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soulsxng · 1 year

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Rules, tag 10 followers you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @sansloii Tagging: steal it from me!

Name: Aya, Riah, Rai-rai. I noticed there's a lot of people that pronounce Aya like...(the letter) A-yah, but it's actually Ai-yah. Riah is Rai-ah.

Star Sign: Sagittarius sun, Libra moon, Cancer rising!

Height: 5'9" (I shrank a little, weh.)

Middle name: It's a secret c: I'll just say that it's a super common one.

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up? (*puts the bigass master youtube playlist on shuffle and shrugs tbh*)

Mon.ster H.unter: World - V.aal Ha.zak theme (FalKKonE metal arrange)

La La Latch (Pentatonix)

The Reverberation Ensemble (StudioEIM)

Requiem (Chogakusei cover)

Kisaragi Station (nqrse)

Put Your Records On (Corinne Bailey Rae)

Ever had a poem or song written about you: I have, a few times! When we were still in elementary school, my little bro wrote a poem about me for class. And then I had a group of friends write a song about me when I was in high school (I had been dealing with The Big C at the time and was in the hospital, and they wrote it to cheer me up. It made me cry orz)

When was the last time you played air guitar: I'm more of a random dancing/wiggling randomly when music is playing type. Oh! Actually, it was a few weeks ago, because I was messing with my little sister while I was visiting her at work. That was an air banjo though, from an inside joke I have with my siblings.

Who is your celebrity crush?: I don't think I have one? That feels like a cop out though, so I'll say that I'm a big fan of Ol.an Ro.gers? He's hilarious. Me, my wife, and a few of our friends got to meet him last year actually, and it was a lot of fun!

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: FUCKIN-- okay so there's a lot of bad sounds out there, but one that has been a pet peeve of mine for a long time? People chewing with their mouth open, or sucking on their teeth a lot. OH, ALSO SUPER HIGH PITCHED NOISES. Like when movies and stuff play that like...tinnitus noise sometimes?

As for a sound I like, uh...it's sort of hard to explain, but sometimes when you hear people singing a harmony, if the voices line up perfectly, you can naturally hear what's called an overtone. I might have to look for a video or something, but essentially, you can hear a pitch the next octave up from one of the harmonized notes even though nobody is singing it. It's super cool, and gives me goosebumps every time. It occurs in instrumental harmonies too, iirc?

Do you believe in ghosts?: Kinda? I guess it depends on the circumstance.

How about aliens: I mean, yeah. I think it's scarier to believe that we're the only planet out there with intelligent life and whatnot on it, than to believe that there's others out there that we just haven't encountered, yet. Also, the odds of that are just astronomically low anyway.

Do you drive?: I do! Where I live, it'd be kind of impossible to not have either me or Kei able to do so. Plus I just enjoy it overall, most of the time.

if so have you ever crashed: Nope! I've been driving for like 13 years now (started a little before I turned 15, shhh), and haven't had any accidents.

What was the last book you read?: Uhhh I think it was MDZS book...5? Whichever one just released earlier this month. Otherwise, it was The Starless Crown.

Do you like the smell of gasoline: Diesal, nah. It makes me gag. Regular gas...eh. I'm indifferent to it. Unless it's rancid gasoline, in which case, it also makes me gag.

What was the last movie you saw?: ...I think it was the D&D movie? I'm gonna be honest, I watch very little tv, and very few movies.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: I guess it would be from when I was in like 9th grade? I was sledding with some friends, and we were at this massive hill, having fun and being stupid. It was fine, but there was part of the hill that the snow plows liked to push snow from the parking lot into. So there was a big snow pile off to the side, and because I'm in a state known for the bitter cold, these piles might as well have been-- as I referred to them when I was a teenager-- small glaciers lmao.

Anyway, random fun fact, but the average sled speed on a decently sized hill is like 20mph. (can't remember where I learned that though so don't quote me on it) This hill was especially steep, so I want to say that I was going even faster than that, I got bumped into by one of my friends about 3/4ths of the way down, and slammed into the of one of these frozen slowplow piles full force before I could stop myself or roll off the sled. I hit the entire right side of my body, but mostly my thigh.

The resulting bruise was so severe (It was a bone-deep bruise over most of it. The doctor that saw me afterwards thought I had been in a car crash!), that if you were to touch my right thigh even now, you can still feel the muscular scarring it left. Yeah though, it's from like...just a little above my knee, to just below my hip.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: Probably Eld.en R.ing. I've been on and off of obsession with that since it came out, and obviously rn is one of those "on" periods! Singing is always an obsession of mine, same with dog stuff (specifically training/behavior/health related stuff), aaaand...worldbuilding stuff. Like the deep, almost scientific worldbuilding stuff that I probably won't have any reason to share with anyone else, but will randomly babble at Kei about while she's captive in my car and my mind has clung to one idea in particular.

#[What's she getting us into now? -ooc-]#(You can't tell that I'm in a talkative mood today at all jfc #Yeah as for my playlists though #I tend to have them a lot more separated #and then have one 'master' playlist that I shove everything from all of my playlists into #that I usually use when I can't figure out what kind of music my brain is itching for atm #there's a little bit of everything on there tbh)

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mycptsdstory · 9 months

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Hi, I hope this isn't a bother but I've lately been suspecting I have cPtsd for a little while now. And I don't know how to handle this possibility. Every time I try to talk to my therapist about my trauma I shut down mentally and I am incapable of remembering my trauma or anything bad that's ever happened to me, my vision gets blurry and I feel like I'm not present. I've talked with a few trusted people about this and they are all like yeah that seems very likely. But I'm functioning so well so I don't get why I'm like this, I study full time and such, and I am capable of pretending to be happy and outgoing and people tell me I'm kind and intelligent but I'm just putting up a façade of what I think people want me to be and i constantly have anxiety about doing the wrong thing. I have memories I can't stand remembering and I feel so emotionless.

Do you think stuff like this is similar to/symptoms of cPtsd?

Most people I've asked say it's more likely than what I'm actually diagnosed with

If this is not okay just ignore it but I'm panicking a lot and I don't like that when I'm trying to celebrate Christmas.

It's perfectly normal not to remember certain events. Sometimes, our brains will protect us and purposely make us not remember.

You feel tired, drained is called Hyperarousal. I recently learned this on Reddit because I've been going through the same thing. It's basically where your body is in constant threat. It's like being in flight, fright, freeze and fight mode all the time. Then you feel tired and you can't do much. It's perfectly normal to feel like this.

It does sound like you have been through something horrific and again, your brain is protecting you and making you not remember. It's a good thing. I also definitely think you have PTSD or CPTSD, describing your symptoms.

I also have years of memories where I don't remember what happened. Again, it's our brain protecting us.

I was talking to my therapist about this, she said to me "IF I do remember what happened, i will be in a psych ward for the rest of my life and not living my life. Since I remember that horrific event". I think it's the same with you too.

I'm sorry for what you went through, it's not fun and tbh, I wouldn't try to remember what happened. Especially when you keep going into this Hyperarousal state.

My advice is, when you go into that state. Watch something that you love, re-watch if you have too. Draw, play games, go out for a walk, drive (IF you can). Do whatever makes you happy.

Also, make a playlist for yourself, either Spotify, iTunes, YouTube (whatever app you like to listen too). It should be recent songs and songs you never heard before. It's songs that you recently found, AFTER the events and the years you felt safe. This should help you keep in the now, keep you in the present. Music has been proven to remember memories, but it also keeps us remember where we are, in the now and helps us to stay in the present. Call the playlist "Flashbacks Help" and that should help you. I know it helped me a lot.

I do recommend getting a diagnosis from a psychologist or physiotherapist. Talk to your doctor too and get help that way, it should help you get the right help. Talking therapy, EMDR, behavioural therapy and so on. Find out what works best for you.

Please remember in healing, it's gonna suck. Healing is not a walk in the park and it's certainly not linear. Healing is tough work and yes, I'm very honest about that because people would rather lie to you, to make you feel comfortable and I'm sorry, that's not the truth. The truth is, healing does hurt. But trust me on this, it's so worth it. I wish people would be more honest and open with themselves and other people, how healing sucks.

Furthermore, what works for you, might not work for someone else and that's okay. Nothing wrong with that. We are all different and I love it, that we are different. Embrace your difference.

I hope you do find the help you need and asking for help, is the right step.

I wish you all the best.

If you have anymore questions, I'm always here

#anon ask #cptsd #c ptsd

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synthaphone · 2 years

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any time an artist releases a single and actually makes the mp3 available to purchase i’m like oh thank GOD

#bandcamp saving my life #like yeah i'll toss you a buck for that. anything to add it to my collection rather than having to stream it online or rip it off of youtube #itunes sucks but i love actually HAVING my music #and i don't store it in the cloud or anything i'm just using the itunes music player to listen to it #i need a text post tag

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kindahoping4forever · 3 years

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Feedback // Ashton Irwin

I've been sitting on this fic for a minute so thank you to everyone who's patiently waited for me to post it (shoutout to Sly)! This story was really just me getting inspired and clowning after Ashton's "Down To Earth" IG stream back in April. As always, thanks to @cal-puddies for the invaluable guidance as I tried to pare my writing style down into a pwp format (try being the operative word, 3500 words is still the best we could do lmao).

Warnings: Distracted Boyfriend!Ash, oral sex on a male, moderately rough unprotected sex (on the red leather couch) including mild dirty talk, brief choking and a spank or two.

Word Count: 3535

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let me know what you think!

"Baby! I didn't know you were home!"

You turn around to see Ashton in the doorway of the bedroom, voice as cheerful as the yellow beanie covering his head.

"Didn't hear you come in," he comments, walking over to you.

You slide your arms around your boyfriend’s neck with a sigh. "Rushed up here, phone was about two seconds from shutting off," you explain, greeting him with a tender kiss.

He watches as you kick off your shoes and yank your bra off under your shirt, tossing everything haphazardly in the direction of the closet before flinging yourself on the bed. "Tough day?"

You groan, dragging your hands over your face before extending your arms, encouraging him to join you. “Eh, not great and very long,” you report, giving a satisfied sigh when Ash climbs on the bed and immediately pulls you on top of him, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You do the same and the both of you lay quietly in this prone embrace for several peaceful moments before you break the silence. “How about you, how was your day?”

You feel him shrug under your body. “Can’t complain,” is his simple reply.

“Make anything cool?” You prompt, knowing he’s being low-key because he thinks you need to chill out, not realizing nothing relaxes you more than listening to him talk about his passions.

“Hmm… anything cool...” Ash giggles, hugging you closer. “I dunno, got a good start goin’ on this one track that could be pretty cool, got a nice vibe.”

You raise your head up to look at him and scratch your fingers across his beard, you’re so glad he decided to let it grow again. “Yeah? Tell me more.”

He hums as you continue to rub his face. “Only been at it for a couple hours, ‘s just a track for now, we’ll see what I can do with it,” he breezes, moving your hand from his face to his mouth so he can kiss it.

“Well, whenever you feel like you need a fresh pair of ears, I’d love to hear it,” you enthuse, moving to lay at his side.

He turns to give you a bright grin. “Yeah? A little in-house focus group?” He teases, leaning in for a sweet kiss that starts to get needy the longer it goes on.

You pull off his hat, running your fingers through his long hair as he moves to kiss along your neck. “Don’t know if you know this but I’m a big fan of your work,” you tease back.

He kisses your lips again, biting a bit as he pulls away to quip, “We talking ‘bout my music or something else?”

You giggle, deciding that indulging this frisky mood is exactly how you would like to unwind tonight. You inch closer, pulling him back into a kiss and he responds eagerly, hand coming up to massage at the base of your neck like it always does. For the next few minutes, the only thoughts in your mind revolve around Ashton, how he feels, how he tastes and where you need his mouth or hands on you next.

When you let out a moan at the way his fingers are gripping your skin under your shirt and he doesn’t press himself against you in response, you can tell he’s gotten distracted. You laugh knowingly against his lips, “You’re back to thinking about that song now, aren’t you?”

He looks at you with a sheepish smile. “I was actually still workin’ and came up here just to grab a hoodie when I found you.”

You playfully push him off of you, shaking your head. “Dude, you should’ve told me! You know I’m not one to fuck with The Process,” you admonish, scrunching your nose up at the trail of kisses he pecks over your face as he sits up.

“Nah, my brain needed a break and my girl needed me, it worked out perfectly,” he insists, rubbing your arm affectionately before getting off the bed.

He quickly fishes his desired sweatshirt out of the closet and pulls it on over his t-shirt, mussing his hair even more than you already had. He walks back over, ready to kiss you goodbye when you sit up on your knees to stop him. “I was serious about giving it a listen if ya want,” you say, smoothing his hair down before resting your hands on top of his inside his hoodie pocket. “If you’re not ready that’s fine but just FYI I‘m interested.”

Ash grins at you, squeezing your hands before using them to pull you to your feet. “Aww, you know you’re my fave audience, baby,” he gushes, reaching to grab his hat off the bed. “Let’s go give it a spin.”

“Well. As much as you can ‘spin’ a computer file,” you mutter, trying to annoy him just because it’s fun.

As you head for the door, you hear him snort behind you a split second before he grabs you, sliding his beanie on your head far enough to cover your eyes; you burst into giggles as he playfully bumps into you, passing you in the hallway. “Smart ass,” he grumbles, voice still smiling.

Ash makes it down to the basement first and starts clicking on files and flicking switches, excited to play his work for you. You stop at the foot of the stairs and survey the room with wonder. Multiple guitars - electric, acoustic, bass, 12-string - are strewn across the room, cables run from his computer to the adjacent room where he houses his drums, food delivery containers line the coffee table; he’s clearly been down here since you left this morning.

