Just know that you can talk to me, okay?”

Henry nodded again distantly. She was about to leave when he said, “Thank you, Emma. For everything.”

Emma smiled and flashed her signature finger guns at her, relieved to hear him chuckle. “No problem, Professor.”

“Henry— call me Henry. Everyone else does by this point.”

She looked at him for a moment. Despite how much she wanted to, Emma couldn’t. That name for him was one of the things that remained from the normalcy of a word without the apocalypse. She just shook her hand and said, “I don’t think I’m gonna, Professor.”

———

After everyone went to their separate ways, Ted finally emerged from the depths of the house and went down to the living room. The room was empty, except for Bill and Alice watching some movie.

He sighed in relief, not being able to handle dealing with Paul, Emma, and, most definitely, Henry. Then Ted walked across the room, heading directly for the bar.

Bill stood up at his entry and walked hastily toward him, blocking his path to the alcohol, saying, “Ted, that’s not a good idea.”

“I don’t think I asked for your fucking opinion, Bill. Now, get outta my way.”

“First of all, there’s a child in the room—”

“I’m seventeen, Dad!”

“Not helping, Alice. Second of all, I am not moving. Ted, you’re not in a good place—”

“Well, I’m gonna be once I get to the booze.”

“Think rationally. Henry wouldn’t want to see you—”

At this statement, Ted scowled and said, “You’re right. He doesn’t want to see me, so I don’t give two shits if he sees me blackout drunk at all.”

“Ted—”

“Did they make you stay here and guard the fucking bar, so I couldn’t get to it? Is that what you’re doing, huh?” Ted asked Bill. He couldn’t think of a single reason that Bill would prevent him from drinking. He remembered Bill’s refusal to drink due to him fulfilling the role of a designated driver, but that certainly wasn’t necessary now. Despite everything, Ted couldn’t decipher Bill’s intentions.

Bill furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No, they didn’t make me do anything. You’re my friend, Ted, and trying to get you to avoid doing something that you’ll regret later.”

“Well, guess what?” Ted huffed and looked him dead in the eye. “If you were a good friend, you would let me go get drunk off my ass right now.”

“No, Ted, that’s not—“

“You know what? Fuck this, Bill. Fuck this and this whole goddamn shit hole of a house.”

“Ted, you’re overreacting,” Bill said, placing a hand on Ted’s chest as an attempt to placate him.

Ted threw off Bill’s hand in disgust and anger, before storming back Bill and over to the alcohol. He was almost there when he heard a small voice say, “Ted?”

He turned around and saw Alice standing beside Bill. He frowned and furrowed his brow. Ted wanted to brush her off with blatant disregard and proceed to indulge in an alcoholic haze, but he couldn’t dismiss the look of sadness on her face.

“Please don’t do it. I know you want to, but you don’t need to.”

Ted laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

Alice pulled the sleeves of her sweaters down over her hands and began toying with the ends, looking down at them before saying, “The last time I saw Deb before I saw her as one of those zombie things was when we fought. I felt numb. I wanted to make things right with her, but I never really got the chance.”

“And what’s that supposed’ta mean to me?” Ted asked with a confused expression on his face.

“Well, I know Henry’s not dead, but my dad’s right. He wouldn’t want to see you like that. You can make your own choices and do whatever you feel is necessary. I just think that maybe this isn’t the best option.”

“What would be ‘the best option?’ Talking to him?”

“Yes. Exactly. I never got a chance to say goodbye to Deb and you’re lucky enough to have each other in this whole mess. Don’t let something so trivial like a fight get between you two.”

Ted stopped for a minute and just thought about what she said, while looking between her, Bill, and the bar behind him. In the back of his mind, he knew that Henry would never forgive himself for being what he believed was the cause of his regression into bad habits, but he couldn’t help remembering what Henry said, “All you do is eat, drink, and bother me.” Was he really that much of a nuisance that he irritated the man he loved the most? He knew the answer. The answer was clear and simple in his head. 

Yes.

Nevertheless, Ted masked his internal self-deprecation and plastered a smile on his face. “Okay, fine. You convinced me. What movie are you watching?”

Bill looked back at the TV and then at Ted. “High School Musical. Would you like to join us?”

Ted nodded and moved to sit near the corner of the couch. Throughout the movie, he would occasionally glance toward the bar and after everyone else was asleep when the movie was done, he went to the bar, selecting the strongest alcohol he could find and retreating to an empty and desolate room.

———

A/N: Hope you liked it!

[psychospeak-blog]

Won’t Go Slowly // 28

One // Two  // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen// Twenty // Twenty One // Twenty Two // Twenty Three // Twenty Four // Twenty Five // Twenty Six // Twenty Seven

A/N: Sorry it’s late!

One of the great things about working in academics, in your opinion, was the fact that you got extended holiday breaks.  You were spending most of your days hanging around the house with Marshall in your pajamas, going for a nice evening walk in the snow (usually still in your pajamas), taking breaks from the organizing and measuring of your office to look at baby furniture and watch movies, usually watching Grey's Anatomy over the phone with Tyler before bed.  Basically, the only thing you had to get dressed for these days was your prenatal yoga class and, even then, you were just wearing yoga clothes, so it was pretty much pajamas.

Today, though, however, you'd actually put clothes on because you and Marshall had a errand to run.  He was sitting in the passenger seat, sitting up like he was a human, and you got some interesting looks and laughs as you drove.  He looked so happy with himself though, that you couldn't resist taking a picture when you were at a stop light, sending it to Tyler.  Marshall started cowering, however, when you drove towards town, and you suspected he thought he was going to the vet again.

"It's okay, we're going someplace fun," you reassured him, although he still looked doubtful when you pulled into the parking lot.  You definitely knew that he'd been to a pet store when he was a puppy, because you'd been with him a couple of times when Tyler needed to grab dog food, but you weren't sure if he'd actually been to a pet store as an adult dog who you couldn't pick up anymore.  The good thing was that he was pretty well-behaved and even-keeled, so you biggest worry would probably be him taking out a shelf of items with his wagging tail.  

