#is rollling eyes an option

[aasmauk]

Why is Fast Food High in Calories

The absurdity that has been going on with the Greggs sausage roll made of vegan ingredients is the most accurate depiction of the current state of affairs in this country. I had hoped there would be one man in the Kings Heath branch, bald-headed and sporting a Costa Del Sol burnt bonce covered by caps.

Do you Know Greggs Vegan Sausage Roll Calories

He would be looking at those seated at the back of the line looking at each one with his bloodshot, bulging eyes and occasionally shouting the muffled words 'SAUSAGE ROLLL means SAUSAGE ROLL' over his Stone Island scarf that blocks off the lower part of his facial.

The man wasn't there, however, and I admire the determination of those who get excited over something that seems seemingly insignificant—what a bunch of genuinely great guys.

My first and perhaps sole visit to this location of Greggs is to sample the sausage roll made from sausage and a sausage roll that is not made of link. To find out what the Twitter outrage is about and why the gammons of America are becoming so cautious about the product made from pork.

To give you some background, This is my third and fourth Greggs rolls, with the first one being in late November last year after a colleague threw one of them on my desk. I'm not sure what else to say about it.

The visual difference is striking in the sense that one looks greasy, but the other isn't. The meat-based version is a source of oiliness that isn't something you would like near a good piece of clothing, whereas the vegan version looked like a sausage roll you didn't remember to wash with egg, and that's what it is.

They're almost identical to that pig and pig, which is both alarming and awe-inspiring. The Quorn version may be a little more peppery and has a firmer texture. I like the vegan version. Repeat. I like the vegan version.

As impressive as this incredible feat of engineering by Greggs's headquarters, I'm sure you can serve vegan alternatives on a buffet and serve them as the equivalent of meat. However, this is what I am not sure about. It is a concept based on animals' welfare at its heart.

It is difficult to understand why vegans would choose to eat something that smells like cooked pork. I am a meat-free conscious eater. We consume less meat in our homes to ensure that the animal we consume has lived the best possible life, and I'll eat every organ and cut to show respect for the animal.

From this point of view, the vegan option is appealing to me. I don't think that the pork used in the meat version is free in the same way as the amount they are charging. Therefore the vegan version successfully replicates the taste, but without the meat. I'm trying to convince myself to live a vegan life here. I must stop this right away.

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me Pt 1 | Feysand

Sooo.... okay I wasn't planning anything but then I was whingeing about how SJM wimps out on her morally grey characters and it got me thinking about the opposite. Instead of a badass being actually soft what about a softie with a secret dark streak yknow? Anyway I don't know who is still reading these but here's yet another modern AU. I hate leaving the safety of my drafts.

[update: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14]

Tamlin had never liked Rhys, and perhaps this was the basis of his appeal.

I’m not too proud to admit it- the first thing I wanted to do after we split up was to shove something in Tamlin’s face. Anything. I got a tattoo a few weeks after I moved out, just because Tamlin said that girls with tattoos had ‘ruined themselves’. And because I wanted to make sure that he no longer knew what I looked like naked.

And there was Rhys in the waiting room, flirting with the receptionist while I filled out the waiver for first-time clients. He was wearing a black singlet and jeans that had seen better days, his left arm wrapped in cling film so I couldn’t see what latest addition he had made that day. He was in so many ways Tamlin's opposite. I used to think that Tamlin looked like a movie star, the kind you would find on a yacht, partying with models. Rhys looked like should be fixing a motorcycle, or something. I looked back at my clipboard quickly, but not quick enough to avoid Rhys saying “Feyre?” and sitting down next to me.

I had known he’d gone to high school with Tamlin; after I’d moved to Tamlin’s home town we’d bumped into Rhys in the grocery store. Tamlin tersely introduced him while I leaned on the handle of the shopping cart and tried not to choke on the density of the warring male hormones between them. In fairness to Tamlin, I did think Rhys was gorgeous when he threw me a dark and wicked grin. Just to wind Tamlin up.

And then I’d run into him here and there, but never really had any kind of deep or meaningful interactions.

Tamlin didn’t like me to have deep or meaningful interactions with anyone, except him. And his mother, Alis. Her I was allowed to speak to. But even she was afraid of him.

“He’s not a good guy,” is all Tamlin would ever tell me. Ground out between clenched teeth with no further explanation.

One time he said it in front of Rhys, and all Rhys did was wink at me and say, “he’s right you know.”

So there I was in the tattoo studio, scared shitless because I’d never been particularly good with pain, but Rhys knew the artist I had chosen and convinced her to let him sit down with me during my session. He sat backwards on a chair, leaning his forearms on the backrest and distracted me while the needle buzzed. Held my hand at first, and then started telling me outrageous stories about him and his buddies Cassian and Azriel. I focused on the deep rollling of his voice and shocking violet of his eyes until the needle on my arm was just background noise.