While he sets up, you make yourself useful, setting the guitars back in their racks, stacking the food trash; when you’re done, you start to drag a chair over to the computer when you notice he’s staring at you like you’ve grown an extra head.

“What are ya mad at me or somethin’?” He scoffs, patting his legs and looking at you expectantly.

You smirk and take a seat in his lap, watching closely as his long fingers fly over the keyboard, hand adeptly working the mouse, making a few final adjustments to the track. You hear a quiet “there we go” under his breath and then he’s settling in, pulling you back against him and rubbing over your thighs as you wait for the song to begin.

It’s a simple demo so far - layered background vocals, drum and bass, some synth, a little guitar line here and there - but he’s right, it’s definitely a vibe. You’re pleased that his reflection is visible in the computer screen, you love seeing him grooving behind you, pursing his lips and nodding his head along to the beat as you feel his fingers tapping along on your waist while he holds you close.

The track is short and before he can even ask your opinion, you tell him to play it again; his face lights up at your request and he proudly complies. When it finishes this time, you shift to look at him and smile. “That’s wild you did that all yourself and in such a short amount of time,” you marvel. “See, I was right, you did do something cool.”

Ashton laughs, kissing the side of your head as he leans forward to reach the keyboard. “You think so? Well, what’s really cool is this…” He starts clicking around again, isolating the different elements and revealing which sounds are electronic and which are live instruments, which section he thinks he’ll write lyrics over tomorrow, where he’s thinking of pasting in more guitar.

You respond when appropriate but mostly you just listen intently, watching fondly as he animatedly details his thought process; this is why you offered to come down here with him, this is the best part about being his “fave audience.” You love his music but more than that, you love how much he loves his music.

He stops mid-explanation of a section to tinker with it, clearly having a brainstorm right in front of you. You curl into his chest, observing quietly as he cycles through effects and begins stacking tracks. He chews his lip, deep in thought as he lets the song play again and you can't help but press a few kisses to his jaw.

Ash continues his work and you continue yours, moving from his jaw to his neck; your kisses eventually become more heated, with you adding tongue and even teeth to the equation. You suck his earlobe into your mouth, wiggling his earring with the tip of your tongue and finally he pulls away, chuckling, "Baby, come on."

You shrug, playing with his hair. "I just love watching you work."

He laughs, "Then goddamn, baby, let me work!" He growls as you nip at his throat and you smile to yourself because you can tell he's already rethinking his request.

"Seems like you shoulda thought about this before you invited a girl down to your basement to listen to some dreamy space pop alien makeout jam," you tease, relishing the feeling of his laughter vibrating his throat under your tongue.

"Can I get you to leave that review when this goes up on iTunes?" He cracks, finally turning his attention to you.

"I might be persuaded," you flirt, humming with victory as he pulls you into a hungry kiss.

Ashton wastes no time returning the affection you showed him, lips devouring yours, hands quickly making their way under your shirt to lazily massage your tits. You’re mid-moan, his fingers just about to make it inside your waistband when suddenly he’s pulling away.

It takes you a beat to realize what’s happened, your body confused by the sudden absence of his touch. You open your eyes to see him busy at the computer again and it’s so absurd to you, you have to laugh.

“Two minutes,” he says half-apologetically, half-distracted, squeezing your thigh but not taking his eyes off the screen.

You smirk to yourself, immediately aware of what your next move is. “Take as long as you need, baby. When genius strikes, you gotta go for it,” you state ominously, not that he notices. Nor does he notice you sliding yourself off his lap and onto the floor between his legs.

You run your hands up and down his thick thighs before letting your touch wander to the front of his jeans, palming over his crotch, happy to find that at least part of him was interested in your makeout session. You can’t decide if you’re more amused or annoyed by his focus but it’s not until your hand is on his cock, freeing him from his pants that he tears himself away from his project.

“Excuse me, ma’am, can I help you with something?”

You lock eyes with him as you stick your tongue out and dramatically lick your hand, coating your palm with saliva before giving his cock a tight squeeze and beginning to stroke him steadily. “I also had a genius idea I was just following through on,” you shrug. “Might take a little longer than two minutes, though, I’m a bit out of practice… my boyfriend’s been pretty busy.”

Ash giggles wildly, both at your joke and your audacity. “You’re crazy, I’m literally about to be done with… fuck…” His retort is interrupted by you, eyes still trained on his, licking long stripes up the sides of his cock, sucking gently at the head before licking your way back down.

“Go ahead and finish your work, baby, I’ll just keep busy until you’re done,” you insist, mischief in your eyes as you look up one last time before taking him into your mouth.

You hear a sharp inhale, a softly chuckled “fuckin’ ridiculous” and then finally, mouse clicks as he attempts to get back to it. You do your best to distract him, bobbing up and down enthusiastically, sucking loudly, humming around him, making sure he knows how much you’re enjoying your task.

It only takes a minute or so for him to get sidetracked by your efforts. “This is a shitty home demo I’ve spent all of 90 minutes on, there’s no way it’s so good you just had to have my cock right here and now,” he insists, struggling to keep his voice steady, not wanting you to hear how affected he is.

You pop off, gingerly playing with his balls as you zing back, “I dunno babe, you guys had plenty of shitty songs on your first album and from what I’ve heard, you did more than alright in the pussy department.”

Ashton’s laughter quickly turns to a strained moan as you slide back down on him, letting him hit the back of your throat. “My bad, didn’t realize I’d shacked up with a groupie,” he jokes. You silently congratulate yourself as you notice him flexing his hand into a fist, knowing he’s trying to keep himself from pressing down on your head.

You pull off him again, making sure to let the spit cascade from your mouth as you smugly reply, “Like I said before: big fan.” Before he can even think about responding, your mouth is back on him.

You’re not surprised he attempts to resume working again; you’re both stubborn, it’s a wonder anything ever gets resolved in your relationship. You can tell he’s trying his best to stay on task but the whispered curses under his breath give him away. As a last resort, he turns the volume on his speaker up a few more notches, hoping the track will drown out the exaggerated choking sounds you’re intent on making.

A few moments later, he reaches down and yanks his beanie off your head. “Fuckin’ bright yellow bouncing over my crotch is hard to ignore,” he grumbles. “All I see is my hat, looks like I’m suckin’ my own dick for all I know.”

You can’t resist continuing to rib him. “How is that not your greatest fantasy? Your favorite person giving you your favorite pleasure?”

He snorts, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, did you want to blow me or roast me?”

You give him your brightest smile and reply, “Unlike you, I’m pretty good at multi-tasking.”

A brief cackle and a clipped “alright” are all you hear before you’re being hoisted up off the ground, thrown over Ash’s shoulder and carried over to the couch across the room. You squeal with surprise and delight as he unceremoniously dumps you on it, briskly strips you both of your clothes and promptly bends you over the red leather.

He nudges your knees further apart, pressing you against the back of the couch. “Of course you’re this fuckin’ wet already,” he teases, breath hot on your neck as he runs himself through your folds. “You think that’s from my cock down your throat or from you winding me up so much?”

Whatever clever comeback you’d thought up dies on the tip of your tongue because suddenly he’s sliding his cock inside you and now that’s all you can care about. You whine as he quickly establishes a vigorous pace, one hand bracing himself against the couch, the other reaching around you, down your torso to reach your clit. “How’s this for multi-tasking?”

A few breathless cries of his name are the best you can manage as he relentlessly plays with you, somehow in perfect rhythm with his rough thrusts, sending your whole body into sensory overload.

“Or how ‘bout this?” He growls, moving his hand from between your legs to your throat, fingers offering just the slightest amount of pressure, knowing it’ll drive you crazy wondering if and when he’ll add more. “Don’t got any more funny jokes for me, baby?”

You moan at his taunting, placing a hand on top of his on your neck, trying to get him to squeeze harder; he refuses and his denial makes you moan even louder. "Jesus, Ash," you pant, pushing back against him to egg him on. “Feels so fucking good.”

You're so caught up that you don't even notice his song is still playing over the speakers until a few moments later when Ashton suddenly pulls out of you, muttering to himself as he grabs the remote from the coffee table and shuts the music off.

Confused, you look back and see him amusedly shaking his head. "Yes, I was still producing that in my head, don’t start," he giggles.

You fall back on the couch, laughing in disbelief. “We’ve gotta get you some hobbies, buddy, that’s insane.”

He snickers, laying you on your back and settling on the couch behind you, pulling your leg over his hip. “I don’t think fucking you counts as a hobby,” he jokes, gripping his cock and slipping it back inside you.

“Not with that attitude,” you quip, a little more breathlessly than you meant to but with how slowly Ash is rocking into you, you can’t help it.

You tilt towards him, angling yourself to pull his mouth down to yours; you’re feeling overwhelmed and you need him close. His tongue traces over your lips, his kiss the familiar reassurance you need in this moment. “Ash…” You whimper quietly, closing your eyes and savoring the feel of his beard grazing your skin.

“I know, baby, me too,” he soothes, cradling you tighter against him. His hips begin to pick up speed and his hand moves to knead your breasts and tug at your nipples before travelling further down.

Ashton rubs slow, tight circles on your clit, stopping to give your thigh a light smack when you start raising your hips a little too eagerly, bucking up in an attempt to get him to move at a speed more to your liking. You moan first at the realization that he’s going to keep teasing you like this and then again, louder, at the sharp slap of his palm that once again comes down on your skin.

“You’ve got a nice tone tonight, baby, I should get you to lay down some vocals for this track,” he jokes, choking back a moan of his own when your surprised laughter causes you to clench around his length.

You chuckle smugly at him, “Not so funny all of a sudden, huh?”

You feel yourself getting closer so you start rolling your hips along with his, murmuring at the feeling of him deep inside you; you grind against his hand playing between your legs and as he finally amps up the pace, your release becomes closer and closer to reality. Your breathing syncs with his in a needy, staccato rhythm that wouldn’t have sounded out of place in his song.

“Is this what you wanted?” He huffs out. Typically when he asks you that while he’s buried in you, there’s a tone of arrogance or punishment behind it but right now as he holds you, your sounds continuing to meld together, it couldn’t feel farther from that.

“Yes, Ash, god yes…” you breathe, reaching to hold onto him as your orgasm overtakes you.

Ashton keeps driving his cock inside you, whining slightly at the feeling of you pulsing around him. You cry out, not realizing how loud or long your moans are until you hear his voice in your ear, gently lulling you back down.

He’s still moving inside you, hips beginning to stutter and when you hear his breath catch, you know he’s there. You tuck yourself into him, cooing, “Come on, Ash... fill me up, babe.” Three strokes later and he’s pumping his cum inside you, gasping your name. He slows his movements, heavy breath underscored by a contented hum as you caress his bearded cheek.

He leans in and kisses you passionately, completely enveloping you, possibly your favorite feeling in the world. He exhales loudly and keeps holding you, kissing over your face tenderly.

You giggle as he indulges for a moment before reluctantly pulling away, reaching for the takeout napkins on the coffee table; he attentively cleans you up and quickly settles back onto the couch, pulling you on top of him.

You lay together, blissed out, while you play with the necklace hanging down on his chest and he strokes over your hair.

“Hey, sorry I gave you such a hard time,” you smile. “Didn’t realize how much I wanted your attention until I didn’t have it anymore.”

He looks at you, amused. “Honestly didn’t notice you acting any differently.”

You jab his side. “Also sorry I talked shit about your first album, I do actually like it quite a bit.”

Ash cackles, tracing designs on your back. “Oh good, I was worried that was going to be what finally drives us apart,” he cracks.

You snicker, nuzzling your head into his chest. You enjoy a few quiet moments together before he begins softly humming an unfamiliar melody and you smile, knowing his creative wheels are turning again.

You lift your head up again to offer one last apology. “I’m sorry I once again disrupted The Process.”

Ashton laughs mischievously, running his hands down your body. “I mean… overall I’d say this was some pretty valuable feedback.”

————-

Thank you to everyone who has signed up for the taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If you signed up and your name is crossed out or not listed, I was unable to tag you, please check your blog settings and either re-sign up or send me a message letting me know you allow mentions now) @notinthesameguey @cxddlyash @2fangirl4u @cashtonasfuck @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @saphseoul @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @himbohood @maggiesupertramp @wiiildflowerrr @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @youngblood199456 @xsongbirdx @loveroflrh @fairytrice @calumrose @irwindoll @polycashton @in-superbloom

#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fic #ashton smut #kindahoping4forever #Feedback #kh4f fic #smut #thank you for reading!#feedback is appreciated #reblogs are gold and reblogs with tags makes you yourself golden #idk why that's a preexisting tag but I'm going with it lmao the point is let me know what you think pls!#this is the last fic I have banked so hopefully my health will chill so I can finish up at least one of those WIPs I've been hyping #also um hello we really don't talk enough about the fact that Ash produced a fucking song live on IG & then just dropped it on Twitter lol #like wtf how blessed were we #and looking like that as well #big sigh

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gothwizardmagic · 3 years

Text

so i know a lot of people are looking at moving away from sp*tify & other streaming platforms in favour of owned music and that’s a move I’m SUPER here to support! one thing i’ve seen people say they would be hesitant to give up is the stats/recommendations available through streaming platforms, so i wanted to make a quick post about a really handy alternative that’s been around for a very long time and does a LOT of the same stuff for free, allowing you to keep stats for & get recs based on music you listen to on your own computer/youtube/wherever else:

last.fm!