It was pretty humorous watching his eyes widen once you opened the door to the store as if he'd never seen such an incredible place before.  He looked up at you, like he wasn't quite sure he was even allowed to go inside but, once you told him he could, he stepped inside and started sniffing immediately.

"Hi," the girl behind the counter said brightly, her eyes cast downwards, "What's your name?"

You answered for him, and her eyes flicked up to yours again.  "Can he have a treat?"

When he heard the word 'treat', Marshall immediately sat down, and then started swiping at the air, trying to show off his ability to shake a paw.  "Yes," you said with a laugh, and she came out from around the counter, crouching down in front of him.

"I didn't have to ask you to sit," she said, giving him two treats, which he took happily.  Afterwards, she asked you what if you needed help finding anything, and you said you told her you were just looking for Christmas presents, so she left you to browse.  

You went to the Christmas section first, because they needed Christmas toys, in your opinion. You chose a Christmas tree that looked pretty chew proof for Gerry, and a soft reindeer for Marshall because he liked to cuddle with his toys. You were picking out a penguin with a squeaker for Cash, when you noticed a box of candy cane dog treats.  And then you got an awesome idea, and added it to the collection that you were creating.

And then you went to look in the regular toy section, picking Gerry out a puzzle toy that you could put treats inside that would hopefully keep him occupied because he'd apparently been having some....behaviour issues lately, and you found a toy that looking like skipping rocks for the pool or lake for Cash (and that Tyler would probably enjoy, too).  You were just deciding on a ball for Marshall that you could kick and throw and that also floated on water, when your phone pinged with a text from Tyler.

Tyler: Are you taking my dog on a date?

Tyler: Make sure he pays

Tyler: He'll probably try to get in your bed after just fyi

You laughed to yourself, and then you realized, that while you had a collection of presents for his dogs, you had absolutely no idea what to get for him.  Nothing seemed quite right, and you wondered if maybe you should try to do things differently this year.  You'd already gotten gifts for the pups, who were really easy to impress, and you knew Tyler had stuff for the baby.  So, maybe, you could just exchange Christmas presents between your "kids" for this year.  It wasn't like there was anything either of you needed, anyways.  

With your six toys and the holiday dog treats, you went to the check out counter, the woman from earlier before looking over all of your purchases and smiling down at Marshall.  "Someone's a lucky boy," she said, as she started to ring everything through.

"Oh, they're not all for him," you said, "For his brothers, too."

"How many brothers does he have?"

"Two," you answered, and before she could ask said, "All labs."

"Three labs?" she asked, and you noticed her glance at your belly, so you instinctively rubbed it, "that must be a busy household."

You opened your mouth, and then shut it again, because you weren't about to start explaining that they weren't your dogs.  "It is," you said, "But there's a lot of love, too."

"I'll bet," she said, bagging up all your purchases.  "Have a Merry Christmas, guys."

You were so overtaken by the Christmas spirit and all the decorations at the shopping plaza that you decided to stop at Starbucks for a holiday themed drink, and got a puppaccino for Marshall, which he devoured in the car.

When you got home, you contemplated calling Tyler, but you couldn't remember whether he had a game tonight or not.  And then you remembered the internet.

You crashed on the couch as the phone was ringing, to which Tyler answered, "So, did he kiss you?"

You didn't know what he was talking about, until you remembered the text he sent you in the store.  "Yes," you answered, "With tongue."

"That's aggressive," Tyler said, and then, "Hang on, babe, one sec."

You were expecting him to set the phone down while he did something, but instead you heard him say in a stern voice.  "Gerry, stop that.  Those are expensive shoes."

You heard a shuffling noise and then a sigh.  "Sorry," he said, "someone is acting like a two year old."

"Well, isn't he?"

"Not in dog years," he said, and then, in his dog voice, "Oh, and now you want to cuddle with me, huh? Are you sorry for what you did?"

You shook your head, laughing.  "I had a question," you said, "About Christmas."

"Santa's real," Tyler said, "Don't let anybody tell you otherwise."

You snickered, laying back on the couch and running a hand through your hair.  "No, I was wondering if maybe you and I could not exchange Christmas gifts this year?"

" Why?" Tyler whined.

" Because, I know you already got stuff for the baby..."

"So? You always get presents for me and the dogs.  I'm not allowed to get you a present, too?"

" Tyler, I just don't think we should --""

"Well, it's too late," he said, "I already have your present."

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling you," he said, "That'd defeat the whole purpose of a present."

Obviously.  But you really just needed an idea of what it might be so you could get a comparable gift.  "Is it something for the baby?"

"Mmmnope, that's separate," he said, "Well, kind of, I guess, in a way."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you might enjoy it while you're pregnant.  But it's just for you," he said, "And it's not what you might think, either."

"What?" You questioned.  You definately hadn't hinted that there was anything you wanted because there wasn't.   

"I mean, I understand if you want a vibrator, but I don't really feel comfortable buying that for you.  It's kind of personal thing."

"Tyler!" You yelled, in shock that he had just said that.  But, in all honestly, you shouldnt be that suprised. "Seriously...."

He laughed loudly.  When he was done, he said, "It's just a little something.  You don't have to freak out or anything."

You sunk back into the couch, even more if possible.  "I don't know what to get you."

"You don't have to get me anything for Christmas," he said, "you can just get me twice as many presents for my birthday, it's fine."

"If you're getting me something for Christmas, then I'm getting you something for Christmas," you said, "What do you want?"

"A really big hug?"

"Tyler..."

"Uhh..."  he make a noise like he just fell back into the couch.   "Honestly, I'd be really happy if you baked me some cookies. Like, a whole tin I can take back with me and not have to share."

You were about to respond when you heard a knocking noise, and then a ruffle of paws against the floor.  "Hey, babe, I gotta head out for dinner," he said, and then after you said "okay", he added, "With some of the guys.  I'll call you later, okay?  If Gerry doesn't eat my entire house while I'm gone.  Cash, you're babysitting."