And that was how he found out Tamlin and I had broken up, and how I told him I was barely covering costs in the studio I had just moved into, and how he ended up getting me into a low-cost apartment in the projects where he lived. The paperwork went through within the fortnight.

“You’re just in the apartment next to me,” Rhys is telling me. He’s walking with a stack of my boxes in his arms, while I trail behind nervously clutching a suitcase. He's wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt that hugs his biceps, and I still can't see his new tattoo. “On the other side of you is my cousin Mor, who is just going to love you.”

There is certainly part of me that questions how quickly I've decided to trust Rhys, especially given how well it turned out the last time I put my trust in a man. Then again, I don't have a lot of options. At least this time it's my own house where I have my own keys and pay my own rent.

“Right,” I mumble. “And how did I jump the queue and get this apartment again?”

Rhys just flashes a toothy grin at me, and says, “Because I’m the king of Velaris.”

We reach the apartment and Rhys braces one foot on the wall next to the door, so that he can balance my boxes on his knee while he fiddles with the keys. They clack against the silver rings on his fingers. He pushes the door open, gets a hold of the boxes again and then steps through.

Tamlin lived in a huge house on a lake, with marble floors and columns in the foyer. It was beautiful, and empty, and cold. I had a room to myself, which I thought was weird when I agreed to move in with him, until I learned that his parents had never shared a bedroom and he just kept that tradition going.

My new apartment is smaller, not even comparable, really. It’s a one-bedroom apartment with a short balcony and thick, cream carpeting that looks like it’s recently been replaced. I set my suitcase down on the floor while Rhys puts the boxes on the dark kitchen counter, and step through the double glass doors on the far wall.

The Velaris flats are on a council estate and the view is amazing. You’d expect the projects to be in some awful, nothing neighbourhood, and some of them are. But these ones are a block where half are commission housing and the other half are private rentals, and when you walk out onto the balconies there’s nothing but mountains as far as the eye can see.

“It’s not much,” Rhys says. “We’ll get you a couch and a lamp though and that will make all the difference.”

“It’s perfect,” I say, and before I really think it through I step close to him and wrap my arms around him. Rhys freezes for a second, and then hugs me back.

“I’m glad,” he says quietly.

There’s the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind us, and we pull apart.

In the doorway stands the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She’s wearing a sweater dress that loves her curves, and she’s got long golden curls like an old Hollywood star.

“Mor,” Rhys greets her. “This is Feyre.”

“Hello.” I give an awkward little wave, but Mor sweeps into the room and hugs me like an old friend.

“Feyre,” she says. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you all week.” She even smells divine. Mor pulls back and surveys the room.

“Rhys are you moving Feyre into an empty room?” she asks.

“Well,” Rhys answers defensively, “I thought she’d like to pick out her own furniture.”

Mor turns to Rhys with exasperation painted on her lovely face.

“She’s moving into this shoe box because she doesn’t have any money, jackass.” She looks to me for confirmation, and even though she’s right, I don’t want to seem ungrateful to Rhys.

“Well..” I stutter.

Mor rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry babe, I’m here now and I’m gonna take care of you.” She kisses my cheek swiftly, and promises to be back soon. The free-flowing affection is unexpected but I find that I like it. I hear her yelling for Cassian and Azriel on her way out, and then it’s just me and Rhys left in the apartment.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t even think,” Rhys starts to say.

“No!” I stop him. “Are you kidding? I didn’t have anywhere else to go, I don’t even have enough money to get a plane ticket back home. You really saved me.”

Rhys still looks chagrined but doesn’t say anything more about it as he helps me unpack. He brings a small bookcase from his house, because apart from clothes and a few kitchen things, my belongings mostly consist of books, my art supplies, and a handful of knick-knacks. I don’t know what he does with his own books.

“You know,” Rhys comments as he stacks the shelf. He’s organising books by what seems to be colour, while I slide plates into the kitchen cupboards. “If you really want to go home I’m sure we could find a way to get you there. There are cheap tickets.”

I shudder. “I don’t actually want to go,” I admit. “My sisters and I… we don’t get along.”

Rhys frowns, perhaps thinking of his own family and how close they seem to be. “That bad?” he says.

“Well, I moved in with Tamlin to get away from there, so that probably gives you an indication.” At first I thought it was so nice, the jealousy. How much he wanted me, after years of being unwanted.

“Ah.”

“Actually, it was Nesta who told me to do it. She said it’d be one less mouth to feed and it was the least I could do.”