I’ve been using last.fm since 2010 and I can’t recommend it enough. it’s really nice being able to keep track of the music i’ve listened to most, and i’ve gotten some really cool recs off the site. last.fm uses a small piece of software called a ‘scrobbler’ (whatever tf that means) to track music played through your player of choice (for reference, i use the itunes scrobbler on win10, though they have options for other programs & even youtube/spotify/whatever streaming thing. there are apps as well if you use a smart device, though i can’t say much abt that from experience cause my ipod is Very Broken and wont connect to wifi anymore)

HERE ARE A FEW COOL FEATURES

RECOMMENDATIONS OF ALL KINDS INCLUDING A REC STATION

TRACK HISTORY:

GOING BACK AS FAR AS YOU LIKE

TOP ARTIST/SONG/ALBUM STATS AVAILABLE WHENEVER YOU WANT:

AND ABLE TO BE CUSTOMISED TO DIFFERENT TIME PERIODS

COOL STATS AVAILABLE IN UR WEEKLY LISTEN REPORT

last.fm truly has it all!

A FEW BUGBEARS

I won’t rec the site without mentioning a few things that are less than ideal abt it unfortunately cause i don’t wanna be That Guy who hypes something up without mentioning the issues

1) PAID FEATURES a few things are paid features that really shouldnt be. a few of the stat options are hidden behind paywalls which sucks but ok make that money girl. the thing that really baffles and frustrates me is that changing your username is a paid feature. i do not... use the username i chose in 2010 anymore, and i would really like to change it, but... alas. so if you do sign up make sure you LIKE the name you choose cause its forever. that said, the actual functionality of the site is entirely free and always has been. will also add that last.fm pro is not actually very expensive - $3 a month, or $2.50 + 2 free months if you pay for a year at once. and it does come with some p cool additional stat features so like. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

2) KINDA BUGGY SOMETIMES part of why it took me a while to make this post is that my rec page was just not working for a few weeks. no idea why, it’s fixed now, but last.fm is not a HUGE site with a HUGE budget, and things do break sometimes. i’ve never seen it break to a point of unusability, but it is worth being aware that they’re a small company compared to spotify/apple etc and things do go wrong sometimes.

all that said i rec last.fm VERY HEARTILY its a GOOD SERVICE and i love STATS and RECOMMENDATIONS and HISTORY if we r mutuals add me and dont judge the username i chose in 2010

#i cannot say enough good shit abt last.fm i rly love it

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heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

Drivers License

(inspired by drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.5k

And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about

This song is so sad and it made me cry so I had to write something about it 🤧

“I love the song.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N chewed on her bottom lip, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “But?” she asked her producer, who was on the phone. “You don’t sound like you love it.”

“Of course I love it, Y/N. It’s just–” Came a pause. “Do you really want this to be the next single?”

“What do you mean? You love it but it’s not good enough to be a single?”

“It’s too good, Y/N,” her producer said. “It’s very...personal.”

“That’s why I want to put it out, Gray. It means a lot to me.”

Gray was quiet for another moment. “The media and his fans are going to come for you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright. I’ll call you back.” Gray sounded defeated but she could still sense a smile as he told her, “Good job, kid,” before hanging up.

Y/N put her phone away, tossed her head back and heaved a sigh. She was well aware of the trouble she’d cause by releasing this song. It’d be like showing the whole world her diary. She’d written plenty of songs on her previous albums about her relationships, too. There had been witch hunts simply because the men she’d written songs about had fans who worshipped them and refused to see them as anything less than perfect. She wasn’t perfect, either. If she were perfect, she wouldn’t have written a song about an ‘almost’ relationship. She’d know her worth and not have chased someone who didn’t and would never want her. She knew that now. So this song would be the last thing she’d give this person. The last goodbye that she never got to say.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing.”

“Let me see,” Y/N giggled and tried to grab his phone as he pretended to fight her off.

“Alright, alright.” He laughed, reached out to turn the music in his car down and handed her the phone. “It’s the memes your fans made about you not being able to drive,” he said, suppressing a grin.

Her jaw dropped. “I hate you!”

“I’m sorry. It slipped out,” he said, laughing again. She could listen to his laugh on replay. She loved his music, but his laugh had to be her most favourite melody. “To be fair, you talked a lot of shit about me in that interview, too.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she scoffed at the smug look he was wearing. “At least I didn’t tell the whole world about your imaginary friend that you had until you were thirteen. You spilt my secret.”

“Not a secret anymore.”

She playfully smacked him on the arm. “My lawyer will hear about this.”

He pouted, pretending to be upset. “Guess we’ll never work together anymore.”

“Acting is not for me anyway.”

Y/N gave Harry back his phone. He took it but didn’t break eye contact as his brows knitted. “Stop saying that. You were great in the movie.”

She rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Oh please, have you been on the internet?”

“You mean my fans’ reactions, right? Just ignore them.” He breathed. “I mean, I love my fans, but they could be too much sometimes. Just look at all my previous relationships. I can’t even breathe around a female without them sending her death threats.”

“Yeah,” Y/N let out a nervous laugh, hands folded together resting on her knees. “Speaking of relationships,” she ventured, “are you talking to someone new?”

She wasn’t looking at him yet she could feel the heat from his gaze as he told her, “No. I already told you, Y/N. Right now there’s just you.”

Harry turned, putting both hands on his steering wheel. Was he nervous as well? Had she ruined the moment by bringing this up?

He took a deep breath, confirming her assumption. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just not ready for a relationship.”

It was the same line he’d told her times and times again, and she wished she could just tell him how much she loathed it. And since she couldn’t say anything, she just nodded and focused on the rings on her fingers.

“I do care a lot about you, though,” he added, his voice heavy with emotions.

Her friends had told her that men would say things like this, and most of the time they barely meant half of it. However, she’d known Harry for years. Their relationship had only changed since they’d been cast for the same movie earlier this year. She was confident that she knew him better than her friends or anyone else. Surely, he’d meant all the things he’d said to her. The problem was, he just wasn’t ready for a relationship.

“And I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he said, now looking at her again.

She turned slowly and met his thoughtful green eyes. She offered a single smile as a way to tell him she wasn’t upset, even though she was, a little bit. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she admitted.

His dimples reappeared. “I feel like it’s rare for people like us to find a connection like this, and I’ve never opened up to anyone the way I have to you. But I think now isn’t the time for us to take the risk of ruining this. Right now we’re still trying to figure out our own lives, you know?”

She nodded again, not knowing what to say.

They sat quietly for another moment, and it was he who broke the silence. “How come you never learn to drive?”

She could feel her cheeks glowing red. “I never had to drive myself.”

She’d been famous since she was fourteen, so she’d always had people driving her places. Whenever she told anyone that reason, they’d either call her spoiled to her face or give her a judgemental look that made her feel self-conscious. She didn’t have a dad or siblings, her mum didn’t know how to drive, either, and she was too afraid to ask anyone to teach her for she feared they’d judged her.

“I could teach you.”

Y/N whipped her head up and blinked blankly at him. “Really?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “I have a cousin who didn’t learn to drive when he was young because of his anxiety and I taught him. I could teach you.”

Trying to hide her excitement, Y/N smiled. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” His grin widened even though he was the one doing her a favour. It was moments like this that reassured her that he wasn’t like the other guys who’d broken her heart. “When you got your driver license,” he said, “you can drive up to my house on your own.”

“We can even go on road trips,” she said happily, already imagining the many scenarios in her head.

He seemed equally elated, which made her heart swell. “Yeah! Wanna do it now or–”

“Let’s do it now.”

“Yeah, okay.” Quickly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. She climbed into the driver seat and watched him settle into the passenger side. That afternoon was the first time she’d learned how to drive. She would always remember that.

“Y/N, you’re up next,” said one member of the backstage staff who handed Y/N her mic and ran off to check on the backing vocalist.

Y/N felt her heart thumping in her chest as she clutched the microphone to her chest and sucked in a deep breath. She looked to her right, peering at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She looked beautiful. The makeup team and her stylist had spent three hours on this look and made sure that she was flawless.

Would he be watching the show tonight?

Had he even listened to the song?

It got to number one on the iTunes chart today. He must have listened to it. If not, he must have heard it on the radio or someone must have sent it to him. The whole world knew the song was for him, and everyone was talking about it. So even though he didn’t care anymore, even though he was happy with his new girlfriend, he must be wondering. Because when she’d heard that he’d written a song about her, she’d been so excited to listen to it. So could it be that he was wondering as well?

“This is Y/N performing her latest single DRIVERS LICENSE!”

Y/N took a deep breath as she got a nod from the stage director. She stepped out, soaked in the stage lights while the audience applauded and cheered for her. She stood at the centre of the stage as the band started playing and the noise in the audience died down. As a habit, she searched the front rows for his face despite knowing with every fibre in her body that this would be the last place he’d be tonight.

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

She could see it even now. Them driving through the quiet night. From her house to his and back. Just the two of them. The kisses they’d share at stoplights when there was no one else around. The way he’d place his hand on her thigh just because he wanted to. In retrospect, she should have realised that he wouldn’t ever do that to her in public. Their relationship, if she could call it that, had been almost nonexistent. Maybe that was why it’d been so easy for him to move on. You couldn’t feel remorse leaving behind something that didn’t exist. How unfortunate. It’d been real to her.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

She’d thought to herself that if he could write a song about someone he’d never dated, it was worth staying with him despite not actually being with him. She could not expect that a few months after that song had come out, he would be seen driving around with another girl. The girl he’d told her was only a good friend. This girl was older and perfect in every way. Y/N wouldn’t choose herself either if the choices were between her and that girl. But she couldn’t bring herself to hate the girl. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that Harry had chosen her. And it wasn’t Harry’s fault that Y/N refused to see the red flags through her rose-coloured glasses.

And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Y/N wrote this song a week after she’d got her drivers license. She’d blast sad music in her car and cried as she drove past his house, wondering if he was still up and thinking of her whenever he saw headlights passing his street. The heartbreak had been confusing to her as they weren’t even together. It was funny how the whole world had believed in them, except for him. He’d told her he loved her, so why weren’t they together now? He’d said he wasn’t ready, so why was he holding hands with someone else on the street? Was it because of her? Was it something that she’d done? Was there something wrong with her? Why couldn’t he choose her? Y/N had pondered over those questions for months until she came to accept that there didn’t have to be a reason for someone to leave you. They simply lost feelings or found someone else. No one owed you an explanation.

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

For months, he'd been a ghost living rent-free in her head. She saw him in every face and every crowd, and she could even, in this moment, hear the sound of his laugh somewhere in the audience. She could hear him telling her he was proud of her, that everything would be okay. And the worst part was that, without her, he was still doing fine. He wouldn’t see her everywhere he went. He wouldn’t think about her when he was lying in bed and couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t wonder if she missed him. Because he didn’t miss her. And he would be saying the same things he’d said to her to his new girl.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe (Ooh, ooh)

There on the stage, she received sympathetic looks from the people in the front row as she cried her heart out to the lyrics. He might be at home this moment, watching the show with his new girlfriend, and seeing her cry on live television. Would they laugh at her together? Would he turn to his girlfriend and say he was sorry for how he’d treated Y/N and promised to never hurt his girlfriend the same way? The most heartbreaking thing, Y/N thought, wasn’t him leaving, but seeing him treat someone the way she’d wanted to be treated and realising that he’d been capable of doing it all this time, just not with her.

I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Putting all her feelings into this song had made everything seem so much simpler and clearer. And at the end of the day, Y/N believed that the whole purpose of songwriting was to get closure. Perhaps, one day, when she listened to this song again, she wouldn’t be sad anymore.

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

“Good job, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Love the song! You’re amazing.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N faked a few more smiles then shut the door of her dressing room and slumped into her chair in front of the vanity.

All alone, she looked right at her reflection and took a deep breath.

Her phone buzzed and lit up with a new text message.

Harry: Congratulations on your no 1 :) xx

She pondered over the words, picked up her phone, and deleted his contact.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #drivers license

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

"different young (rebound) hunk on his arm every week…newton geiszler who?" CAN YOU WRITE THIS FIC PLEASE? Hermann as the new heartthrob of the science world, cheekbones that can cut glass, baby gay scientists everywhere using appalling math-related pick-up lines in an attempt to be the booty call of the week. Newton catches a glimpse of him at a fundraiser and the Precursors have to stop him from crying with lust.

so tragically I plotted a whole fic for this and then came back and realized this prompt involves PRU but I liked my idea too much so unfortunately I won’t be filling the PRU part 😔 but I DO love heartthrob hermann sooooooooo. this can be pre-PRU if you want to make it sad actually CW for drinking and mild allusion to not sfw stuff. when will these boys talk about their feelings?

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

Hermann doesn’t like going out to bars at the best of times, least of all after he’s had the sort of exceptionally long day he’s had today (fighting his way through airports and hotel lobbies, fielding interview questions, having not even a minute’s break from Newton), but even he will admit that the one Newton has dragged him along to tonight could be far worse. The sorts of bars Newton fancied throughout their stint at the Hong Kong Shatterdome tended to be far hipper, far more becoming for a man of his (and, admittedly, Hermann’s) age, and likely aimed at tourists: pounding music, dark rooms, neon lighting, overpriced drinks, an inability to navigate through throngs of dancing bodies without bumping into at least half a dozen people. For that reason Hermann’s blood practically ran cold earlier that evening when, fresh out of their latest television interview, Newton insisted that Hermann needed to unwind a little. That Newton would help him unwind a little.