After you said goodbye, you laid your head back, looking up at Marshall sitting at the under end of the couch, staring at you.  "What do you think I should get for your Dad?" you asked, and he just tilted his head, still staring at you.  You reached up, scratching him behind the ears.  "Well, you're no help at all."

It seemed impossible, this year, for some reason.  Nothing quite seemed to fit quite right, or be the right combination, and then you realized why.

What did you get for the man who had already given you the best gift ever?

Nothing seemed like it would ever be enough.

**

"C'mon," you said to Marshall, opening the  door to the car so he could jump out, grabbing the box of candy cane shaped dog biscuits, ready to enact the plan that had come to you in the pet store.  You grabbed the tray with your peppermint mocha and Marshall's puppaccino to set the Christmas spirit even more, unlocking the door to Tyler's house with one hand, setting everything down, and then going around to turn on lights.  And turn on some Christmas music.

"Are you going to help me with the tree?" you asked him, but he just sat down and then pawed your leg, and you realized he just wanted his treat.  So, you gave it to him, while you ventured into the garage, realizing that this was going to be the hard part.  You found the box with the tree first, realizing that it was way to cumbersome for you to lift by yourself right now.  So, you took piece by piece out, setting them in the living room, while Marshall was licking his container of whipped cream across the floor.  You might have created a bad habit.

You huffed as you used your legs to push the couch out of the way just enough that you could set the tree up, Marshall looking at you like you were crazy for moving the furniture. Finally, it was out of the way enough that you could begin setting the tree up, standing back and taking a sip of your Peppermint Mocha every now and then, singing along with the music as you fluffed the tree up.  Once you were satisfied with it, you plugged in the lights, and then went back into the garage for the boxes of decorations, bringing them up to the living room.  On your last pass, you noticed through the window that it had started to snow again, so you opened the garage door, deciding to put your car in there while you were here so you wouldn't have to wipe all the snow off it afterwards.  

Marshall was waiting for you at the door when you went back inside, and you leaned down to pet him.  "I'm not leaving you here, don't worry."

He left and came back with a rope a moment later, pushing it against your leg, and you halfheartedly reached down and tugged it a little, knowing that if you went hard, he could pull you over.  You also realized that Tyler hadn't really packed any toys for him, probably because he had thought he was hurt so, other than the couple of tennis balls you had around your house, Marshall hadn't had any toys, so you made a mental note to take a couple with you when you left.

You opened the bins, taking a look at what you had to work with, and then you noticed the Dallas Stars ornaments sitting on top, and remembered that you thought he had a game for tonight.  You turned on the TV, flicking through the channels and muting it, so it didn't compete with the holiday music you had going.  You finally found it, and saw the game was still scoreless.  St. Louis, that's where it was.

His ornaments were kind of a hodgepodge, probably because he didn't always spend Christmas here. There were the Dallas Stars ornaments, a couple of hockey related ornaments you recognized that his Mom had given him when he was a kid, and quite a few dog ornaments, that probably his mom had given him at some point as well, as well as several of those cinnamon ornaments that you'd made together your second year of college, when you'd got yourself a mini Christmas tree for your apartment but didn't to spend money on ornaments.  The rest was a mix of plain Christmas balls, like he'd just bought them at the last minute to fill in all the holes.  They didn't even match. You made do, as best as you could, thankful that the lights were white so there wasn't a huge clash.  You were almost done, when you found something hard, wrapped in tissue at the bottom of the box, and you unwrapped it to find an ornament, one of which you had very similar, that you made in the ceramics portion of art in eight grade.  His was, well, it was absolutely horrible looking, paint swiped across it at the last minute, and you remember Kirsten mercilessly making fun of him for it, even before they were together, and before you really knew him.  You hung it on a branch, right front and centre. And then you dug into the last  wrapped item, but it fell out and you started laughing immediately, half bending and half squatting to pick up the tiny curve of wood.   You remembered it, when he was taking this woodworking class in eleventh grade, and he'd been excited because he had this elaborate plan to jigsaw a skate out of wood.  But the skate, as he showed you, kept getting smaller and smaller, and he ended up having to form it into a hockey stick, and he ended up failing the assignment, and you'd had to bite your lip not to try and laugh when he showed you his finished project. His mom, if you remembered, said something like "that's great, honey," when he showed it to her, and the both of you had exchanged a look like it wasn't.

You hung that on the tree, too, and were about to go about your project, when you realized that Marshall was sniffing the box of treats that you had bought, and you had a sudden vision of the tree toppling over as the dogs attacked it, especially with how Gerry was apparently acting.  You sat down on the couch to rethink your plan, noticing that it was snowing even harder now, and you really, really were not in the mood to drive home while it was snowing.  So, ordered yourself a pizza and went to Tyler's room, rummaging through his drawers to find yourself a pair of pj pants and a shirt. And then you found a string of garland, working on weaving it through the stairs, hanging the candy cane dog treats off it when you were done.  Marshall was very curious about what you were doing, so you had to instruct him not to eat all the treats right now.

It looked pretty great, in your opinion, when you were done.  The only thing you hadn't done was hung the star, because you'd have to stand on something to do so, and you didn't want to do that when your centre of gravity was constantly changing.  But, at least his tree would be up and decorated when he got home for the holidays.

You ate your pizza as you watched the end of the game, finally crawling into bed with Marshall afterwards, arranging a variety of pillows around you, with him curled up by your legs.  Both of you fell asleep pretty quickly, and you could hear Marshall start to snore just as you drifted off, too.

It was so much lighter in the room when you woke in a daze, realizing that what woke you was Marshall growling by your feet.  You reached your hand out to pet him, thinking he was dreaming, but his head was up, and he was staring at the half open door growling. You didn't hear anything, other than snow falling off the tree outside.  "Marshall," you said lightly, frowning when he bared his teeth, not even looking at you, "It's okay."