“So Nesta was putting food on the table after your dad died?" We had gone over some family history in that tattoo session.

“No,” I say casually. “I was.”

Rhys’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t push.

“And you?” I start putting cutlery in the drawer. “Is this where you grew up?”

Rhys nods, seeming to concentrate on arranging a few little figurines along the edge of the bookshelf. “My dad was actually filthy rich but he was also an asshole.  My ma was able to leave because she got a placement under a domestic violence claim so we came here. And we brought Mor because she begged to come and her parents didn’t give a shit what she did.”

I didn’t know that about them, and I’m not sure how to respond. Before I can, Rhys continues.

“Cassian and Azriel were the only ones our age around here so we became close very quickly, and then when we turned 16 Mor applied for her own place and was lucky to get one in the same estate. I stayed though because Ma was pretty sick by that point. She only got another year or so after that so I’m glad I did.”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. Rhys just shrugs.

“I’m sorry for you, too,” he says, and I know he means not just my family.

At that moment the door bangs open and Mor is back, a flush on her cheeks making her even more beautiful. She grins at me, before hollering over her shoulder.

“In here, boys!”

Next thing I know, two very large men are hauling an assortment of furniture into the house. The bigger one grunts as he drags a dark blue sofa into the room, and then goes back out only for the smaller one to set down a coffee table in front of it. The big one returns with what looks to be a dismantled bed frame, and goes to set it down but Mor flaps her hands at him.

“In the bedroom Cassian, come on use that pretty head of yours.”

“Sorry Feyre,” he says with a look at me, and moves off to the room down the hall.

“Nice to meet you,” is all I can think to say, and then the other one- Azriel, I guess- staggers through the door with a mattress.

“Mor,” I say tentatively, when Cassian is hauling in a wardrobe, “where did all this stuff come from?”

“Off the back of a truck,” Cassian grins at me on his way back out, and my jaw drops.

“He’s messing with you,” Azriel tells me, and then carries a night stand past me.

“There are a lot of poor people living here,” Mor explains. “But there are a lot of rich folk right in the next street. You just walk around the rich areas and see what people are throwing out, so much stuff is brand new. Thank the gods for gentrification, huh?”

She repositions a lamp that Cassian has brought in, and suddenly the little apartment looks like an actual home. For second hand furniture, Mor is right. The pieces are slightly mismatched but they’re in excellent condition, and much nicer than anything I could afford. People say that empty spaces look bigger but somehow, with everything in place the small room feels like all the space that I need.

The whole process takes mere minutes and I’m speechless. Cassian is stretching his enormous frame out over the two-seater. Azriel is leaning in the doorway and Mor is still making minor changes to the placement of things.

“Thank you,” I say, and there should be more but all I can do is inject as much feeling as I can into the words.

“Welcome to the neighbourhood,” Azriel says.

“Now about that pizza…” Cassian looks meaningfully toward Mor and she rolls her eyes.

“Rhys, I promised them pizza.”

Rhys sighs and pulls out his phone.

“Oh let me,” I say. “You’ve all done so much for me, the least I can do is get the pizza…” but Rhys is already putting his phone back into his pocket.

“I’ve got their order saved,” he says with a wink. “You can get the next one.”

“My order is four pizzas,” Cassian tells me. “I don’t care what’s on them, I just need there to be four.”

“I’ll remember that,” I promise.

“Az likes pepperoni, cheese for Mor, mushrooms for Rhys.”

“Got it.”

“Now let me tell you my definitive rankings for pizza in the area, it is not the same as Rhys’s.”

There’s a collective groan from the group, but I’m just so happy to be here, I’d listen to them talk about grass growing.

Ten minutes later, there’s a knock at the door.

“That was quick,” I say, and open it. But it’s not pizza.

“Lucien?!”

My ex-boyfriend’s best friend stands there, clenching and unclenching his fists. He’s slightly out of breath, and got a swollen lip and a bruise forming over one of his cheekbones.

“Vanserra? What are you doing here? And what the hell happened to you face?” Rhys has appeared behind me, and I remember that all of these guys went to school together. Lucien doesn’t answer him, just looks at me with desperation lighting in his eyes.

“Feyre,” he says. “Feyre I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to tell him, but he… I’m so, so sorry.”

I draw a shaking breath and don’t want to hear this. “Sorry for what, Lucien?” I breathe.

“He’s coming,” Lucien tells me. “Tamlin’s on his way over right now.”