Hermann was pleasantly surprised to find that though the music (a live band) is still loud, and drink prices are still inflated, at least he can see Newton, and at least the few people dancing are dancing far away from them. And, well, perhaps it’s made him more amenable to (mostly) matching Newton drink-for-drink, and to indulging him in knocking back not one, but two rounds of the most disgusting-looking pink shots of all time, and— “Look, dude,” Newton declares, tossing an arm around Hermann’s shoulder. He’s shouting and leaning in too-close to Hermann, not because he’s intoxicated, but rather to be heard over the band, which has launched into a rather enthusiastic cover of some song Hermann’s sure he’s heard blaring from Newton’s iTunes before. His stubble tickles the shell of Hermann’s ear. “Just say it with me. It’s that easy. R-e-t-i-r-e-m—”

“We are thirty-five,” Hermann says. “We can’t just—”

“We absolutely can,” Newton says. He nudges his cocktail glass into Hermann’s chest, sloshing a bit of hot pink Watermelon Crush on his neat button-up. Hermann stifles a sigh; the shirt is brand new, bought just that morning for the interview, and will already be needing a wash. And smelling like liquified hard candy for the rest of the evening. “You and me, lying on a beach somewhere, sleeping in until noon every day, learning how to—to fish, or paint, or whatever the hell we want—”

“Not a beach,” Hermann says immediately. “I’m bloody well sick of beaches. Oceans, lakes, bays—no more."

Indulging Newton’s ridiculous little fantasy, even for a moment, is a mistake: Newton’s face lights up in a grin, and he tucks his arm around Hermann’s shoulder to pull Hermann flush against him. Hermann’s barstool wobbles dangerously. “Okay, no beaches. Far away from any coastline. The mountains, then.” It’d be just their luck, Hermann thinks, if the next Breach reopened far away from the ocean, too. Like it followed them somehow. “Let’s move to Switzerland or something and buy a log cabin or a cave and become weird recluses. I’ll learn how to ski, and you can grow a beard, and we can buy all our furniture at Ikea—” He frowns. “Is Ikea from Switzerland? Sweden? I haven’t been since college.”

“I don’t recall ever agreeing to move anywhere with you in the first place,” Hermann says, “let alone retire to do so. What on earth makes you think I’d follow you to Switzerland? I’ve no interest whatsoever in Switzerland.”

“Uh, because we’re best friends?” Newton says. “Anyway, what else would you do?”

“Anything,” Hermann says. He begins to tick off all the possibilities on his fingers while Newton watches him, unimpressed. “I could stay in Hong Kong—I’m sure they’d appreciate help monitoring what remains of the Breach. Or I could move back to England and resume my old teaching post, if they’d have me.” Hermann knows they’d have him; they’ve already sent him at least a dozen emails practically begging him to accept tenure. “Or back to Germany, with my parents.”

“I could totally do all that, too,” Newton says. “Well—not the Germany thing. No offense, dude, but your parents kinda suck. I don’t think I want them as my roommates.”

Hermann decides not to mention that the odds are very high they would not want Newton as a roommate, either. He’s tempted to ask Newton if he meant what he said about them being best friends—for Hermann can’t recall the last time someone called him their best friend, if ever—but Newton’s arm is slipping from his shoulders, and Newton is pulling out his mobile phone and tapping away frantically at it. Hermann feels strangely bereft without his touch. “Okay,” Newton says, his eyes scanning the screen, “Ikea was founded in Sweden, but they moved headquarters in—”

“Excuse me?”

Hermann and Newton both startle, Newton nearly dropping his phone, and the bartender who’d interrupted them smiles apologetically. He’s holding a pint of what appears to be beer. “Sorry to bother you guys,” he says to them, “but this is from the young man over there in the pink shirt.”

At the sight of the drink Newton brightens and puffs out his chest visibly. Bloody perfect, Hermann thinks. Just want Newton needs—another boost to his ego. “No sweat,” Newton says. He tosses his mobile to the bar counter casually and reaches to accept the glass. “Please tell him I’m super flattered, but—”

“Actually, sir,” the bartender interrupts, and—to Hermann’s surprise—slides the glass away from Newton’s grasp and over to Hermann. Hermann takes it without a word, not quite daring to believe it. Down the bar, out of the corner of his eye, he can see the flash of a bright pink shirt, but he can’t quite make himself turn to acknowledge the mystery admirer. Is that rude of him? No one has ever sent him a drink before. He’s not quite sure of the etiquette. “It’s, um, not for you.”

Newton deflates like a popped balloon. A blush spreads across his cheeks, barely visible beneath his freckles, which have come out again in the spring sunlight now that they’re not spending all their time in the Shatterdome basement. Hermann likes the look of them; he thinks they’re sweet, and that if he traced his fingertip across them they’d make a pattern of some sort, like a constellation. Not that he ever would, of course. Newton would surely ridicule him. "Right, duh,” Newton says.

He waits until the bartender is gone to round on Hermann. “Dude!” he says, almost accusatory, “Fourth time this week!”

“It is not,” Hermann protests. It’s weak to his own ears: even he isn’t thick enough to miss the sudden influx of attention he’s gotten since their first television interview last month. Hermann was never exactly popular, never exactly the sort the drive people wild with lust or romantic longing, yet it seems as if he can’t go anywhere these days without turning a few heads (including mid-twentysomething heads, mortifyingly enough) and getting a few cellular numbers slipped into his hand. Yesterday, a young man on the metro asked Hermann if he might like to see a movie some time. The day before that, another man wearing a jean jacket full of enamel pins stepped up to Hermann in a Starbucks and asked him if he could call-cu-later. Last week, a starry-eyed college student stopped Hermann outside a hotel to ask him to sign his Calculus 3 textbook, excitedly telling Hermann he switched degrees to astrophysics not a few days prior after reading an interview with Hermann in a rather obscure pop science magazine, and had blushed when Hermann thanked him. Newton had laughed at that one, and advised the young man to give biology a shot instead. (Newton had gotten very cross when he was promptly ignored, and in referencing the incident later, rather bitterly called the student an annoying little punk.)

This is to say nothing, of course, of the multiple news articles (listicles, as Newton calls them) Newton has forced him to read about himself on something called Buzzfeed, which have apparently helped to cement Hermann’s fifteen minutes of fame. One was called Twelve Times Dr. Hermann Gottlieb Was A Fashion Icon and was accompanied with a rather embarrassing array of candid photos of Hermann. Newton has been particularly incensed over that one.

“It is,” Newton says. “At least third. You know, I think the worst part is that you’re not even getting laid. Dudes are throwing themselves at you left and right—”

“Am I meant to go home with any random stranger who shows me the briefest bit of attention?” Hermann snaps. “I like to think I have somewhat higher standards than that.” I’m not like you, he nearly adds, but decides that it might perhaps be too cruel, especially considering that Newton has not gotten a fraction of the attention Hermann has over the past month. He remembers what it used to be like in the Shatterdome, is all; Newton seemed to like anyone who would give him the time of day. Most of his romances didn’t fare well for that reason.

“I’m just saying you could, and you’re not,” Newton says.

Hermann taps his finger against the pint glass, watching bubbles release from the side and rise to the top. When he finally takes a sip, it makes him wrinkle his nose. He’s not usually much for drinking. “I don’t like IPAs,” he says.

“I’ll take it,” Newton says, and the corner of his mouth hitches up in a grin, “as long as your boyfriend won’t get offended.”

Considering that Newton has only just finished following up his two shots with a cocktail, Hermann questions the decision, but slides him the glass anyway. Newton starts on it at once. Hermann wonders if he’ll need to call them a rideshare back to their hotel tonight; he’s not sure he can manage guiding a intoxicated Newton through the streets of the city on foot, especially not after a day that’s been rather unkind on his hip. “Only I suppose I have trouble believing it,” Hermann admits.

“Believing what?” Newton says.

“That they’re genuinely interested,” Hermann says.

To Hermann’s surprise, Newton snorts. “Nah, dude. You’ve got—” He taps Hermann’s chest, and leaves his hand there. “—sex appeal. You’ve got the, like, soulful eyes, and the movie star eyelashes, and the cheekbones and—” He drags his fingertip along Hermann’s jaw, and Hermann masks his sharp flinch in a cough, hoping Newton can’t feel his face heating up. He doesn’t remember if Newton has ever touched his face before. It feels shockingly intimate. “People think it’s super hot.” He takes another sip of Hermann’s drink. "Plus, you’re so—like—uptight. It makes people wonder what you’re bottling up.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “Bottling up?”

“In a sexy way,” Newton clarifies.

He settles his hand back on Hermann’s chest. Hermann licks his lips. Has Newton wondered those sorts of things about him, too? “You’ve had—too much to drink,” he says.

“A little bit,” Newton agrees. “I’m right, though. I like this shirt, by the way, it’s a nice cut on you.” He toys with one of the shirt’s buttons, and when he speaks again it’s in a low voice that makes Hermann’s mouth feel strangely dry. Hermann has never heard it from him before. “Wanna go back to the hotel and rent a movie or something?”

He’s peering at Hermann through his eyelashes, smiling in an odd little way. How terribly close they are to each other, Hermann realizes. He can count every tiny scratch in Newton’s eyeglasses, every fleck of gold in his eyes, every freckle on his cheeks. He wonders if Newton really wants to rent a movie; he wonders what Newton would do if Hermann closed the inch between them, and... “I,” Hermann stammers, gaze fixed on Newton’s mouth (stained pinker from his drink), “er, yes, only—only I feel as if I ought to thank the gentleman who sent me—”

At once, Newton drops away from him. His face hardens. His smile hardens, too. “Oh, right. I forgot,” he says. He inclines his head down the bar. “Pink shirt, right?”

Hermann casts his eyes about, searching for the pink-shirted stranger. When he doesn’t immediately spot him, a small bubble of relief swells within him. Perhaps he left, perhaps he decided he’s not interested in Hermann after all, perhaps Hermann is free to go back to the hotel with Newton and watch a film and argue about retirement and… “Oh, there,” Newton says. A man catches Hermann’s eye and waves timidly. He’s wearing a pink button-up.

“Bugger,” Hermann mutters. His admirer is not unattractive—in fact, he’s the opposite, with curly hair and glasses even thicker than Newton’s—which Newton seems to notice, too. He claps Hermann on the shoulder, hard enough that Hermann sways with it.

“He’s totally cute,” Newton says, “and he’s totally into you. You gotta at least get his number.” He takes another large sip of Hermann’s drink. “Better yet, get yourself laid. You could use it.”

Hermann feels the oddest sense of whiplash. Just a minute prior, he was about to kiss Newton (and he was pretty sure Newton was going to kiss him back), and now Newton is practically throwing him at another man. Hermann does not want to get anyone’s phone number—he wants to fall asleep in his stiff hotel bed to some absolutely awful science-fiction movie Newton picks out. “Newton,” he says, “weren’t we going to—?”

“No biggie, we can do movie night tomorrow instead,” Newton says. He nudges Hermann’s calf with the toe of his boot, and holds out his cane to him. Hermann feels his heart begin to sink. “I won’t wait up for you. Just give me a heads up if he wants to go back to our place, and I’ll make sure to stay out longer.”

“I’m sure it’ll only take a moment,” Hermann says. He’ll make sure it only takes a moment.

“No biggie,” Newton repeats. He raises his glass to Hermann in a mock toast. “Good luck!”

When Hermann looks back over his shoulder, halfway to the man in the pink shirt, it’s to see Newton’s stool vacant, and the back of Newton’s leather jacket swishing out the bar doors.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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amispnrewatch · 3 years

Text

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

#SPN 1x06 #amispnrewatch #reclaiming spn #performing!dean #lawboy #bi!dean #dean x cassie #dean x lee #stiles stilinski #void!stiles #teen wolf #dean deserved better

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

You Got That Look In Your Eyes (Part 2)

Summary: Dean is back in town to take the reader on their first date...

Part 1

Pairing: Rockstar!Dean x reader

Square: Rockstar!AU

Word Count: 3,100ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo

______

“Who’s the hot date with?” teased Eileen, munching on a bowl of popcorn on your bed.

“She’s not telling apparently,” said Donna, stealing a handful from the bowl.

“That’s also the third time you’ve put on that dress,” said Eileen.

“It’s definitely edgy,” said Donna.

“You mean slutty,” said Eileen.

“Guys,” you groaned. “I asked you to come over to help me.”

“If you’re going for slutty, that’s the one,” said Donna, rolling off the bed as you threw your head back. “Alright, alright.”

Donna walked into the closet and you lay down on the bed face first.

“I take it you’re over douchebag,” said Eileen. You nodded and she laughed, rolling you into your back. “You just did your makeup. Come on.”

“Well it’s too much,” you said, going into your bathroom and washing off your face.

“Is she having a meltdown cause I totally just found the perfect outfit,” said Donna.

“Y/N? You freaking out on us?” asked Eileen.

“It’s just a guy,” said Donna, wandering into the doorway, holding up a flowery dress and your ripped denim jacket you forgot you even owned.

“That’s cute,” you said, wiping off your face.

“Wear your booties with it and this guy will be all over you,” said Eileen. “So who exactly has got you all in a twist?”

“You don’t know him,” you said, taking the clothes from Donna.

“Go light. It’ll go better with that,” said Eileen.

“Do you want to do my makeup for me?” you asked.

“I’d love to,” she said, grabbing your mascara out of your hand.

“Eileen,” you sighed, letting her turn your cheek.

“Fine. But I get to do your hair,” she said, slapping the tube back in your palm.