All of a sudden, he lept out of bed, barking like you'd never heard him bark before, pushing past the door, and  then you heard a voice. "It's just me."   It startled you, but it seemed familiar, and then you placed it, flying out of bed yourself because you could hear Marshall still barking and a commotion on the stairs.

"Marshall!" you yelled, throwing open the door, and seeing Tyler's Dad standing there petting Marshall now, who had calmed, although the hair on the back of his neck was still standing up, a remnant of him trying to make himself more intimidating.

When Marshall saw you, he came back over to you, and you crouched down, petting him, "It's okay," you said, and he licked you on the face, and then you asked Paul, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Nah, he was fine once he realized who he was," he said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.  Tyler didn't tell me you were here."

"Oh, he doesn't know I'm here," you said, and then you cringed, "I mean, he gave me a key.  He just didn't know I was here, tonight."

He laughed, "It's his house, you don't have to explain it to me," he said, and you stood back up slowly, your legs feeling shaking when you realized you that you were standing here, in front of Tyler's father wearing Tyler's clothes, with a pretty noticeable baby bump.  And you had no idea what to say.

"You're...." Paul said, his eyes eyes drifting downwards and your hand going over your belly, because there was no way of hiding it. "I didn't know you were....expecting."

Shit, shit.  Shit, shit, shit.  

"Yeah," you answered, "Umm...Tyler was going to tell you over Christmas."

He nodded a little, looking like he was deep in contemplation.  "So, you're....living here now?  With Tyler?  I didn't see your car or anything."

"Oh, no, no," you said quickly, "I just came to set up the tree.  My car's in the garage. It was snowing, so I didn't want to drive."

He smiled then, for a moment, "That's just what I was coming over to do this morning."

"Oh sorry, I didn't realize."

"No, no, I'm sure you could do a better job of it than I could anyways," he smiled, "I just wanted it to be here for when Tyler got home."

You stood there for a moment, just looking at each other and then you realized the reason he thought you were living there, was because he thought the baby you were having was Tyler's.  Which it was.  But only kind of.

"It's his sperm!" you blurted out.  And then you realized you just said the word 'sperm' again, to Tyler's father, and you shook your head.  

"What?" Paul asked.

"I...I wanted to have a baby," you said, "And Tyler donated sperm.  At the clinic.  We went to the clinic a lot."  You realized you were rambling now, trying to make sense of anything, and avoid telling him all the details.

"It's not his responsibility," you tried, rubbing your hand over your belly more.  

"Oh," he said simply, and then he scratched the back of his head, much like Tyler did, "Well, I should go.  Let you go back to sleep."

"It's okay," you said.  It wasn't like this was your house anyways.

"Nah, I just came to do that job anyways," he said, looking like he was thinking about going, "You're not, you weren't planning on staying here tonight were you? I'm sure you can, I'm not saying you should go."

"I was going to go home," you said, and then added with a laugh, to make him feel like he wasn't putting you out, "There's no groceries here, anyways."

"Oh," he said, "Do you need groceries? I can..."

"Oh no, I've got plenty.  At home."

"Okay," he said, turning away and then back again, like he didn't know quite what to do.  "I'll just shovel the driveway for you before I go."

"Oh, that's okay," you said, leaning down to pet Marshall, hoping to steal some of his calm.  "You don't have to do that."

"It's no trouble," he said, "you should be safe."

You knew you weren't going to convince him otherwise, so you accepted, a mix of 'take care''s and 'it was nice to see you"s as he left, and you ran your hand over your face as soon as the door closed in embarrassment.  And then you realized you weren't even wearing a bra, either.  Great.

You took a long shower, needing to completely wash all the awkward off you, realizing that you'd need to call Tyler and tell him, but you couldn't face that right now.  Maybe after breakfast.  

After you got out of the shower though and realized that Paul was no longer in the driveway, you went back into Tyler's room and your phone was lit up with a text.

Tyler: HAHAHAHAHA

You groaned, focusing on making yourself pancakes , and feeding Marshall, and then  trying to enjoy said pancakes.

It was probably 40 minutes later when your phone rang, and you answered it with a heavy "hi", to which Tyler responded with giggles.

"I can't believe my Dad walked in on you," he took a break to breathe, "in my bed. And that Marshall tried to attack him."

"It's not funny," you said.  It was mortifying is what it was.  "And I was not in your bed.  I was in the hallway outside your bedroom."

"But you were in my bed," he said, "Why were you in my bed?"

"Tyler," you started.

"I gave you a key, you're allowed to use it," he said, still sounded amused by the whole thing.  "I'm just curious, why were you in my bed?"

"I...." you looked down at the dog at your feet, and remembered not to give away the whole surprise, "I came over to get some toys for Marshell and it started snowing so I just decided to sleep here."

If he didn't believe you, he didn't let on.  "Were you naked?"

"No, I was not naked," you said, "I was in your clothes.  Which is worse."

Tyler laughed.  "How is that worse?"

"Because it's like...it's like we're sleeping together."

"Well, we did sleep together," he said.

"Yes, but I don't want your Dad to know that," you said, and then you remembered there were so much more important things: the pregnancy.  The baby.  "What did he say?"

"Uh...I'm not sure if he really believed you," Tyler said, "Or me.  I might have to show him the paperwork."

"Oh god," you muttured, sitting down at the kitchen table again.

"Babe, it's fine," Tyler said, "Honestly.  Honestly, he's probably just glad I got someone pregnant on purpose."

You made a small noise because telling everyone was a lot, and you didn't expect to be so involved in the process.  Especially when Tyler had said it was his responsibility.

"Don't worry, I'll fix it," he said, "You're really making this easy on me, you know."

"Hmm?"

"You tell everyone, and then I just get to swoop in and smooth everything over," he said.

"Okay,  I did not tell your mother, you let it slip."

"You told her you were pregnant," Tyler said, "that helped.  You wanna tell my sisters, too?"

"No."

"Please?" He asked sweetly.

"Not a chance."