***

Oh shit that ending makes it seem like I'm writing some kind of snuff piece i'm not lol it's just a hiccup dw

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[atlaese]

Blurb #1: halloween costumes

Tw: cussing, flufffff all the way, Shrek slander

wc: 1k

You closed the door of your apartment behind you, tossing your keys on the cabinet in the hall and skipped into the kitchen, the grocery bags flinging around in your hands.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee invaded your nostrils as you dropped the bags on the table, walking over to Spencer who was reaching in the cupboard above his head, grabbing the container of sugar. You wound your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss on his shoulder, “morning babe.”

“Hi,” he replied as he grabbed your hand that was resting on his stomach and turned his head lightly to give you a smile, “where did you run off to so early?”

You squeezed him tightly and rested your cheek against his shoulder, “well, Halloween is in like a month, right?” You said, your voice a bit muffled because of the closeness.

“Yeah,” he said as he turned around in your embrace, resting his arms on your shoulders, looking down at you with a small smile. He loved the you always went full on out on Halloween and dressing up.

“I got some stuff already, but I’m not sure yet who I’ll be dressing up as,” you gave a small kiss on the corner on his mouth, untangling yourself from the embrace and getting the grocery bags from the kitchen table.

Spencer took a sip from his coffee as he watched you pull out different things. A pair of white glasses, some green face paint, a top hat, d ark brown hair dye and some weird pants.

“I don’t want to bum you out, but these objects make no sense together babe,” he leaned against the countertop and put his free hand in his front pocket.

“I know, I know. I’m just stuck between these two characters, whom I both adore with my whole heart, but you need to help me choose!”

“Oh, are we doing couples costumes this year or not?”

“We don’t have to, I just want your opinion as your are the professional Halloween attendee,” you snickered as you got yourself a cup of coffee and hopped up on the countertop.

“Alright, let’s hear the options and I’ll give you my professional opinion,” Spencer said as he came to stand between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs and a loving look in his eyes as he watched you get excited.

“Okay, okay, so you know last year, Wednesday Addams, huge success,” you were gesturing with your hands, Spencer watching the coffee swirl around in the mug, dangerously close to spilling over. He grabbed the mug from your hands, you almost not noticing in your excitement.

“Because last year was like black and white-ish, I wanna do some crazy colours, so drum rolll”, you patted your hands on your thighs, “first option is Shrek! Crazy green ogre with a love for onions.”

“You do love onions as well, and I can acknowledge that you are indeed bat shit crazy sometimes”, he squeezed your knee and you giggled.

“I know right! But option two might be even better! Although your facial structure would be better with this character because my head is like a basketball,” you said, blowing up your cheeks to prove your point, “I love him and wanna be him. Everything in this room is eatable, even I’m eatable! But that is called cannibalism, my dear children, and is in fact frowned upon in most societies.”

“Oh! Willy Wonka! And your face is adorable, I think you’d make an awesome Willy Wonka,” he kissed your cheeks one by one, ending with a small kiss on your nose, “hmm alright. Tell me your arguments why you’d want to be character or another.”

You put your arms around his neck and pulled him even closer, “well Shrek is just cool you know. He doesn’t care about this appearance and he’s kinda anti-social, which I can relate to, “you counted on your fingers.

“Yeah, the anti-social does sound like you”, he snickered which earned a loving eye-roll from you, “but I have the feeling you have more arguments to dress up as Wonka, right?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything other from you dr. Reid,” you smiled at him dreamily, “first off, I love his sense of fashion. I feel like he dresses as you would do in an alternate universe or something, which is very cool I must say.”

You were toying with his vest now, a lilac colour that looked great on him, as it always did.

“And you know, the hairdresser cut my hair way too short, so now it’s the perfect length for a Willy Wonka costume..,” you trailed off, twirling the short ends of your hair around your finger.

Spencer softly grabbed your face in both his hands, and gave you a sweet kiss on your lips, “I for one like your short hair. It frames your face really well,” he mumbled against your lips, "you're too cute for Shrek anyway."

You rolled your lips between your teeth as you slowly opened your eyes and studied his face. His eyes were focussed on yours and you felt as if you were all alone in the world, just with him on your side.

“So I’m Wonka then,” you said as you started to lean into him again, “and you’d make an adorable Augustus Gloop,” as your lips touched again.

——

A/N: Lmao i couldn’t sleep last night (thank u insomniaaaa thank u uni) and wrote this cute blurb.

this is so random but lmao we don’t really celebrate halloween where I live and honestly I always wanted to dress up as Willy Wonka or Shrek. Shrek used to be my go to but my hair is like the same length as Willy Wonka rn and if I wasn’t a blonde I could definitely pass as him soooo….

[iwriteficsandtragedies]

Movie Night

First one shot in this weekend of fluff

The string of curses that left Sergio’s mouth would have made a sailor blush. You heard the microwave door slam, heard Sergio curse its mother for good measure, and then he stomped into the living room, holding your plate of nachos with an oven mitt in one hand. The other hand clutched an ice pack.