Half an hour later you stood in front of your mirror, hair in a fishtail braid and smoothing out your dress.

“I bet this guy is gonna love that,” said Donna over your shoulder.

“Well he’s gonna be here soon so…” you said, all three of your heads whipping around when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” they both said, skirting out of your room.

“Guys!” you said, both pausing at the top of your stairs. “Can you two please reign it in? And like not be here when I get back later? I like this guy.”

“Well she’s been smiling goofily at her phone the past three weeks. I hope she likes him,” said Donna as you headed down the stairs.

“Please stay up here until I’m gone?” you asked.

“Duh,” they both said.

“Thank you,” you said, jogging down the stairs and quickly opening the front door.

“Hi, sweetheart,” said Dean with a big smile, handing over a small batch of flowers. “You look beautiful.”

“What’s he look like?” you heard whispered from the balcony.

“I can’t see. He brought her flowers though. Point one for him,” said back Eileen. Dean chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“Roommates?”

“Annoying ass friends who should go away now!” you shouted up the stairs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. I have been looking forward to this for weeks,” he said.

“You look pretty. Handsome. Pretty handsome,” you said, putting a hand on your face.

“I already know you’re a dork,” he laughed. “But thank you. You ready to go?”

“Let me just stick these in some water,” you said, jogging to the back of the house. You set them in a tall glass for now and headed back to the foyer, slipping on your shoes.

“So,” said Dean, wrapping his hand around yours once you were outside and walking to what looked like a nice rental car. “Your friends sound fun. Let me guess. Eileen and Donna?”

“How’d you know?” you asked.

“Oh, you’re always talking about your besties. It’s cute. I’m glad you got them around,” he said.

“They’re annoying...and they want me to get over the douchebag,” you said.

“Are you?” he asked. “We can keep this completely platonic if you want.”

“I am and I didn’t say I wanted to do that,” you said. Dean hummed, giving you a small nod.

“Good cause you have been flirting with me like crazy,” he said, smirking as he walked around the other side of the car.

“Keep it up, Winchester, keep it up.”

“Jeez,” you said twenty minutes later when you were downtown. “Am I dressed up enough?”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “I’m the one in jeans. Come on.”

You followed him into one of the arguably nicest restaurants in town and started to frown.

“I hope I’m not disappointing you but I just wanted to say hi to a friend quick. I haven’t seen him in a while,” said Dean.

“Oh. That’s cool,” you said, surprised when you started to head back into a kitchen and poked one of the cooks in the shoulder.

“Deano?” he said as he spun around.

“Hey Benny,” said Dean, getting wrapped up in a big hug. “Been awhile.”

“I haven’t seen you in a year, brother. So you think that little music thing is ever gonna work out for ya?” he teased.

“Who knows? You ever think that cooking thing will work out for you?” laughed Dean.

“Good seeing you. You look happier than I’ve seen lately,” he said, looking at you. “Well hello. You are far too attractive for my friend here.”

“This is Y/N,” said Dean.

“The Y/N?” smiled Benny. “Wow. Dean’s got such a crush on you.”

“Thank you, Benjamin,” said Dean.

“I think your friends would get along with mine,” you laughed.

“You got any friends as half as good looking as you and I’m all in,” said Benny.

“Down, Benny,” said Dean.

“You guys eating here?” asked Benny.

“Nah. Just wanted to stop by,” said Dean. “Tour’s ending soon so I should be around more.”

“Well let me know. We’ll grab a bite and a drink at my place,” said Benny. “Actually how about at yours, rich boy.”

“I technically still live at home,” said Dean. “I don’t even have a house.”

“That’s because you’re indecisive,” said Benny. “Now you two go enjoy your date.”

“Later, Benny,” said Dean, leasing you back outside of the restaurant. “Thanks for that. I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“It’s no problem. He’d probably get along with Donna if I think about it,” you said.

“Donna’s a cop, right?” he asked. “Benny would love that.”

“Well maybe if this goes well...we can have a little get together,” you said. “When you’re done with your tour.”

“I can’t wait to just sit down and do absolutely nothing,” he said. “Just sit with a guitar and just enjoy playing.”

“You still enjoy it?” you asked, walking with Dean along the sidewalk.

“The music, sure. It’s pretty cool hearing a song you wrote sung back to you by a ton of people. Hearing it on the radio is pretty incredible too. But I don’t really like the famous part. I hate going to events and stuff like that. I’d rather be hanging out or having a backyard bonfire,” he said.

“I get that,” you said. “I think you should stick with it though.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Take a break, get your head on straight, get some good people around you. You’re not some rookie anymore,” you said.

“True. Not been much in the mood to write until recently,” he said.

“You know this is going to sound bad but I totally went and bought your album on iTunes,” you said.

“Well I appreciate it,” he chuckled.

“Wanna know my favorite song?”

“Baby,” he said, your eyes wide. “You seem like a Baby girl.”

“I know it’s not the song that was a hit-“

“It is actually the worst selling one if you can believe it,” he said.

“I really like that one,” you said.

“You know that song isn’t about a girl? It’s about that car my dad and I are fixing up. We call her Baby,” said Dean.

“I like it cause it’s a little sad,” you said.

“I wrote that when I found out I was going on tour,” he said.

“I like it,” you said with a shrug.

“I’ve been working on another song. This one actually is about a girl,” he said.

“A break up song?” you asked.

“A getting together song,” he said. “You know, when you got a new relationship, that sort of thing.”

“Oh really,” you said.

“Totally different girl, not you,” he teased.

“What’s her name?”

“...shut up,” he said, smiling when you grabbed onto his arm. “I mainly got the chords down is all.”

“Is it a happy song?”

“Very,” he said.

“Good,” you said, Dean swinging your hands together. “Where we eating dinner?”

“You’ll see.”

“I love the food trucks,” you said, halfway through your fish taco ten minutes later. “The douche hated them.”

“A cheater and he doesn’t like great food? What’s wrong with this guy,” said Dean, shoveling some brisket in his mouth.

“We work together,” you said. “Sorry. I’ll shut up about him.”

“He an ass at work?” asked Dean.

“No. It’s awkward. He cheated on me with one of our co-workers,” you said. “Work sucks right now.”

“Take some time off, recharge,” he said. “Get away from those guys.”

“I can’t. The company is paying off my student loan if I worked for them for five years. I still have three to go,” you said.

“I could pay off your loan,” he said.

“Thanks but no,” you said.

“How about a year from now if we’re still dating and you haven’t gotten rid of me and work still sucks, I can pay it off so you can be happier someplace else,” he said.

“Sure, why not,” you laughed.

“I think my odds of a second date just went up,” he said. You bumped his hip and he returned it, enjoying his fries before he started to tense up. “Can we go?”

“Yeah. Everything okay?”

“Somebody’s watching us,” he said. You looked around, Dean grabbing your hand and quickly walking the two of you out of there. “Looked like some paparazzi person.”

“You really hate being famous huh,” you said.

“Yup,” he said.

“Let’s head back to the car. I got a private place we can go.”

“You took me to a murder barn,” laughed Dean as you pulled him up the stairs.

“It’s...it’s just a quiet place,” you said, guiding Dean over to the open doors up on the second floor, sitting down and dangling your feet over the edge.

“Oh,” he said as he sat down, the night sky on full display. “That’s pretty. How’d you find this place?”

“A few friends and I were riding bikes when we were kids and this huge storm rolled in. We were way outside of where we were supposed to be and we spotted this place and hunkered down here until the storm passed. It’s always kinda been a safe place,” you said.

“Thanks for showing it to me,” he said, finding your hand and lacing it together with yours. “I like you, Y/N.”

“I kinda hoped so after all the flirty texts,” you said.

“You started it,” he said.

“You started texting me first!” you said.

“Cause I knew you’d never text me first. I bet a part of you thought that was a game I was playing,” he said.

“It was a very small part,” you said. “But I don’t think that anymore.”

“I don’t like games. Not those kinds of ones anyway,” he said.

“What games do you like?” you asked.

“I was always a fan of hide and go seek,” he said, hopping up. “Count to a hundred?”

“And if I win?”

“Bragging rights...and maybe I can swipe some extra passes for your friends,” he said with a smile. “Although you don’t have to win to get those.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. You’d have more fun hanging out with them and I’d like to hang out with ‘em. Now, beautiful. Come and catch me.”

“How are you so good at that?” said Dean as you were sat on the hood of baby, eating some fast food take out and sipping on a pair of beers from your six pack an hour later. “Hide and seek.”

“Older brothers,” you said. “Four older brothers to be exact.”

“I see. You were thoroughly traumatized as a child then,” he chuckled.

“Oh, for sure,” you said. “But I got to annoy the shit out of them.”

“My little brother would agree with you on that,” he said. “Is this okay for like, a first date? I know you were probably expecting better than McDonald’s at one in the morning.”

“I like this first date. It’s simple and we’re not stuck in some restaurant where we can't hear each other talk and it’s fun to just bounce around, ya know?” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Simple’s nice. I like simple.”

“I still can’t believe you’re dating this guy,” said Eileen, shoveling a few chips in her mouth in the VIP room the next night.

“Want me to do a background check on him?” asked Donna.

“Don, no,” you said.

“Too late,” she said.

“And…” you said.

“Clean record. Apparently he and a friend went for a bit of a little speeding on the highway one night in said friend’s dad’s truck when they were teens. They just scared the shit out of them though. He looks about as harmless as a puppy dog,” she said.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. Still though. I will kill him if I have to,” she said.

“Me too,” said Eileen, eating more chips. “These are so good. Sam hates chips.”

“Yeah but Sam’s like hot,” said Donna.

“Good point,” laughed Eileen, swallowing hard as she stared past you. “Hi.”

“Hi Eileen,” said Dean, giving her a smile before turning to Donna. “Hi Donna. You guys keeping Y/N occupied for me?”

“Uh huh,” they both nodded.

“Guys. He’s like a regular dude. Stop freaking on me,” you said.

“Regular dude who’s gonna sing in front of like a gajillion people,” said Donna.

“I heard you’re a bit of a singer, Donna,” said Dean. You gave her a grin, Donna glaring at you.

“Yeah...I’m not really great,” she said, poking Eileen. “Eileen. Talk.”

“S’okay. You guys looked like you were having a good time before I interrupted-“

“Your last name is Winchester,” she said. “That’s like...your real name?”

“Uh huh,” he said.

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Sam Winchester on the off chance would you?” She asked with a swallow. Dean’s face lit up, looking Eileen up and down.

“You’re that Eileen! Oh, Sammy is head over heels for you,” said Dean with a laugh. “He’s my little brother. He pretends we’re not related sometimes. I don't really blame him. But he has a super crush on you. He talks about you for hours.”

“Really?” she said.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re awesome,” said Dean.

“Well, he’s alright,” she said with a shrug, biting her bottom lip.

“You know he believed in the Easter bunny until he was twelve,” said Dean.

“I wonder who told him that,” you said, Dean chuckling.

“Well I’ve got to run ladies. Enjoy the show and if you guys want anything, be sure to go ask Kyle,” said Dean. He nodded for you to walk out with him, Dean pausing by the door. “Small world with Eileen, huh?”

“Your little brother is a lawyer?” you asked.

“Mhm,” said Dean. “I try to keep him out of this stuff. But I mean, not to gossip but Sammy really loves your friend, you know.”

“I think she knows,” you said with a smile.

“Do you want to grab a bite or a drink after the show?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. “We were thinking of getting a pizza at my house later.”

“I like you guys. You eat all the time,” he chuckled.

“Boys are invited,” you said. “If you want.”

“Can my brother come?” he asked.

“Yeah. Invite your friend Benny too if he’s free,” you said. “You know, Donna’s single and always down to mingle.”

“Alright,” he said with a smile. “Now I really got something to look forward to.”

“Hey, go have fun out there,” you said.

“Okay but only cause you asked,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said.

“But I’m cute right?” he teased.

“Eh…” you said, Dean pouting. “Yeah, I guess you’re cute. Oh hey, what kind of pizza do you like?”

“Whatever you want is fine, sweetheart,” he said.

“Come on. My treat,” you said.

“I never turn down buffalo chicken,” he said.

“You just got more attractive,” you said, Dean smirking at you. “I will order some then and I will see you after the concert?”

“Mhm. Be sure to catch the last song before you head out though,” he said, smiling before he pecked a kiss to your cheek. “Later, Y/N.”

“Alright, I know this is normally the end of the show but I got something new I want to share with you guys,” he said, spinning on his stool, flashing a wink off stage at you. “It’s called Simple.”

“He wrote you a song called that?” whispered Donna in your ear.

“Why?” asked Eileen in your other one as Dean started to strum his fingers.

“Cause for some reason, with Dean, it’s simple.”

_______

#spndeanbingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #dean x

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burntblueberrywaffles · 3 years

Text

Don’t get me wrong, I love Lorde, and Solar Power is a great album.

But I’m extremely disapointed in her with the whole “not releasing a Cd and making a music box instead”

First of all, I find it very hypocritical of her to not make CDs available because they’re “bad for the environment” but still produce vinyls? how does that make sense? (And even the music box has a bad impact on the environment; sure, it may not be made of plastic, but producing it still waste ressources, and shipping it worldwide causes pollution as well.)

But you know, whatever. I could have dealt with that, I could have just bought the music online and burned my own CD.

Except you cant even buy all the tracks on itune.

If you want the bonus tracks, you’re forced to buy the music box or the vinyl.