[rorypcarson]

it’s hope??? again??? yes u read that right here’s my son rory love us this blog is so new so nothing will be in the tags i hate everything lmao anyway like this or message me to plot ily bye

triggers: car crash, drunk driving, stroke, abortion, death, depression ( mention )

╰☆╮ DACRE MONTGOMERY ─ RORY PEARSON identifies as CISMALE and uses HE/HIM pronouns. they’re a YOUTUBER/MUSICIAN, and they’re only TWENTY-TWO ! they’re said to be +CANDID, but also -DESPONDENT. i guess that’s why they’re known as THE ACCIDENTAL BILLIONAIRE in the tabloids. ( kendall schmidt, logan henderson )

did i use two btr bois as his vc??? u bet ur ass i did & i have no regrets ok anyway on to my son 

background: 

rory pearson was born and raised in fairhope, alabama.  his parents were teenagers when they had him and lived with his grandma scarlett.  his mom jean marie was ousted by her parents when she told them she was pregnant and his dad’s mom took her in with open arms.  

of course his grandma wasn’t going to let them live in the same room in her house without being married, especially with her grandbaby on the way.  so after talking with them, and his parents agreeing, they went to the courthouse and got married three months before rory came into the world.  

rory was born on april 20th, 1996 and he was without a name for six days.  his parents couldn’t decide so they named him rory wyatt vincent pearson.  he was always told that since his parents couldn’t decide on naming him after jean marie’s grandfather or greyson’s father, they picked a third name and gave him both of their names for middle names.  

when rory was two and a half years old ( not really half, it was june ?? ) his parents graduated high school and went out for a party.  unfortunately their designated driver wasn’t so sober and the group of four recent graduates crashed into another car.  

his father was in the passenger’s seat and died on impact, his mother was pronounced dead in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.  

scarlett legally adopted rory after that and raised him.  she always told him stories of his parents, but avoided telling him anything about what happened to them for as long as she could.  

he was ten years old when he saw the memorial and recognized his parents from their yearbook photos and came home asking about it.  

honestly this is jumping ahead a bit but rory didn’t learn to drive until he was twenty years old.  and even now, esp now, since he lives in nyc he doesn’t drive often. 

okay when he was seventeen years old he met bethany in an airport.  he was on his way to a college interview on a connecting flight that got cancelled due to weather conditions.  they were both sitting in the same terminal so they got to talking and !!! hit it off

bro legit asked her out 5 seconds after their flights were announced to be back on

“hi yeah we just met but we’ve got two hours before your flight leaves so wanna go grab some food with me???” 

and the rest was legit history

he can remember every moment of their conversation and first date like it was yesterday. oh my god he was SO IN LOVE 

the human embodiment of the hearteyes emoji

and so the pair stayed in touch and went on a couple more dates and the boy was so gd smitten that grandma scarlett took his phone during one of their phone calls and was like “darlin if you don’t fly down here to meet me i’m going to think my grandbaby is just talking to a complete stranger on here.” 

and then bethany flew down and met scarlett and she was so excited because !!!! her grandson had a girlfriend !!!! 

grandma scarlett was the biggest supporter of anything rory did in life oh my GOD 

at his graduation it was just grandma scarlett in the crowd for him but boy did it sound like the whole crowd was cheering for him when his name was called 

anyway flash forward to he’s in college and he’s moved away to be closer to bethany.  which should not have affected his life but when he was looking at colleges fr fr after acceptances the boy chose one closer to his girl

we love a softie ok 

anyway on bethany’s 19th birthday he took her to an airport and was surprising her with a trip to disney that he’s been saving up for for MONTHS !!!! 

and at the airport he was like all jittery and nervous bc in his pocket he had an engagement ring but he did his bEST to hide it all from beth bc surprises 

not that he planned the whole thing ( he did ) but it just so happened they were in the same restaurant waiting for their flight as their first date way back when

and in the middle of dessert, the waiters singing happy birthday this boy attempts to be sly and gets down on one knee.  but didnt realize there would be someone coming up behind him to keep up the singing and he ..... kinda caused a mini avalanche of people

and he apologized and is like still on one knee and now he’s looking at bethany with a BRIGHT RED face and he had had this whole speech worked out in his mind ok but all that comes out is, “i love you, please marry me?” in like an awkward stutter because he just TOOK OUT AN ENTIRE WAITSTAFF 

somehow bethany said yes ??? and they’re engaged ??? 

oh and someone got the whole thing on camera and like that happened 

the video skyrocketed to the most viewed video entitled “i witnessed an awkward proposal???? and she still said yes?????” 

which is also lowkey how he started his youtube channel ?? 

“hi yes it’s me the guy who proposed to an olympic athlete while taking out a whole waitstaff?? i dont know why she said yes either but i love her??”

and for a long time it was mainly vlogs of him and beth and him and his friends 

okay so fast forward and rory’s graduated college with a degree in history education bc he wants to be a teacher and he’s got to fly back to alabama and miss his graduation because he got a phone call and grandma scarlett had a stroke

so the boy is freaking out but it’s fine !!! grandma goes home and he winds up staying down and now he’s trying to figure out how to be with beth, find a job in ny, but also take care of his grandma 

for a while he toys with the idea of moving grandma up to new york and helping her find a place.  so he goes back to new york to talk to beth about it and he’s freaking out and he gets home and she tells him she’s pregnant

of course he never expected to be like 20 and having a baby but ??? whatever.  now he’s freaking out because his grandma is not doing good and he’s worried about her and now he’s got to figure out what to do with a BABY ???

and bethany then tells him she wants to get an abortion and rory’s already stressed and so he flips bc of emotions and they get into a huge fight and it just winds up with him leaving and heading back to alabama and bethany in their apartment  

so rory goes home to alabama and he keeps getting notifications on social media about bethany so he just shuts his phone off and i’m talking like he goes days without touching his cell phone.  he takes a hiatus from youtube because he’s freaking out and 

two months after he’s home he seemed like scarlett was doing better so he took her to a party in town to see some of her friends and at the party scarlett had another stroke.  