You tried hard not to laugh. The poor man had always been hopeless in the kitchen. But it was movie night, and movie night required nachos, and as you were laid up on the couch with a broken foot the task of making them had fallen on him tonight. “What did you do now?” You took the plate from him with just your fingertips, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Burned my hand on the stupid plate, if it’s microwave safe it shouldn’t get so hot.”

“Honey no that’s... that’s not what that means.” You took the ice pack from his hand, checking his fingers and palm. “I think you’re OK. I appreciate your sacrifice though,” you said as you grabbed the biggest chip you could reach. “These look delicious.”

“They had better be,” he grumbled, taking one for himself. “What are we watching?”

“You pick.” You handed him the remote and leaned over to grab the plate. He shifted around for you to settle in against him, folding his body around yours as he flipped through the options on screen.

“What about this one?”

You groaned. Sergio always picked horror films, even though you were a huge fraidy cat. “Fine, but don’t complain when it’s two in the morning and I’ve still got the light on.”

He grabbed another chip and pressed play. “It’s ok. You’re extra clingy when you’ve watched something scary.” He gave you a little squeeze. “Why do you think I always pick them?”

You rollled your eyes. By the time the movie was over, though, you had your face fully buried in his chest and a death grip on his arm. He turned off the TV and stroked your back with his free hand. “Are you going to be ok?” You heard the smile in his voice.

“No,” you huffed. “I don’t know how you enjoy this stuff.”

“I told you,” he said, pushing your hair aside to kiss your neck. “You get clingy when you’re scared. Win-win for me.”

You yawned in spite of yourself. “Well, I hope you’re ready to be the big spoon all night. Take me to bed.”

He laughed out loud this time. “Yes dear.” He helped you to your feet and handed you your crutches. “You should be nicer to me, you know. It’s not like you can run away from the boogie man right now.”

“Sergio enough,” you whined.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pulled you into a hug, kissing you sweetly. “Come on, let’s tuck you in.”

Getting ready for bed was a big ordeal with your cast on, but with Sergio’s help you finally lay under the covers. He slipped in behind you, spooning around you and holding you tightly.

You had compromised and left just the bathroom light on, and it was enough light for you to see the outlines of his tattoos. You liked to trace your fingers over them when you were trying to fall asleep. His skin was soft and warm under your fingers, and you tilted your head to kiss his bicep. He tightened his arms around you again at your touch.

“You keep that up and I’ll be too relaxed to fight off the boogie man.”

You smiled. “Well, you were no match for the nachos, I’m not sure the boogie man has anything to be worried about.”

He gave you a gentle pinch. “Go to sleep.”

“Yes dear.” You nuzzled into his arm, starting to trace your fingers over his tattoos again. Sergio’s breathing grew heavy and even as he drifted off to sleep, but his hold on you remained. You let sleep take you, safe and happy in Sergio’s arms.

[aestheticvoyage2018]

Day 139: Saturday May 19, 2018 - “Down In The Valley(s)”

Ramble day planned for California today - Id scouted out a great route, a rare day where I had actually both itinerary and destination, so long as the roads were open.  I rollled up out of Hawthorne after a good rest and bfast, to go find the Rose Bowl and see that place with my own eyes.   Lots of action in and around there - hard to even get close to it.  Youd think it was the Pope or something - and all these semis!  No Pope here, it was Taylor Swift.  I got asked for my badge twice and why I was just walking around out here this morning - Im just trying to say Ive been to the Rose Bowl, man.   I did appreciate the statue of Jackie Robinson in the small rose garden out front with all the semis.  I hoped Id be back some day for the Spartans - thatd be pretty cool.   With that box checked in Pasadena, it was time to hit the road.  My sights and tires were pointed at CA Highway 2, the Angeles Crest.   

The road zigs and zags for almost 70 miles across the top of the San Gabriel Mountains topping out at almost 8,000 feet.  I hoped it wouldnt take long on this footloose blue highway to get up above the cloud cover and fog, especially once  I was socked into the middle of it.  And sure enough about 15 minutes in BAM blue skies and I was into the clear.  Took me about 2 hours to drive all the way across to Wrightwood.   Id see PCT hikers, motorcycle racers putting their knees down on the pavement, sports cars timing their travel time, and even ultra marathoners.   A playground for all - including me, just a standard rambler throwing some miles down in my bright red Kia Soul.   Coming down and out on the other side, was the desert I expected to see.  I looped back around for my next stop on the itinerary - a dusty cowboy town named Acton.