And like, that doesnt make any sense? I never wanted to buy the music box because i have no use for a bunch of cardboard and picture... how does forcing people who want the full album to buy a product with a bunch of shit they dont need help the environment? In my opinion, it’s arguably worse for the environment than making CDs available.

If I had been able to buy a CD, I would have added it to my collection. I would have used it regularly, and I certainly would’nt have thrown it away.

But if I were to buy the music box? At best it would gather dust in a corner of my house. At worse I would straight up need to throw it away because it’s taking too much space... so I’m not going to buy it. Because I actually give a shit about the environment and I dont want to contribute to useless waste.

If she truly cared about the ecological impact of her music. Lorde should have made it possible to access it without buying physical products. Or better yet, she should have made a digital release only. (I mean, it would still suck to not have a CD, but at least she wouldnt be hypocrytical about it and I would be able to respect her for putting her money where her mouth is)

#just my thoughts #lorde #solar power #lorde solar power #solar power music box #textpost #cd

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

Do you have any tan lines? Nope. Have you ever wished you could stop time? Yes. I’ve also wished I could speed it up. Is there any pictures on the wall you're in? Yeah, there’s several. Who was the last person who called you? My mom. Did you make any money today? No.

Have you ever fallen and twisted your ankle? No. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I haven’t jumped from anywhere. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? No. Ever been so unfortunate to slip on wet rocks? Nope. When was the last time you got completely soaked by rain? It’s been a long time. One of the times that comes to mind is when my mom, aunt, a former friend, and I were at an outdoor festival and we got caught in an unexpected rain storm. It just started pouring down hard and we were not prepared at all. We had to run back to our car, which was parked a good distance away and yeah we were absolutely soaked.

Is there something you really want to buy at the moment? I’d love to be able to book a beach vacation getaway. Would you ever consider culinary school? No. I’m not a cook and have no interest in trying to become one. Do you ever watch the clouds, to see if they look like objects/animals etc? I did when I was a kid sometimes. When was the last time you didn't want to get out of bed? That’s me everyday. It’s a real struggle. Are you excited for anything coming up in the near future? No. My foreseeable future consists of more doctors and appointments and struggles and spending most of my time in bed. Speaking of dancing, do you know any real dance moves? I know them, but I can’t do them. Do you save cards from your birthday/x-mas, etc? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? A shirt. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? One of my favorite covers is Adele’s cover of George Michael’s “Fast Love” that she preformed at an award show in honor of him after he died. I can only describe it as hauntingly beautiful. I really wish she would have released a studio version of it. When was the last time you printed something off? I don’t recall; it’s been awhile. Are you one of those people who can learn music/songs by ear? No, I wish. There was a guy in my piano class I took my senior year in high school that could do that. It was really cool. Has the power gone out recently? No, but I have a feeling it will happen soon. It always does when we have a lot of triple digit degree weather, which is what this week has consisted of. Do you like driving at night? I don’t drive, but I like nighttime drives. Like, whenever I travel I love leaving really early when it’s still dark out. It’s a different experience. Does seeing roadkill make you sad, or just grossed out? Both. Does wearing heels make you feel sexier? I don’t wear heels. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? The piano can sound that way. What day do you go back to school (if you're in school)? I’m forever done with school. When was the last time you've gone shopping with a friend? It’s been a few years. Do you ever go out to dinner with your Mom? We haven’t physically gone out to eat for dinner in quite a long time. What is your favorite kind of salad dressing? Ranch. Have you ever bought fireworks? Not me personlly, but my dad and brother do every 4th of July. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Sometimes, but I ultimately decide if I want to see it or not. Have you ever snuck in to a theater/dance/bar etc? No. If given the chance, would you go to Ireland? Sure. Who was the last person/website to send you an email? I don’t feel like checking. Has your phone ever rang and scared you? Yeah. I’m such a jumpy person anyway. If you have a cat, does it ever "converse" with you? I don’t have a cat. If given the chance, would you ever fly in a fighter plane like the F-16? No. Are you afraid of standing on the edge of hills/skyscrapers/cliffs etc? Uh, YES. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar etc)? No. Do you support the funds designed to protect endangered animals? (Like WWF). I haven’t done much myself to support them, but I’m glad they exist. What type of a drunk are you? (Obnoxious, calm, emotional, violent, etc) I was a chatty drunk. I feel like I was annoying, ha. I was also the sad drunk. Do you have an absolute favorite name (boy or girl)? I love the name Alexander. Are you good at pronouncing foreign words? Uhh, depends. If you're not already, when do you plan on getting married? I don’t want to get married. Can you tolerate the smell of cigarette smoke? Nooo. It honestly makes me sick, like I get lightheaded and dizzy, I get nauseous, and I get a really bad headache. When listening to music, do you usually tap your foot etc to the beat? I sometimes tap my fingers and hands. Have you ever literally cried on a friend's shoulder? No. Was there something that "made your day" today? It literally just turned midnight, so today is just now starting. Do you have a favorite kind of chocolate bar? White chocolate. Are you happy that it's summer? Ugh, no. It’s hot and miserable. Is there anything that you should be doing right now? I’m about to make my nightly bowl of ramen. Has anyone had expectations that you just couldn't live up to? (finishing this a couple hours later...) That’s how I’ve been feeling. Are you currently in a relationship? If so, how long have you been dating? Nope. Would you ever consider being a DJ at a party if you were paid? Nah. Have you ever tried those electric toothbrushes? Wow, this question makes it seem like they’re so futuristic and rare lol. Yes, I use electric toothbrushes. Are you or anyone you know devoted to "being green"? Not overly so, no. When it comes election time, do you vote (if you're old enough)? Yes. What was the last movie you watched that was on TV? I watched Fear 1994 on Netflix recently if that counts. How long have you had an account on bzoink? I don’t have an account on bzoink. Do strapless bras work for you? I don’t like them. I only wear them if I have to, like with a dress. Do you have a favorite hair elastic that you use almost always? No. Has anyone told you that they wanted to marry you/ were planning on it/etc? No. When you were younger, did you have a yoyo? I did. I couldn’t do any tricks, though. What was the last video game you played, if any? Animal Crossing: New Horizons. Has anyone ever called you nerdy? Yeah. Have you ever had to call 911? Yes. Has there ever been a tornado near where you live? No, fortunately. Are you a rollercoaster addict? Noo. I’m a big scardy cat. Do you feel comfortable enough to wear short shorts? No. I’m very self-conscious about my legs. About my body in general, really. If you have iTunes, do you find the Genius recommendations helpful? I don’t even recall what that is; I haven’t used iTunes in almost 10 years. Are you quick at looking up numbers in phonebooks/ words in dictionaries? Phonebooks, wow. I haven’t used a phonebook or actual dictionary in yearsssss thanks to the Internet/Google. Have a favorite actor/actress from Old Hollywood? (Marilyn Munroe, etc) Lucille Ball. Out of Biology, Chemistry and Physics, which are you the best at? None of those. Is there a friend you can always talk to about anything? I don’t have any friends. Can you stand spicy foods? Not anymore. :( It’s gotta have like barely anything like McDonald’s or Taco Bell mild hot sauce type of stuff. It’s wild because I used to be obSESSED with spicy food. I put hot sauce on everything and had a high spicy tolerance. Then a few years ago I developed a sensitivity and I can’t even have red pepper flakes now. It sucks. What's your opinion on people who stretch their ears? Hey, do what you want. I’ll admit the really stretched out lobes freak me out, though. Do you think tattoos are expressive art or unattractive? To me they can be either one, it just depends. What is your school mascot? -- Do you find black and white photos to be pretty? Yeah. Food you make doesn't taste as good as food made by others, true? Sometimes. Especially foods like sandwiches for some reason. I think they’re way better when my mom or a deli makes them. Is there a certain color that doesn't look good on you? I don’t think I look good in anything, so. Have you ever heard anything interesting about Nova Scotia, Canada? Not that I can recall. Have you ever seen a bear in the wild? No, thankfully. Do you know when you will get to see your significant other next? I’m single. What's the book you're currently reading? ”Such a Good Girl” by Willow Rose. Is your room currently a disaster? No. If going to a concert, do you prefer it to be outside or in a stadium? Definitely in a stadium.

Do you have a case for your camera? I use the camera on my phone, which I do have a case for. Can your cellphone take a beating? I’ve dropped it a few times and so far so good. Is there a month you prefer over others? October and December. Do you ever buy lottery tickets? Just a couple of times. Can you recall the most disturbing movie you've ever seen? A Clockwork Orange is one. Are you more of a tape or a glue person? Tape. Of course, it does depend on what I’m doing. In some cases, glue is the better option. Has anyone you know gotten mono? Not that I know of. What is/or was your graduating year? I graduated UC in 2015. Have you had a weird dream lately? All my dreams are weird. Have you ever gotten an autograph from someone famous? Yes. Do you own a pair of slippers? No. Do you ever watch VHS movies anymore? No. I don’t even recall the last time. Has your computer ever decided to completely erase itself? No, but I’ve lost stuff because of viruses back in the day. :(

Only when the power goes out do we realize how much we rely on it, true? It definitely becomes quite apparent quite quickly. Have you ever picked an apple off the tree and eaten it? No. Can you say yes / no in different languages? ”Si” and “No”, ha. Are you good at styling your own hair? No. Especially not anymore since I just don’t have the motivation or energy to do anything with my hair, which is why it was always up in a bun. I finally just cut it really short and have been wearing a cute wig if I go somewhere cause that’s all I can to do right now. I am sad, though. It was so long. Out of the traditional superheroes, which one is your favorite? The Scarlett Witch and Iron Man. What color is the shirt you're wearing right now? Black. Have you ever been lost? Physically and figuratively, yes.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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bechloeislegit · 4 years

Text

#EatingAlone

Prompt from FanFiction User malexfaith: A birthday fic for malexfaith from her prompt requesting a BeChloe COVID-19 fic. [See the end for the full prompt.]

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

"Finally," Beca muttered, breathing out a sigh of relief after reading the all-employee email from the studio bosses. The person that thought they had COVID-19 had a negative test result come back. After spending two weeks in self-isolation, Beca was ready to get out of her apartment, even if it was only to do some grocery shopping. It was almost dinner time and she only had a can of ravioli on her shelf.

Beca jumped up and ran to the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth. She gathered everything she needed, including her face mask and gloves. She also opted to dress in real clothes before making her way out of her apartment. She followed all the proper 'social-distancing' protocols and made her way to the market just down the street.

She walked in and saw two people, both of whom worked there.

"Good evening," Beca said.

"Good evening," one of the workers replied. "May I help you find something?"

"No thanks," Beca said. "I'm just picking up a few necessities."

Beca walked down the aisles, placing a few things in her cart. She got to the frozen foods and stocked up on microwave meals and ice cream. She turned the corner of the paper goods aisle and stopped.

The entire aisle of shelves was bare. There was not one single pack of toilet paper or paper towels. She furrowed her brow and slowly walked the entire aisle, looking from side to side like a roll of toilet paper was going to jump off the shelf at her.

"Wow," Beca muttered. "This hoarding toilet paper really is a thing now."

Beca grabbed a few more needed items and went to the checkout. Someone had come in while she was shopping, so she stood what she thought was six feet behind them.

The cashier finished with the other person and Beca moved forward. She unloaded her cart and paid for her purchases. She packed her reusable bags and managed to get them all back to her apartment without dropping or losing anything.

Beca put her groceries away, keeping one frozen meal out to put in the microwave. She read the directions and placed the meal in the microwave, punching in five minutes. She turned on the TV and immediately changed the station from a re-airing of the President's Coronavirus press briefing from the day before.

"Moron," Beca mumbled before finding a reputable news station to listen to for the latest information on treatments and vaccines and such.

The microwave beeped and Beca got her meal. Once she was done eating, she grabbed a beer and sat in front of her computer. The TV was on low in the background while she tweeted about her trip to the market, lamenting about the lack of toilet paper. For fun, she added #NoTPtobeFound.

She posted the picture she had taken of her frozen meal once and posted it on Instagram.

BMitchNotBitch: Spoils of being single and self-quarantining with yourself. #EatingAlone

It didn't take long for the notifications to come in. Beca checked and she had several likes and a few comments on her #EatingAlone post.

She liked one post that was accompanied by a picture of a half a personal size pizza. The poster, HomeEducator, had written: This was the only thing left in my refrigerator for me to eat today. #EatingAlone

It made Beca chuckle. She was surprised when she saw a reply come through.

HomeEducator: OMG! BMitchNotBitch liked my post! #Swooning #BigFan #TheCupSongismyFave

Several new notifications popped up and Beca sat smiling and shaking her head at how one post and her liking a post could get such a reaction. Her fans were the best.

Beca re-read the post from HomeEducator and decided to send her a private message.

BMitchNotBitch: Hi. I saw your post about me liking your post and wanted to see if you were okay. Being alone during this sucks.

The response from HomeEducator was almost immediate.

HomeEducator: Is this really you? Beca Mitchell the music producer and singer?

BMitchNotBitch: The one and only, I swear.

It took a little longer for the response to come through this time.

HomeEducator: Sorry, but I had to squeal a little. I'm such a big fan and can't believe you're actually writing to me. #BMitchNotBitchFangirl

BMitchNotBitch: I don't usually 'talk' to my fans through personal messaging but I liked that you posted your dinner and that you were eating alone. Since we're both alone I thought it might be nice to have someone to chat with while sitting around by ourselves.

HomeEducator: I'd love to chat sometime. I am a teacher and we are doing remote learning so I'm busy from about nine until three on Tues, Wed, and Thurs.

BMitchNotBitch: That works out for me. I have a small studio in my apartment and will be working on some new stuff while I'm home.