she died six days later, never waking up from the medically induced coma they put her in.  

flash forward a couple more weeks after he’s working with lawyers for his grandma’s estate and rest assured scarlett pearson had nothing but her house, her garden, and her beat up corvette that her deceased husband wyatt bought her for their anniversary one year

so its a shocker to find out that scarlett pearson was worth 43.7 billion dollars 

and now that money all goes to rory because he’s her only living heir ???

so rory gets this BOATLOAD of money and the local newspaper picks it up which brings it to the national news and somehow it made international news

“local alabama boy from youtuber to billionaire overnight” 

so he kept his grandma’s house in alabama because ..... he can’t seem to let that go and why should he ?? its a good house and holds a lot of memories

but he does in fact buy a brownstone in manhattan its HUGE and he doesn’t have enough things to fill the whole space up but ??? he’s working on it slowly. 

he created a makeshift recording studio in one of the upstairs rooms and has been working on music, which is new to him ?? he was always a bit artistic but never sure enough to like try it out

oh and he’s returned to youtube, he’s got a decent following i guess 

i mean lbr he’s hot ???? and sings ??? so ??? ya know 

personality: 

okay so this is long already so im gonna keep this short n sweet

rory is a sweet boy, never really an athletic type always more focused on his studies than sports.  

spent a lot of time with his grandma and he’s very easily attached to people he’s close to.  not exactly clingy, but it’s really hard for him to let people go i guess ??? 

used to love shows like survivor and big brother and amazing race. always toyed with the idea of applying to be on amazing race but he never had anyone who would go with him, or could for that long.  

he’s a real kind hearted guy and clumsy as fuck

a bit awkward when you first meet him but ??? you warm up quickly and so does he

clumsy af as noted earlier 

kind of depressed ??? idk he’s not seeing anyone for it but post losing beth, his grandma, and like the possibility of a family in the future he’s kinda ..... morbid 

puts on a happy front for youtube

oh and he does a podcast talking about stuff with his friends idk what exactly but ?? its prob music and movies lbr

connections: 

best friend(s)--self explanatory; people who he gets along with and they’re like his ride or dies.  

nerd friends--give him someone to geek out with please he’s SUCH A NERD !!!! or someone who likes learning random things he’s got u 

musical friends--people who he met through starting to delve into music 

youtube community--give me people who !!! met through youtube and often do colabs together.  probably ppl who were shooketh when he came back and was like “bro i have 40 billion dollars????”

wealthy friend(s)--give me someone who will teach this boy how to be wealthy ??? like cause he knows nothing about that he struggled a lot growing up and with college and several part time jobs he doesnt know how to like party or anything 

idk anything else 

[notstars-doors]

Somebody Told Me

“Dick Grayson has a new boyfriend. Or does he?”

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806868/chapters/36790545

~~~~

Welp, it's a fake dating AU. I caved.

Hoping to make this one a bit of a slow burn too. It's gonna be a bumpy ride ;)

(sidenote:  written for @twinkothydrake​ because we’re both w e a k for best friends to lovers AND fake dating. Thanks to @1captainjordan4 for the plot, wouldn’t have gotten this far without ur great ideas ;) )

Enjoy!

~~~~

Ch. 1

“Did you seriously just order your third milkshake?”

“Yes?”

“Dude.”

“What? I’ll pay for it.”

“That’s not the – y’know what, I’m not gonna bother.”

Wally throws a french fry at Dick in retaliation for the sass, who snatches it out of the air a few inches from his face with a grin.

“I need the calories!”

“In the form of milkshakes?”

“Yes!”

“I feel like there are better ways to get your calorie intake.”

“Easier? Maybe. Better? Not a chance.”

Dick rolls hi s eyes, dunking the caught French fry in some ketchup before popping it in his mouth. “You need professional help.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and for the first time in weeks, the two of them have managed to wrangle their schedules into some semblance of order to spend a day together. It’s weird, not being able to spend time with Wally these days. With Wally in college and Dick himself finishing up high school, they’ve got so much on their plates that they never get to see each other outside of missions. As great as missions are, sometimes you just need to shoot the shit with your best friend.

Especially when your best friend is as hot as Wally West.

Dick shakes that thought out of his mind. That is not a place he wants to go right now, with Wally sitting right there – looking like red headed Adonis with an easy smile and kind green eyes and-

Shit.

“-and you know what, I checked with Uncle Barry, and the sugar goes through me so fast that I don’t have to worry about diabetes or anything like that, so you should really-… Dude, you good?”

Dick blinks. Wally’s giving him a concerned stare, an eyebrow raised in question. Dick shakes his head again, realizing Wally’s been talking this entire time and he’s just been watching him like a lovesick idiot.

He is not a lovesick idiot.

Dick licks his lips, tasting salt and the sweetness of ketchup as he tries not to swallow his own tongue in embarrassment.

“Yeah, just trying not vomit over your eating habits.”

Wally scowls, tossing another fry at him. This one hits Dick square on the nose, and Wally whoops in victory, fists in the air. Dick rolls his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh that’s really one of relief.

“So, catch me up!” Wally leans back on his side of the old diner booth, resting an elbow on the edge of the cushion. “What’s the life of Dick Grayson been like for the last two months?”

“Honestly? Pretty boring.” Dick shrugs. He fiddles with the big paper straw in his own milkshake, swirling around the last dregs of pink foam at the bottom of the glass. “Senior year is kinda kicking my ass, so Bruce has been steadily shoving that stick further up his own because of it. He’s called me off a couple patrol shifts recently because exams are coming up, which is completely unnecessary.”

Wally frowns. “You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, just a matter of multitasking.”

“You sure?”

“I can handle it.” Dick slides the glass to the edge of the table to be picked up by a server. “What about you? The end of your sophomore year, how’s that going?”

It’s Wally’s turn to shrug. “Not much to tell, really. Second year isn’t as interesting as first.”

“No house fires?”

“Nope.”

“Keg parties?”