I pulled in out of the way to find Acton nestled up into the hills of the mountains I just drove over.   I read up on its history as I drove to find a welcome sign.  Founded by miners from Massachusetts, there was mention of an old 49er Saloon from 1889 that was still operating. Found it!   Settled in there for a whiskey drink and the bar maid quickly figured out my last name was shared with the towns, which was entertaining for the local Saturday afternoon regulars there who said I should stay and be mayor.  I like the charm of the western tumbleweed-town, and probably could have been talked into it if I didnt have more miles to run today.  I split out of the 49er back out into the bright sunshine, eyes adjusted, I turned it North and set out for Bakersfield while listening to my horse bets lose again in the Preakness.  

Bakersfield was as I expected, much like Fresno, and pulling into that town I was now officially on my mission of filling in some gaps left when I lived here in the Central Valley back in 2014.  Bakersfield to Visalia, then over West to the I-5 and fill in the interstate through the San Joaquin Valley all the way up to Tracy which had me thinking of On the Road, and Jack running through here years ago seeing the same butter light on the same rolling coastal hill and the same fruit trees and farms on both sides.   Got some good blue highway action in through towns like Riverdale.  Closed up that big gap on the map through the middle of California.  The end goal was Lodi, which I had jokingly skipped on purpose in 2014 on my way to Sacramento, so as to not get stuck there.   I beat the sunset in getting up past Stockton and into Lodi, looking for dinner and a brewery.   Itd have plenty of options for both  - found myself in the old, fancy LBC - great ambience here!   I was really impressed before Id even walked in.   The street was lined with Oaks, illuminated as if they were there own street lamps.   I had this idea that Lodi was a shit hole in the wall dusty town, from the CCR song’s portrait of it.  But no, Lodi is what you’d expect Napa to look like.  A fancy, well kept, wine town between San Fran and Sacramento.  Eyes opened, and belly full with a better understanding of the history of the place and wine roots, I walked the streets up and down and got some steps in and fresh air before turning the Soul back South to back from where I came.   Nice evening driving on the I-5 filling it back in and connecting to Bakersfield, rarely having to take off the 80mph cruise.  Window down, night air, good tunes  on the radio, solid road trip coming in around 230a at around 875 miles run today.   The highlights were definitely the fun zagging on the Angeles Crest, the whiskey and entertainment in Acton, and the sunsetting butterlight on the coastal hills with the windows down.  Been blessed these last few weeks to have lots of great new roads and road trips.  What I love the most is seeing new places with my own eyes and learning it - another success today.

Song:  Metallica - Wherever I May Roam

Quote:  “Dean's California--wild, sweaty, important, the land of lonely and exiled and eccentric lovers come to forgather like birds, and the land where everybody somehow looked like broken-down, handsome, decadent movie actors.”― Jack Kerouac, On the Road

[septirapdork]

Fic: We Should Be Together Tonight

It was just a normal evening in America. It rained heavily and you could hear the waterdrops hit the roof. Jack sat in his chair - he had moved in a few months ago - and stared at his computer monitor intensely. He had just finished a new video, but so mething felt off. It was some new scary game with ghosts and zombies, stuff like that, but still - something about it made him cringe, and not in the good kind of way. It just felt like filming a scary video with all the rain outside was a bit of a cliché. After some thinking he sighed and closed the  recording program - Robin would have to edit it tomorrow, so Jack had to wake up pretty early the next day to send the unedited video to him.

“Eh, damn it”, Jack shrugged and decided to go to sleep after washing his face and teeth. He and Signe had broken up before Jack had moved to the USA, because of the distance - unfortunately. The man was just about to hop in bed, when someone rang his doorbell. “Who the heck?” he murmured and walked to the door, opening it with a puzzled look on his face. “Arin?”

“Hi Jack”, the all-wet man answered. “I- Can I, well… Can I sleep here tonight?”

“You drove all the way to Santa Barbara?” Jack was clearly surprised. “Why didn’t you stay at Dan and Barry’s place? Or… home?”

“I need to talk to you”, Arin seemed flustered when he came inside and put his jacket away, next to Jack’s own. “Something happened at home.”

Jack immediately started to look for a place for Arin to sleep, but then remembered he hadn’t taken any mattresses with him from Brighton.’

“Fuck”, he scratched his head, “I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep in.”

“I can sleep next to you”, Arin seemed very depressed, which made Jack question everything. From all the people in the world, being depressed was not something Arin was very often. That made Jack say yes.

“Okay. But only if you tell me what’s going on.” He was very serious and got Arin to wipe his right eye.

“Shit, dry eyes”, Arin tried to laugh a bit and went to sit on the couch. Jack followed him and sat right next to him.

“Tell me what happened”, he said quietly.  “What is wrong at home?” Arin went silent and looked at his toes like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“We broke up.”