HomeEducator: Anything you can share?

BMitchNotBitch: Not yet. But, if you play your cards right, I might let you hear a snippet or two.

HomeEducator: That would be so awesome!

Beca's phone pinged with a text notification; she read it and sighed.

BMitchNotBitch: I'm sorry but I'm going to have to cut this short. I got a message about some work I have to take care of. I hope we can chat again.

HomeEducator: I'm free tomorrow. How about I message you around three-thirty to see if you can talk.

BMitchNotBitch: Sounds good to me. Bye for now.

HomeEducator: Bye.

Beca checked the text again and went to work on what her boss had sent her.

~~ #EatingAlone ~~

The next day, Beca was working in her home studio when she saw her phone light up with an IG message notification. She pulled off her headphones and looked at her phone. She smiled when she saw it was from HomeEducator.

HomeEducator: It's three-thirty. Can you talk?

BMitchNotBitch: Can I get back to you in about 30? I'm in the middle of something but almost done with it.

HomeEducator: Sure. I'll talk to you in a little while.

BMitchNotBitch: Awesome!

Beca put her headphones back on and finished the track. She played it back and made a few tweaks and listened to it one more time. She smiled because it sounded better than she had expected.

"I should send HomeEducator a snippet of this," Beca thought.

Beca quickly cut out a portion of the chorus and copied it into a file. She made sure it sounded good and pulled up her message thread with HomeEducator.

"I really need to ask for her name," Beca mumbled as she pulled up her Instagram message thread.

BMitchNotBitch: What's your name? It's only fair that you tell me since you already know mine. Also, here's a little something for your listening pleasure.

Beca attached the music file and hit send. She waited for a response and started to get nervous when it took a few minutes. Beca thought about sending another message when her phone lit up.

HomeEducator: OMG, Beca! That is amazing. Are you releasing this or is someone else? When will it come out?

BMitchNotBitch: LOL. Calm down. It's for my next album which I do not have a release date for. With all that's going on it may come out on iTunes or some other music download system.

HomeEducator: Let me know when and how. I def want to hear the rest of the song. The chorus is aca-amazing.

BMitchNotBitch: Aca what? And I'll ask again, what is your name?

HomeEducator: Oops, I didn't mean to type that. Maybe I'll tell you about it someday, but today is not the day.

HomeEducator: And my name is Chloe Beale.

"Chloe," Beca mumbled liking the way the name sounded rolling off her tongue.

BMitchNotBitch: Nice name. Would it be weird if I sent you my number so we could text and maybe talk? If it is, forget I said anything. It would be nice to hear another voice once in a while.

HomeEducator: 213-555-1960

Beca sat up when she saw the message. "She gave me her number."

Beca bit her lip but put the number in her phone under Chloe's name. She sent a quick text.

Unknown Number: Hi, it's Beca Mitchell. Thanks for giving me your number. Be sure to save mine.

Chloe: Done. Can I call you?

Beca: Anytime.

Beca hit send and jumped when her phone rang almost immediately. She was surprised to see Chloe's name on her caller ID.

"Hello?" Beca said into the phone.

"Hi, it's Chloe," Chloe said. "Calling you now is okay, right? It's not weird is it?"

"Yes, it's okay, and no, I don't think it's weird," Beca said. "You have a nice voice."

"Thank you," Chloe said. "I always thought your voice was nice."

"Oh, um, thank you," Beca said. "So, you have a 213 area code. Does that mean you live in the LA area?"

"Yes, I do," Chloe said.

"Great," Beca said. "Maybe when we can get out and about again we can meet in person?"

"I'd like that," Chloe said. "That is if you're still talking to me then. I have a tendency to ignore boundaries because I want to know everything about people and that turns them off sometimes."

Beca chuckled. "Hmm, maybe I need to rethink that invitation."

She heard Chloe let out a small gasp of faux indignation.

"I'm kidding," Beca said.

"Good. So, tell me a little about yourself," Chloe said. "I mean stuff that people don't know. Like I said, I'm a big fan so I know quite a bit about you from what's posted online and stuff. I know there has to be more to you than that."

Beca chuckled again. "You're right. I am much more than what you read online or hear about in the tabloids. Let me get out of my studio and get comfortable."

"Ooo," Chloe said, laughing. "It's going to be that kind of phone call. Kinky."

"Oh, my God," Beca said, face flushing. "I didn't know I was dealing with a perv."

Chloe laughed.

"Okay, I'm in my living room," Beca said as she laid on her sofa, her head resting on the arm.

"What are you wearing?" Chloe asked in a sultry voice.

"I'm hanging up now," Beca replied, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Chloe said, full-on belly laughing. "I didn't realize you'd be so easy to fluster. I have a feeling we are going to be fast and best friends."

"I kind of get that feeling, too," Beca said honestly.

"Yeah?" Chloe said. "So, start talking, Mitchell."

"Yes, ma'am," Beca said. "So, I'm twenty-five and have lived in LA for six years now. Wow, I just realized it's been that long. Anyway, I moved here when I got discovered by DJ Khaled and offered a contract when I was nineteen."

"I kind of know all that," Chloe interrupted. "Tell me something that I can't read online."

"Oh, I see how it is," Beca said. "We're getting into the TMI part of our friendship. Moving kind of fast aren't we, Beale?"

"No boundaries, remember?" Chloe asked.

"Right, you did give me fair warning," Beca said. "Okay. Here's something that hasn't gotten out about me. I, um, auditioned for American Idol when I was eighteen and didn't make it past the first round."

"Shut up!" Chloe exclaimed. "Seriously? You are so talented, how could they not send you forward?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised that no one has released the video of my audition. I was pretty bad. I was so nervous and sounded awful."

"I would love to see that. I'm sure it isn't as bad as you make it out to be. I mean, you did get a recording contract a year later."

"That's true, but it wasn't because of my Idol audition. Khaled heard me singing karaoke and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Well, I for one am glad that Khaled has a better ear than those stupid Idol judges."

Beca chuckled. "Thank you. Now tell me something about yourself."

"Um, well, I'm twenty-seven and was born in Tampa. I graduated from Barden University in Georgia with an advanced teaching degree. I moved to New York where I taught for two years before I found the job I'm in now."

"You lived in New York?" Beca asked. "How was that?"

Chloe and Beca spoke for close to two hours before Beca's stomach reminded her she hadn't had dinner.

"Ugh," Beca said. "I hate to cut this short but my stomach is reminding me that I need to eat."

"Me, too," Chloe said. "I really enjoyed talking with you. I hope we can do this again soon. And by soon, I mean like tomorrow."

"I'd love to talk to you again, too," Beca said. "And you can call or text me whenever you want. If I don't answer right away, don't worry. I'm probably working in my studio. But I promise to answer as soon as I can. Okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said. Beca could almost hear her smile through the phone. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"It's a date," Beca said. "I mean, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Not like a date or anything. Just talking. On the phone. Tomorrow."

"You are so cute when you ramble," Chloe said.

"Shut up," Beca said, glad Chloe couldn't see her pink cheeks.

"Bye, Beca," Chloe said with a laugh.

"Goodbye, Chloe," Beca said, ending the call.

~~ #EatingAlone ~~

Beca looked forward to seeing Chloe's name pop up on her caller ID. They would take turns calling; if Beca called Chloe in the morning, Chloe would call Beca in the afternoon. They texted quite a bit as well.

It surprises Beca that they still find something to talk about even after two months. Funny thing is, they are both still stuck at home and don't get out much, and yet still have something new to talk about. Beca doesn't even talk to her family as much as she does with Chloe.

Beca knew Chloe would be calling soon. They had scheduled a watch party for the season finale of Grey's Anatomy and she had to get everything ready.

Beca grabbed two beers and placed them on the table in front of the sofa. She turned her TV on, barely paying any attention to Station 19 as it played in the background.

Beca checked her watch. Just then there was a knock on the door and Beca ran to answer.

"Pizza's here," a voice called out before she made it to the door.

Beca opened the door to find her pizza sitting on the floor, waiting for her. She poked her head out the door and yelled a "thank you" to the delivery guy as he waited for the elevator.

Beca brought the pizza in just as her phone rang.

"Hey," Beca said, sitting the pizza on the table and opening the box.

"Grey's will be on in like five minutes," Chloe said. "Are you set up and ready?"

"Yes, ma'am," Beca responded. "Two beers and a pizza all ready to be consumed. How about you?"

"I got pizza, too," Chloe said. "Gotta help keep the local businesses going."

"Same," Beca said. "There's a pizza place not too far from my building that has the best pizza ever."

"I don't know, Beca," Chloe said. "I think my pizza place can claim ownership as the best pizza ever."

"I beg to differ," Beca said. "It's-"

"Shhhhh!" Chloe said, cutting Beca off. "It's starting."

"Oh," Beca said. She put her phone on speaker and sat down to watch.

Beca and Chloe made comments on the characters and what was happening on the screen. A scene where surgery was being performed came on and Beca dropped her pizza slice back into the box.

"Ew, I just lost my appetite," Beca said.

"Come on, Beca," Chloe said. "It's not that bad. It's all fake."

"Doesn't look very fake," Beca said, making the mistake of looking at the screen again. "Yuck!"

"I didn't know you were so squeamish," Chloe said. "Ugh! Okay, I see what you mean. That's pretty gross. Especially when you're eating pizza."

"Yep," Beca said. "Let me know when they stop showing it."

"They're done," Chloe said, laughing. "Do you want to keep this going and watch How to Get Away With Murder with me after?"

"I would," Beca said. "But I have a Zoom interview with Kelly Clarkson at eight in the morning. I actually need to make myself presentable so I'll be getting up early to do my hair and makeup and find something decent to wear. I really should wash clothes soon."

"Can I watch the interview live online?" Chloe asked.

"I don't know," Beca said. "I know it will be on YouTube at some point. I'll try and find out and let you know."

"You don't have to do that," Chloe said. "Just call or text me when the interview is over."

"Will do," Beca said. "Goodnight, Chloe. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Becs," Chloe said and ended the call.

"Becs," Beca mumbled with a silly grin on her face. She let out a sigh and said, "I think I might be falling in love with Chloe and I've never even seen her."

~~ #EatingAlone ~~

Beca had finished her Zoom interview with Kelly Clarkson and decided to do her laundry. She wasn't that pressed to do it but she was running out of clean pajamas.

Beca gathered up a full basket of dirty clothes and put on her mask before heading down to the building's laundry room. Someone else had the same idea as Beca noticed two dryers going.

Beca made her way to the washers and starting separating her clothes and placing them in the washer. She was dropping her coins in the slot when she heard a sound and looked up. She smiled at the person who came in and furrowed her brow. The woman had stopped dead in her tracks and was staring at her.

"Beca?" the woman said. "What are you doing here?"

Beca looked at the woman. "Um, washing clothes?"

Beca could tell the woman was smiling behind her mask. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Oh, right, you don't know what I look like," the woman said. "I'm Chloe."

Beca's eyes widened. "Chloe? My Chloe?"

"I can be if you play your cards right," Chloe said with a smirk.

Chloe walked over to Beca and stopped. She put her arms out as if to hug Beca and Beca hesitated.

"I know we're not supposed to touch, but I could really use a hug," Chloe said.

Beca chewed her bottom lip and then said, "What the hell?" as she pulled Chloe into a hug.

"It is so good to actually meet you in person," Beca said, pulling back from the hug and moving away from Chloe. "Wait! Oh, my God!"

"What?" Chloe asked, confused by Beca's actions.

"Did you stalk me online and find out where I live?" Beca asked.

"No, I swear I didn't," Chloe said and chuckled. "I actually live in this building. Apartment 3C."

"What?" Beca asked. "You mean all this time we've lived this close and didn't know it?"

"Looks like it," Chloe said, pulling the mask from her face as she stepped closer to Beca.

"Wow," Beca said, staring at Chloe's face. "You're really pretty."

Beca realized she blurted that out loud and her cheeks reddened.

"I've always thought you were really pretty, too," Chloe said.

Beca and Chloe stood staring at each other. Beca pulled her mask down and let it hang around her neck.

"Um, this is awkward, but I really want to kiss you," Beca said softly.

"I really want to kiss you, too," Chloe said.

"But, we probably shouldn't," Beca said, leaning in slightly.

"You're right. We shouldn't," Chloe said just as their lips met.

Beca reached out and pulled Chloe closer by her hips. Chloe moaned into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Beca's shoulders.

"Wow," Beca whispered as the kiss came to an end.

"Same," Chloe said with a chuckle. "So, um, I know we're not supposed to go visit friends and such, but would you like to come to my apartment for dinner? I haven't been outside in almost three weeks, so I think we'll be okay."

"I haven't been outside about that long, too," Beca said. "Do you really think it will be safe?"

"I don't know what to think, to be honest," Chloe said. "But, I don't know if I can handle just talking on the phone when I know you're so close."

"In that case," Beca said. "I'd love to have dinner with you in your apartment."

"Really?" Chloe squealed, pulling Beca into a tight hug. "Is six good for you?"

"That's our usual dinner time," Beca said. "I'll bring some wine. I have a couple of bottles I've been saving for a special occasion. And I think dinner with you counts as a special occasion."

"Perfect," Chloe said and gave Beca a quick peck on the lips. "I'd better get my laundry upstairs. I need to see what I have to make for dinner."

"I have some stuff in my freezer if you need it," Beca said.

"Thanks," Chloe said. "I'll let you know."

Chloe walked over to the dryers and started folding her clothes and putting them in her basket. Beca was still standing at the washers, staring at Chloe.