“With my roommates? Nah.”

“Walks of shame?”

Wally’s face drops into a deadpan. “I’m a physics major.”

Dick cocks an eyebrow. “With the body of superhero.”

“That no one ever sees because I’m a physics major.”

Dick snorts, tossing another French fry in his mouth. “You need to get out more, dude.”

Wally scoffs. “Says the biggest fuckin’ hermit I know.”

“Excuse me!” He smacks his palm against his chest in mock offense. “Haven’t you read the Gotham Gazette? Or Seventeen magazine? I spend every night out on the town, going wild with several lovely ladies on my arms, don’t’cha know.”

“You?” Wally bursts into laughter, arms folding on the table and burying his face in the crook of his elbow and his body shakes in hysterics.

“I’m a Teen Heartthrob.”

“Pfft-”

“I’m Gotham’s second-most eligible bachelor.”

“Second to who?”

“Bruce.”

“Ew!”

“Yeah.”

Wally shudders, sitting up straight and nodding a ‘thank you’ to their server as she places his new vanilla milkshake in front of him. “That’s… wrong, on so many levels.”

“Yeah well, I’m eighteen now.” Dick shrugs again, not missing the flirtatious smile the girl sends his way as she picks up his empty glass. “They can say what they want. Not that they were stingy with their words before.”

“Gross…” Wally sticks his tongue out in distaste before taking a sip. “I don’t know how you deal with being a… celebrity. It’s weird.”

“You get used to it.”

“I never could.”

“It’s not like you haven’t shown up in the tabs with me before.”

Wally, to Dick’s surprise, chokes on his milkshake, sputtering white liquid over his side of the table. Dick recoils from the onslaught, sliding their fries out of the way in the same motion.

“What?!”

Dick laughs and rips a few napkins out of the silver container at the side of the table, wiping up it down as the ginger stares him incredulously. “Dude, you’re a mess.”

“Wha- how?” Wally blinks a few times, eyes wide in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got milkshake dribbling down your chin.”

“Dick!”

“It’s gross.”

Wally snatches a napkin out of his hand, wiping it over his face haphazardly. How Dick fell in love with this idiot, he’ll never know.

“Would you please explain to me how this happened.”

“Dude, you’re my best friend. People see us together in public, it happens.”

“Yeah, but tabloids?”

“Do you not use social media ever?”

“Physics major!”

“Not an excuse!”

Wally flops his head down on the table with a ‘smack’, barely missing the puddle of milkshake on his right. Dick rolls his eyes. They’ve had this conversation one too many times before.

“What… what do they say?”

“Well-” Dick runs a hand through his hair, wondering where to start. “Most of the time people think we’re dating.”

“Really?”

“I mean I came out a couple years ago and we usually spend a lot of time together. It’s not an unreasonable conclusion.”

Wally’s quiet for a moment, then lifts his head to give Dick a questioning look. “But they also write about you being with a bunch of girls?”

“I never said they were smart.”

He snickers, resting his chin on the tabletop. “You got me there.”

Dick picks up a few more French fries and stuffs them into his mouth, then slides the basket under Wally’s nose. “Here, finish this. We’ve got the rest of the day, let’s not waste it.”

“But my milkshake!”

“Chug it.”

“But-! Brain-freeze!”

“Don’t be a baby.”

Wally pouts, then proceeds to shove the rest of the fries in his mouth and start slurping down the milkshake. Luckily, he’d already drank (and spat up) half of it, so it only takes him a few seconds to finish.

Dick slides a fifty under the salt shaker, knowing it’ll cover more than both bills combined and probably make their server’s day. Wally cradles his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose as a pained grimace crosses his face.

“Urgh… I can’t believe you made me do that.”

“Oh, because you protested so much.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“You knew that when you got into this friendship, too late to back out now.”

Wally cuffs Dick over the back of the head as they slide out of the diner booth, which Dick responds to by shoving him into the chrome railing of the bar top. Wally bangs his hip on the edge and yelps in pain, catching the attention everyone in the diner.

Including the manager, who glares at them from behind the bar.

Uh oh.

Dick gives her a sheepish grin and a wave, trotting speedily out of the restaurant with Wally hot on his heels.

They barely get outside before Wally’s pushing Dick over in revenge. He laughs, righting himself easily and prodding Wally in the side.

“Hey! No tickle spots!”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Unreliable source.” Dick pokes him again.

“Mmn- haa- nno!” Wally leaps out of Dick’s reach, waving his arms protectively in front of him. “Illegal!”

Dick grins wickedly, wiggling his fingers. “You realize that just makes it much more tempting.”

“Do not touch my-” Wally pauses, twisted at an odd angle to stay out to Dick’s reach, looking curiously at something behind him.

Dick turns to see what he’s looking at, and finds a group of paparazzi snapping photos of them from across the sheet. His grin falls from his lips, replaced with a sneer of displeasure.

“Great…”

When Dick turns back to Wally, he’s standing normally again – if a little stiff. He looks pretty uncomfortable, and Dick immediately feels awful for dragging him into this. It’s not like he has a choice, really, but he hates that Wally is being forced into the situation.

He grabs Wally’s wrist and starts pulling him away from the crowd. “Just don’t pay attention.”

“Those are some big cameras.”

“Stop looking.”

“They actually dress like sleazebags, I thought that was just in the movies.”

“Wally!”

“What? I’ve never seen them up close before.”

“They’re not endangered animals, they’re paps.”

“Paps? Who are you?”

“I’m someone who’s been living with this for nine years.”

“Jesus…”

Wally cranes his neck over his shoulder to glance at the photographers again, who have crossed the street to follow them, so Dick yanks a little harder on his arm as he picks up the pace.

“Would you quit it!?”

“I can’t help it! It’s like a car crash, you can’t not look.”

“I’m having a very easy time not looking.”

“You’re immune, you’ve seen too many car crashes.”

“Wally!”