“What?”

“Me and Suzy. We broke up.”

Jack was so surprised he didn’t know what to say at all. What the heck? They were the perfect couple!

“We had this coming”, Arin continued after some awkward silence. “We tried to make it work many times, but this time… It just didn’t work anymore, you know? Everything was different. Silent and made us both feel bad. I still love her and she still loves me, though, that’s the reason we’re doing this.” There were tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh no”, Jack almost cried himself. “I’m so sorry, buddy.” They hugged for a long time and Jack tried to come up with something to say. “So what will you do now?”

“I dunno. I will probably stay at Brent’s for a while.”

“You can stay here too”, Jack made a proposition. “I live closer to the Grump Studio than Brent. It would be easier for you.”

“Thank you so much man”, Arin hugged him again. “You’re an actual Irish angel.” Jack smiled for the first time in days - stress had taken the best of him and had made him a bit sad.

“Love you, bro”, Jack said while yawning. “Should we go to sleep? You can pour out anything bad you have in mind in bed.”

“This is so straight”, Arin cracked up a joke and made his blue-haired friend laugh.

They lied next to each other in silence. After a while, Arin started opening up and just stared at the ceiling.

“I don’t think me and Suzy can see each other in a while. You know, I need some kind of a… a distraction. Or something. She always hangs out at the studio, what will I do? I can’t let the lovelies down.”

“Take your time, buddy”, Jack looked at him. “I’m sure people will understand. And besides, you guys have a lot of material pre-recorded. Just, like, put out two episodes instead of three per day. I am very sure that the lovelies can live with that for a while.”

“You’re right. Thanks, Seán.”

“Since when have you called me that?” he smiled widely and made Arin question himself. It took a while for him to answer.

“Since now”, Arin smiled back at Jack. They stared at each other for a minute or two, before Arin changed sides. “Goodnight, potato boy.”

“Night, American.”

“Is that really the best you got?” Arin chuckled.

“… Yes.”

Jack woke up at the middle of the night after seeing a nightmare about his own breakup, Arin’s misfortune must’ve brought it up in his mind. He noticed that Arin had rollled over and slept now with his head on Jack’s shoulder. The other man swallowed and tried to lightly tap Arin on the forehead, making him come even closer.

“Oh man”, Jack muttered to himself. ‘Since when has Arin been that cute?’ he noticed to be thinking. Jack closed his eyes and listened to Arin’s sleepy breathing - it made him happy in a way no one had made him since the breakup. It was weird, they had been friends for a long time, but this was different. Very, very different.

“Sleepy…” Arin said in his sleep, very quietly and incoherently.

“Shh, you sleep now”, Jack got frightened that Arin would wake up so he started to pet his hair slightly. Soon he was in very deep sleep again. “That was close”, Jack muttered. He didn’t know what was wrong and it made him feel uneasy. It was like someone had stabbed him in the heart repeatedly - it was almost like he had a crush for the first time in months. It couldn’t be that, right? Right…? Jack closed his eyes and thought of Arin in a warm, cute kind of way. He would make him coffee every morning. Every time Arin would see a nightmare, he would wake Jack up and kiss him on the cheek, thanking of him being there for him. Jack opened his eyes and felt blood rush into his face. “This is not good”, he shaked his head, but only a bit, so Arin wouldn’t wake up. This was only the start.

In the morning Arin had woken up before Jack, so Jack woke up to the smell of coffee in the room.

“What the -” he looked around him, only to find no one in the room.

“Oh no, you woke up”, he heard Arin’s voice from the door. Jack’s eyes jolted to him.

Arin smiled and made the other man feel all fuzzy inside.

“It’s hard not to wake up when you have coffee in the room”, he laughed and sat up. “By the way, where is it?” “On your night desk”, Arin pointed his finger at Jack.

“Oops.”

“You did like coffee, right?”

“I sure do”, Jack took a gulp. “No coffee for you?”

“Nah, too much caffeine for my taste, at least at the moment. I have to get my stuff from my place - I mean Suzy’s place.” Arin looked a bit sad again, which made Jack sad. He didn’t want anybody to be sad, goddammit!

“Do you think you will be okay?” Jack asked when Arin sat next to him on the bed. He shrugged, but smiled afterwards and opened his mouth.

“I’m happy if you are here for me.”

“Oh man”, Jack blushed against his will. “I -”

“You are all red.”

“Dammit! I blush far too easily”, Jack buried his face to his hands. Arin just laughed and patted his friend on the back.

“I know man, it’s hard to take compliments. But you, my Irish angel, need those a lot. You’re like the best guy in the world for letting me stay in here.” Jack just waved his hand and made Arin grab it. His hand was soft and warm, and made crush-having Jack want to jump out of the window at the very moment.

