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northcarolinanative · 4 years

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Requested by anon: Hi! I have a request where John b has a younger sister and her nick name is Poguie/ Little Poguie but only John b and the pogues are allowed to call her that. So one night at a boneyard party, Rafe and topper won’t leave her alone, just being annoying and low key harassing her, and one of them call her the nickname and she punches them, like no, no, can’t call me that. And Rafe is not happy about the punch, so he goes for the grab And leads to Pope, JJ and John B getting involved. Thank ya!

A/N: I have no idea how long ago you requested this but I know it was a while ago! I’m sorry!! I hope you still enjoy it! I wanted to put a little *twist* on it because that’s what I do:) As always let me know what you think:) My requests/asks/messages are open!

Warnings: Violence/Fighting

Being John B’s half-sister was fun for the most part. I had a built-in set of friends, the pogues. Each of them being protective over me despite the minuscule age difference, less than a year, between the two of us. Kiara was the older sister that I would never have and also my ‘mom’ friend. While it was embarrassing at first to ask her questions, the older we got the more normal it became, she helped me navigate girly things that I missed out on living in a house full of boys. JJ and Pope were like two peas in a pod, one always picking or bickering with the other, but just like John B, teased me to no end, but the moment a Kook, or hell even a pogue, tried to talk to me they made sure they knew I was off-limits.

My fingers moved swiftly across the smooth surface of my phone screen. I felt my face flushed at the words that were being written to me, but even more so from me. I had met a boy, on my way home from work on the pier. He was cute, and so far sweet and flattering. I had not met him before because he went to the Kook Academy. My phone buzzed again, signaling that I had gotten another message from him.

Kelce: I heard there was a Party at the boneyard tonight. Do you think I could meet up with you there?

Me: Ehhh, we’ll see;)

I replied back quickly, a soft smile and blush rising to my face.

“Hey poguie, what are you doing?” JJ said barreling in the door, startling me. He used his knuckles to rub across my head, sending my hair flying in every which direction. I quickly locked my phone, tucking it under my leg so that they wouldn’t see I was on it. The last thing that I needed was John B or the others finding out. They would lose their minds if they found out I was talking to a boy, much less a kook. I never quite understood what they others had against the Kooks in general, sure they had their bad seeds, but so did the cut, right?

“What are you all smiley about?” JJ asked as he made his way through the door carrying two cases of PBR in his hands.

“Just so happy that all of you are back!” I retorted sarcastically, watching the others file in the door behind him. “What took you so long?” I joked with them.

“What are you talking about Poguie, we’re right on time!” John B said, shitting the door behind him. I rolled my eyes looking at the clock, signaling that they were in fact an hour later than they said they’d be. “So what time is the party tonight?”

“Eh, We’re leaving in a few minutes I think,” Kie said, fixing her watch to look at the time. “Are you coming tonight?” She said smiling.

I blushed at her enthusiasm and nodded my head. Pope raised his eyebrows, immediately looking to see John B’s reaction. John B was pulling beers from the fridge and into the cooler that JJ was holding. He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “You want to come?” He questioned, leaning onto the door. I just nodded my head, giving him another expression of confusion back. “Oh, just that you, you know?” He said, moving to keep stocking the cooler. “You never wanted to go before.” He shrugged

“Awe. Our little poguie is growing up!” Pope exclaimed in a mocking tone, causing me to once again roll my eyes.

“Well if you’re coming, maybe you should, I don’t know? Help us out?” JJ deadpanned as he struggled to hold up the heavy cooler. I laughed before moving from my spot on the couch, careful to slip my phone in my back pocket. I grabbed the other handle of the cooler watching JJ dramatically wipe sweat from his forehead.

The party took less than an hour to reach full swing. There was a mix of people around, from Pogues to Kooks, and the few Tourons that were holding to the last bit of summer vacation. The air was still warm and tinted a warm golden yellow as the sun had barely fallen behind the horizon. I was sitting on the white folding table that the boys had set up to hand out beers from. John B was pulling the cans from the cooler and passing them to JJ and Pope, who stood at the front, handing the beverages to the lines of people. The night was still young so everyone was itching to get their drinks. Kie was setting up trash cans in hopes that people would actually use them.

I was waving at the familiar faces that came through the line and hugging a few girls that I knew from school. I was laughing with boys as they commented on the naivety of the tourons. They were all ‘so totally drunk’ off one beer. One took a sip and sighed “This is good shit,” as if it wasn’t PBR the boys stole from the gas station, causing us all to laugh. Every boy that would move to my side and talk to me quickly wandered away, I could only assume it was due to the death stares that JJ and Pope were giving them.

Kelce caught my eye from across the way, he was on the edge of the party, drink in hand. We smiled at one another, as he waved at me. I blushed before trying to figure out a way to get out of the situation with the boys. I looked back at Kelce to see him nodded toward the fire, motioning me to join him. I nodded before turning to the boys.