He finally turns around again, to Dick’s relief. If they ignore them long enough, and act boring enough, they usually go away. It’s only when Dick has to do something drastic that they ever pay any real attention.

Dick sneaks a glance at Wally, who’s staring ahead with an odd look on his face. He figures it’s some measure of discomfort still; Wally’s eyes are tight in the corners, his lips pressed together in a line. There’s a pang in Dick’s chest at the sight, and he’s about to offer some words of comfort, before Wally moves without warning.

He snaps his head back to glance at the paparazzi again, which Dick is about to snap at him for, then suddenly slings his arm around Dick’s shoulders. Wally pulls him closer, practically plastering him to his side, and presses his face into Dick’s dark hair to plant a kiss on the top of his head. Dick tenses up instantly, red to the tips of his ears.

It’s not like Wally’s never held him before, but it’s not often that he’s this openly affectionate.

“What are you doing?” Dick hisses through clenched teeth. “Do you want to fuel those rumors?”

Wally shrugs, glancing down and winking at Dick so quickly he almost doesn’t catch it. It sends Dick’s heart leaping into his throat. “Why not?”

Dick’s jaw drops in surprise, feeling Wally’s hand start to trace circles on the back of his shoulder, sending shivers down his spine. “But-”

Suddenly, the sound of camera shutters gets a lot louder, the paparazzi catching up with them.

“Mr. Grayson!”

“Dick, who’s your new beau?”

“Turn around!”

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dick bites his tongue, knowing he’s going to regret doing this, before curling his own arm around Wally’s waist. He’s doing it so he can pull his friend along faster, which he does, but he knows it’s just going to make them more bloodthirsty.

The cameras start snapping faster.

“Dick, are you dating now?”

“How long have you been together?”

“You have a thing for redheads?”

Dick pushes down the urge to turn around and give them a mouthful, just walking a bit faster. Wally matches his pace easily, still glancing over his shoulder. Dick doesn’t have the energy to stop him anymore.

Wally leans a little closer. “I have an idea…”

“Because your last one was so great…”

“Promise not to hate me?”

“Too late.”

“Fair enough.”

“Don’t you da-!”

Wally turns to the paparazzi, flashing a charming smile over his shoulder. “Mr. Grayson isn’t taking questions right now.”

“Dude, what are you-”

Without warning (again), Wally bends down and scoops Dick into his arms, who yelps in surprise as his feet leave the ground. The paparazzi go wild, snapping pictures as fast as they can, but Wally’s already taken off down the street.

Dick throws his arms around Wally’s neck to hold on, staring at his friend in a mix of amusement and outrage. “You asshole!”

Wally grins, shaking his hair out of his eyes as he picks up the pace. He’s running just fast enough that the photographers can’t catch up, but not so fast that it’s in-human. His eyes are glinting with mischief and Dick is trying really hard not to love that.

“You love me.”

“Not anymore.” His red cheeks and rapid heart beat definitely don’t contradict that sentence.

Wally turns a corner, and Dick glances over his shoulder to peek at the paparazzi. They’re falling way behind now. “Hurtful. I just saved you from your crazed fans.”

“You’ve made it so much worse.”

“Not like it means anything, they can think what they want.” Wally’s grip gets a little tighter around Dick’s legs. “They gone yet?”

Dick takes another peek. “Almost. Turn left into that alley.”

Wally skids around the corner, taking them into the shadows. The paparazzi disappear around the corner, unable to keep up with Wally’s long legs.

“You’re good.”

“Ready?”

“Go.”

Dick ducks his head against Wally’s collarbone as the world blurs around him, the speedster carrying him taking off like a shot. He doesn’t know where they’re going – he hopes it’s out of the city – but he’s accepted his fate at this point. No way of arguing with Wally West when he’s got an idea.

It’s not like it’s an awful place to be – cradled in Wally’s arms.

Not that Dick will ever admit that.

When the world finally comes to a halt, they’re standing in another alley. Still in Gotham, from the looks of the grungy walls towered over them, but probably on the other side of the city. Dick would know exactly where if they were on a rooftop, but the ground is where Wally’s expertise lies.

“Think we lost them.”

“Nooo, really?” Dick rolls his eyes, wriggling in Wally’s arms to be let down. Wally drops his hold on Dick’s legs, letting his feet touch the floor before uncurling his arm from around Dick’s side.

Dick does not mourn the loss of Wally’s touch. He doesn’t.

“We’re at a zeta, if you wanna get out of Gotham.” Wally stretches his arms over his head, his shoulders cracking with a satisfying ‘pop’.

Dick looks around and finds a decrepit old phonebooth at the end of the alleyway that they’ve both used many times before. Dick knows exactly where they are now.

He turns to his best friend, crossing his arms and giving him a very unimpressed look. “You do realize that you’ve now made your life a living hell.”

Wally cocks an eyebrow. “Why?”

“They’ll never leave you alone.”

“Nah, it’ll blow over.”

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

Wally shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets. “So, they think we’re dating. What’s the big deal?”

Dick’s eyes narrow, processing that question for a minute and trying to swallow the lump that just leapt into his throat.

What the hell does that mean?

“I mean. I guess there isn’t one. But you’ll be beating them off with a stick within a week.”

“That’s fine.”

“You’re gonna hate it.”

“Okay.”

Dick can’t quite get how Wally is so fine this. Ten minutes ago, he’d been saying he couldn’t stand being in the spotlight. Now, he’s totally nonchalant.

Dick is very chalant right now.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Alright. But don’t forget, you did this to yourself.”

Wally chuckles, running a hand through his hair. Cool as a cucumber. “I know.”

Dick can’t decide if he wants to strangle him or kiss him. He smothers down both impulses, moving instead to shove Wally aside as he makes his way to the Zeta point.

“Hey!” Wally catches himself against the wall, pushing himself upright and jogging up behind him. “Aren’t you gonna thank me?”

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

Dick smacks his arm. “What on earth would I thank you for?”

“Getting you away from the paps, of course.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

“But I’m your hero- mmnh! Hey! No tickle spots!”