“Oh please, Brent was an option too”, he tried to sound casual, but noticed how Arin started to almost giggle.

“If I wanted to be at Brent’s, I would’ve driven there last night. I knew I could count on you so I came here instead.” Jack was the one who was flustered now and didn’t know what the heck to think of all of this. “Really, tho, the European tour made us a lot closer, I think. I’m so glad you decided to move to the States.”

“Same here”, Jack noticed what he had just said. Same here? A few days ago the move had broken up his life. He had lost Signe, he had lost a few friends back in the UK, he had lost a lot of stuff. But if it meant a new beginning, then it was all okay.

The next evening they both slept in the same bed again. Jack tried to not think how close Arin had been last night, and how his heart started racing every time he thought about it. Arin just stared at the ceiling again and made Jack question his life choices.

“I love this room”, Arin said suddenly. “It’s a bit too cold at nights, though.” Jack almost gasped, but luckily was able to hold it back.

“I agree.”

“It’s good we both sleep here then”, Arin smiled and closed his eyes, before - wait a second, he didn’t roll over, but stayed on his back. Jack’s head was full of warning sirens. ‘Do not fall for him. Do. Not. Fall for him.’ The Irish one had always known he’s bisexual, he just hadn’t talked about it to pretty much anyone. Signe was the only one who knew about it and that was it.

“True. It’s warmer that way”, he tried really hard to sound casual.

“Jack, I need to tell you something.”

“I’m all ears”, Jack smiled and looked at Arin. “What do you want to tell me?” Arin clearly thought about it for a second before he started talking.

“I think I know why it… why it didn’t work out with Suzy. I have never told about this to anyone.”

“Tell me”, Jack waited eagerly for Arin to continue his story. He knew what he wanted to hear, but this was something so very different.

“For a long time, I… I had a crush on Dan.”

“What?” Jack was so confused at that moment. At the same time he was happy, and at the same time he was… angry. Angry at himself for not noticing anything earlier. Should he tell Arin his secret too?

“Yeah. I know I always made jokes about it, but eventually I noticed they weren’t jokes anymore. I think Suzy is an exception. Like, I have always had crushes on boys but I really fell for her.”

Jack really didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell him, he really did, but was it okay now that Arin wanted to open up? For a small silent moment he thought about it, and made his decision.

“Arin, I’m bi.”

“Really?” Arin was clearly a bit shocked. “Since when have you known this?” Jack counted with his fingers.

“About since I was twelve. You are the second person to know about this. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Have you ever kissed a boy?” Arin suddenly payed great interest to this new information he had heard. “I have.”

“I haven’t. I have only been with girls”, Jack scratched his head. Thank God it was dark in the room, because otherwise Arin would’ve seen how bright red Jack’s face was at the moment.

“I want to give you a reward for letting me stay here”, Arin bit his lip a bit. “If it’s okay?” Jack nodded but realized then it was too late to say no. He had no idea what Arin had in mind and he had just basically said yes. Slowly Arin crawled closer to him and kissed Jack on the cheek. “There.”

“You know what?” Jack smiled and was redder than ever. “Thank you.” Silence. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Same here.” Silence. A slow kiss that started sweetly, like the first kiss between a young couple. They started switching kisses more quickly and after that Arin pressed his forehead against Jack’s.

“I really like kissing you.”

The next day Jack was the one who woke up first. He noticed that Arin had wrapped his arm around his waist and had a steady hold of him. Jack had to smile. If he could help Arin to get over his ex-wife, he would do that. If he was just a bandaid, that was okay too. He just wanted to kiss him again.

“Good morning”, Jack said softly.

“That isn’t the way you usually say it”, Arin smirked after he had had a good yawn. “Normally you sound much more… enthusiastic.” Jack had to laugh a bit before answering.

“Please kiss me again”, Jack then said in a quiet voice. Arin sat up and smooched one of his best friends properly. “I could do that all day, you know.”

“I know”, he smiled like never before. “I think this new beginning isn’t so bad after all. I mean, I get to be with you. I’ve, eh, I’ve had a small crush on you since the European tour. I know I have to get over Suzy, but if you are there to help me do that… I think I will be just fine.” Jack knew he was doomed to have this crush for a long, long time. After all, he had had some part of it inside his soul for some time already - Jack just had needed this to happen to realize it was there. ‘Do not fall for him? Fuck that. I will fall for him so hard I’m gonna break every bone in my body’, Jack thought to himself and kissed Arin again, more softly than ever before. His lips were perfect to kiss. He felt this feeling of… belonging. It was the best feeling in a long time.