"Um, Becs?"

Beca smiled at the nickname. "Yeah?"

"The washer only works if you put the money in," Chloe said, grinning.

"Right," Beca said and got her washers going. "I'll, uh, see you later."

"See you later," Chloe said and watched as Beca finally made her way out of the laundry room.

Chloe smiled and mumbled, "I am totes going to marry that girl."

~~ #EatingAlone ~~

Six months later, Beca and Chloe were having dinner together in Beca's apartment. The U.S. and most of the world was getting back into its new 'normal', whatever that is, and Beca and Chloe had been able to spend more time in close proximity. In the two months since the stay-at-home orders had been lifted, they had spent every spare moment together.

"Ooo, let's get a picture," Chloe said as she pulled out her phone.

"Why?" Beca whined.

"So, I can show you off," Chloe said. "And announce to the world that Beca Mitchell is off the market."

"You're a dork, you know that?" Beca said, smiling lovingly at Chloe.

"I do know that," Chloe said. "That's why you love me."

"I do love you," Beca said, moving closer to Chloe.

"And I love you," Chloe said, closing the distance and kissing Beca. She pulled back and said, "Now, let's let everyone else know that we love each other."

"Okay," Beca said.

Beca moved so she could wrap her arms around Chloe's waist. She put her chin on Chloe's shoulder.

"How's this?" Beca asked.

"Perfect," Chloe said and she took the picture.

They remained in the same position with Beca watching over Chloe's shoulder as she posted the photo on all the media sites.

Beca smiled when she saw that Chloe had added a new hashtag. #NoLongerEatingAlone.

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

Full prompt from FanFiction User malexfaith: I was just thinking with the self-isolation that people who want to meet someone, would have to do so at the moment through the internet; meaning they would be talking for a lot longer before actually meeting, and their relationship may last longer with them already knowing so much before actually meeting.

#bechloe fanfiction #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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benaffleckofcrowdsurfing · 4 years

Text

Lazerquest - part 4

Alex Turner x Reader

Chapter 4/?

Description: you are an impulsive bartender who recently moved to London after traveling across the United States and living on the road for a few years. You befriend Alex, a musician who recently got out of a long term relationship, and you show him the ways of your free-spirited lifestyle in an attempt to help him move on from his ex. However, you become more of a muse than a friend for Alex and all is revealed when he releases his band’s fourth studio album, “Suck it and See”.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Tag list (msg me if you would like to be added):

@lolurnotmileskane @imagine-that-100

Updates whenever the heck I please (at least once a week)

Author’s note: hi friends. This is a sucky chapter because im brain dead from work, but i promise things will pick up soon. Ive got big plans for this bad boy, i just need to figure out how to get there.

**************

“Here she is,” Alex burst, and stopped in front of a beautiful vintage Porsche. Your jaw dropped as he leaned up against the car. It was a beautiful deep green color with tan leather interior, and although it was obviously an old car, it was in pristine condition.

“Oh my god, Alex, this is yours? Is this a 1969 convertible 911?” You inquired, but you knew the answer. You were a bit of a car geek, and Porsches were some of your favorites. You ran your fingers lightly across the hood in awe, you couldn’t believe you were actually touching such a classic car. Alex had a proud grin on his face.

“Yes ma’am. One of my larger purchases after Favourite Worst Nightmare went platinum. She’s my baby,” Alex beamed, and opened the passenger door for you. “Your chariot awaits, Milady.”

“Why, thank you Sir,” you imitated Alex’s accent, before stepping into the car. He shut the door behind you and went over to the drivers side.

“I got a brand new sound system put in, it has an auxiliary cord and everything. You can go ahead and hook your phone up to it if you’d like, it’s your adventure so you can pick the music,” Alex said, and handed you a cord. He then turned on the car and shot you a huge grin. You pulled out your brand new IPhone 4 - a going away gift from your best friend back home - and scrolled through Itunes. You settled on another album that reminded you of home: Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Californiacation. As the opening track, Around the World, began playing through the car’s speakers, Alex drove off and out of his apartment complex’s garage.

“So, where to?” Alex had to yell over the music.

“You know the vintage shop by the place I work?”

“Yeah, the one with all the leather and costumes and shit right?”

“That’s the one!” You chortled. Alex and you exchanged knowing glances before he stepped on the gas and you turned up the music.

The two of you were speeding through the city, and you thought you looked quite good. Your hair was flowing in the spring breeze, and your leopard fur coat matched the interior of the car perfectly. Alex looked cool as all hell in his oversized aviator sunglasses, and his toned arms resting on the steering wheel of the car made your insides weak. When you’d stop at a traffic light, the people in cars around you would stare and smile at you, and to be honest you liked the attention. You liked being the mysterious girl in a Porsche with Alex Turner. As the 911 pulled up to the vintage shop, you clapped your hands in excitement.

“I hope you brought your wallet, Turner. We’ve got shopping to do,” you winked at Alex as he opened your door and put a hand out for you to hold onto as you exited the car. What a gentleman.

When you entered the shop, you grabbed Alex’s hand and dragged him towards the huge section of racks containing leather jackets.

“Alright, Al. Remember when I said I knew how to make your outfit perfect? Well here we are. You need a good vintage jacket to match that vintage shirt and vintage car of yours,” you smirked. Alex gave you a massive grin before practically diving into the massive collection of jackets.

“You go look around, Y/N, and I’ll show you the one I choose once I’ve found it. Like some sort of big reveal,” Alex instructed. You ruffled his hair and squeezed his arm before skipping away.

You found yourself in the dress section, like usual, and began digging. Most of them were rather cheesy numbers from the 80’s, but just as you were about to give up and move on, you found a stunning 60’s Mod style dress. It looked like a checkerboard, it was 4 huge grids alternating between black and white. It was a rather stretchy material and was a bit short, which you thought was unusual for the time period, but you knew that it’d just make the dress far more flattering. A huge grin appeared on your face, and you darted to the dressing rooms to try it on.

Just as you had slipped the dress on, you heard Alex calling your name. You were so eager to see the jacket he had picked out that you didn’t bother to look to see how the dress looked, you opened the curtain to go find Alex. You were surprised to see him waiting for you right outside of your dressing room. Both of your jaws dropped at the sight of each other. Alex looked amazing in his jacket, he had picked a rather worn one in a biker style that looked to be around the 1950’s era.

“You look like a greaser, Al. Like a modern Danny Zuko or something. It’s fantastic,” you gushed. Alex hadn’t said anything yet, he just looked at you with wide eyes and a little smirk.

“And you look like a modern Twiggy. Absolutely brilliant,” he breathed, before taking a step towards you. He traced the outline of the dress with his large hands, before reaching for the price tag. He was so close you could smell him, this time the sandalwood and cigarette was accompanied by the smell of worn leather. “I’m buying this for you.”

“Oh no you aren’t, you can buy your own jacket and I’ll buy my own dress. Oh and those SHOES!” you gasped and practically ran to the wall of shoes. You pulled down a pair of chunky soled white go-go boots and squealed when you discovered they were in your size. You put them on right there in the middle of the shop and gave Alex a huge smile. “Thoughts?”

“I don’t think you want to know what I’m thinkin, Love.” Alex’s eyes were glued to you, the corners of his lips curled up into a devious smile.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a little nudge. “Stop playing, Alex. I’ve got to go take this beauty off, then I want to go look at costume jewelry. Then our day can really start.”

“Brilliant.”

“Be back in a jiffy.”

When you had come out of the dressing room, you found Alex at the front of the shop looking at jewelry. The man behind the counter was showing him a gorgeous yellow diamond choker with a black diamond in the center.

“It’s a 30’s era piece, one of my personal favorites. I think it’d look absolutely lovely on your bird, there,” the man said and nodded towards you and then back at Alex.

“I think so too, Sir. I’ll take it,” Alex beamed. You blushed when he looked down at you and bit his bottom lip. “And don’t let her pay for those shoes and that dress either, I’ll take care of it.”

You frowned. “Alex, seriously. I can buy my own things.”

“I don’t care, I want to buy them for you.”

“You don’t need to do that for me.”

“Y/N.”

“Alex.”

“Y/N/N.”

“Al. I’m being so serious.”

“Do I need to show you my bank statements? Trust me, it’s nothing. Think of it as a little thank you for staying up with me last night.”

“Alexander….”

“Y/N…..”

“Cut it out and move so I can pay for my shit.”

“Nope. I’m buying them for you.”

“You’re impossible, Al.”

“You love me, Y/N/N.”

**********

Once Alex and you had returned to the car, he took the necklace out of the bag and instructed you to turn around. He wrapped it around your neck and gently moved your hair out of his way so he could fasten it. Once it was on, he turned you back around, and fixed your hair. He was still wearing his new jacket, and you took the moment to admire how good he looked. Neither of you spoke, he just stood there with his hand on your shoulders, smiling down at you. You could feel your cheeks turning pink as the two of you locked gazes. After what felt like an eternity of blissful silence, he chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re an interesting one, you.” He muttered as he opened the door of his car for you. “So, where to next?”

“Not sure. Just travel East till you reach the water. I want to go for a swim,” You hummed.

Alex looked at you, rather amused, before starting the car. “I know just the place.”

************

By afternoon time, both you and Alex had shed your coats and were driving down a windy, narrow, road, soaking in the sunshine. You had taken off your shoes and your seat belt so you could lounge your legs up on the dash and look up at the sky above you. Alex had put on Room on Fire by The Strokes, and the two of you sang along as you sped towards the beach. He had one arm draped over the steering wheel, the other alternating between playing chords on the air guitar and messing with your hair.

When the two of you made it to the beach, it was nearly sundown. Alex had taken you to a small village perched on a cliff above a large and sandy seashore, and the two of you parked on a small bluff before hiking down towards the water.

“You know, you said you wanted to swim, but neither of us have swimwear,” Alex called after as you ran down the bluff and onto the beach. You didn’t answer him, though, you just turned to face him and took off your top. Alex was extremely taken-back by what you had just done at first, but when you continued to slip off your shorts and skip down the beach, he caught on and took off his own shirt and jeans. You were quite a bit closer to the water than him when he had done so, but just before you were about to stick your toes in the cold water, a pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground.

You let out a little shriek as Alex threw you over his shoulders. He adjusted his arm around your thigh, and began walking deeper into the water.

While helpless in the arms of the musician, you couldn’t help but notice his boxers. “Nice dino undies, Al. Very badass of you.” You gave him a playful slap on the bum and he slightly tightened his grip on your legs.

“Well I’m sorry that I didn’t expect to be getting naked in public today, Y/N. Not all of us can wear an Agent Provacateur set on some random Tuesday.”

You knew Alex was referring to the undergarments you had chosen this morning, and you laughed. Sure, it was a black and lacy number and looked a bit fancy, but it definitely wasn’t Agent Provacateur. “For your information, Al, I got this at Target. And watch your mouth, Buddy, I’m not some slut that just expects to end the night in her bra and undies. I just like to feel put-together.”

“Oh, trust me Y/N, I’m not complaining,” Alex smirked. He was now waist deep in the waves, and still had you on his shoulders. He shifted you down so he was carrying you bridal style, and grinned at you before biting his lip. “Now are you ready to get wet?”

You smirked to yourself a bit. If you had held my thighs like that any longer, Turner, you wouldn’t have had to put me in the water for that to happen.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Alex,” you laughed. When he told you to hold your breath you did, and at that he tossed you into the water. The cold of the ocean bit you the moment you hit the wave’s surface, and you gasped in shock.

“Jesus it’s cold,” you shrilled. Alex laughed hysterically as you tried to climb on him and out of the water, still shaking due to its temperature. He pushed you off of him, and when an exceptionally large wave came your way he completely submersed himself under it.

“Bloody hell, you’re right. Fucking freezing.” He yelled as his head popped out from the white caps surrounding the two of you. “Why’d you want to do this, Y/N?”

“Well, you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!”

“Well then there you go, my plan worked out perfectly,” you beamed. The late afternoon sun gave Alex a golden tint, and with the combination of his wet curls and the waves surrounding him, you thought he looked something like a Greek god. The thought made you let out a breathy laugh, which caused Alex to scrunch his nose at you.

“Making fun of my Dinosaur boxers again, Y/N?”

You faked a gasp and put a hand over your chest dramatically. “I would never!”

“Then why are you staring, Love?”

Shit.

“Just trying to figure out how I can get you back under the water,” you sniggered. Alex began swimming away from you, so you chased after him and when you were close enough you put your arms around his neck. “Gotcha!”

“Oh, do you know?” Alex chuckled, and hooked his hands under your armpits. He lifted you all the way up and out of the water, causing you to giggle like a schoolgirl. When he put you back into the water, you wrapped your legs around his torso and placed your hands on either side of his face. Alex pressed his forehead to yours, and you looked into each other’s eyes.

The two of you were so close you felt like you could feel the atoms between you, and a massive smile painted itself across your face.

“You’ve got gorgeous eyes, Y/N,” Alex whispered, just barely loud enough for you to hear over the roaring of the ocean. His comment caused your cheeks to turn as pink as the sunset behind you.

“As do you, Alex.” The two of you were still wrapped in each other’s arms, forehead to forehead and nose to nose. “Now, take me back to shore before it gets too dark. We’ve still got items left on our agenda.”

Alex furrowed his brows before turning around and allowing you to climb on his back. “What more could you possibly have in store for us, Y/N.”

“You’ll see.”

“You know, being with you is like constantly getting left on a cliffhanger.”

“I like that, Al.”

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