“Hey!” I said, all of them sparing a glance at me before getting back to their job, the line slowly dying down. “I’m gonna go find Kie, haven’t seen her in a bit?” I questioned. They all just nodded their heads. I smiled, suddenly feeling the nervousness in my stomach build and a small shake come to my hands. I slid myself off the small table and into the soft sand below me, I made my way through the crowd of bodies, pushing my way through. That was why I stayed away from the larger pogues parties, all the people. I finally made it through to the more open area that was around the orange fire. I locked eyes with Kelce a few feet away, he was illuminated with the same firelight that was heavy in the air. I could not hide the smile that made its way to my face. Our steps finally met in the middle and He wrapped his arms around my middle, picking me up and spinning me. I giggled at the action but hugged him back before he set me down.

“You look really pretty tonight Y/N” He smiled at me. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took in his appearance as well. He was dressed in normal casual wear for him. He had on a teal polo that complemented his tones body nicely, dark khaki shorts, and a pair of Sperry’s. I took in his figure and looked back at his cheeky smile, realizing he totally caught me checking him out too.

“You look pretty good too,” I said, suddenly feeling myself get shy. Kelce laughed at my new awkward tone, easing the mood a little bit. He took my hand softly, and lead me to a log on the far side of the fire. I looked over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of the pogues, still distracted, before following Kelce. I felt the butterflies in my stomach start again with the way that he held my hand closer to him and kept it as we sat down. The warmth from the fire hiding the blush on my cheeks. Kelce’s smile made me want to melt, and not to mention he looked so good, the way that the flickering light was dancing across his chiseled features. We fell into a light, casual conversation naturally. Texting had helped us to get to know one another on the surface level, but it was nice to look at him while talking. The night grew darker and the fire was slowly dying since no one added anything but a few beer cases to it and we continued to talk.

“Oh Kelce man, don’t tell me this is the girl you were telling us about?” I heard a voice come from behind me. I looked up at Kelce, my eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but the redness that covered my face was proof of my embarrassment.

“Dude! Why would you say it like that?” Kelce said, moving closer and pulling me into his side, wrapping his arm protectively around my shoulders. I was able to turn and see who was speaking. I looked up to be met with none other than the Kook royalty, Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton. “But yes. This is Y/N” He said while a smile before looking at me.

“You were talking about me?” I giggled, the blush on my face staying there like a stain. Kelce just nodded, he opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by Rafe.

“You mean Poguie Trash?” Rafe said, mocking a baby voice when he called me by the nickname. I felt my hands clench into fists. “Not even good enough to be a Pogue, Y/N.” Rafe’s voice degrading. It was only making my anger continue to rise. “Not even you’re brother lets you in his group. What makes you think you’re good enough for a kook like Kelce? Poguie” Rafe taunted.

I’d had enough. As soon as I the nickname fell from Rafe’s lips, I was up on my feet, closing the short distance that was between us. Rafe’s tall figure stood over me, but heald no fear against me. I didn’t realize what I was doing before I had slung my right fist into the left side of his face. Obviously taken aback by the blow, Rafe stutter-stepped backward.

My grew wide, not expecting myself to really do it. Rafe brought his hand up to his face, pulling away and looking at the blood on his hand. A small crowd had gathered around us. “You fucking Pogue,” he spat at me, lunging forward. Kelce was quick to pull me into his chest and out of Rafe’s line of fire. That’s when I was able to see the three taller figures that had approached from behind me.

John B was leading the pack, making his fist colliding with Rafe’s face. JJ and Pope stood back, holding Topper out of the fight. “You don’t get to call her that” John B managed to get out between punches.”You don’t get to say those things to her!” He said, his fist meeting the boys face over and over again. I locked eyes with JJ, seeing the same worried expression on his face. I moved towards John B, JJ moving from the other side, as we tried to get him away from the boy underneath him.

“John B come on!” JJ yelled as he pushed him toward me.

“He’s had enough dude!” I called, pulling him up by the shoulders, and passed him to Pope who quickly pulled him away from the beach. I looked around for Kelce, to say something. I caught his eye and walked the short distance between us.

I stood in front of Kelce who had his hands dug in the pockets of his khakis, the air heavy between the two of us. I knew that we didn’t have much time before the pogues pulled me away. “Are you okay?” Kelce asked I watched as his eyes searched over my face and body. “Did Rafe hurt you?” He breathed out, closing his eyes and shaking his head with his last statement.

“Not physically no,” I said, bluntly. “I guess the others were right tho.” Kelce knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. “You know? A kook and Pogue, we can’t be friends Kelce” I said with an awkward laugh. “It’ll be too complicated.”

Kelce stared at me with wide eyes. I heard the others calling my name and JJ ran up to my side. “We said come on Poguie!” I could feel the frustration radiating off of him as he slung an arm around me, pulling me away from Kelce.

“Y/N! Wait-” Kelce started, but it was already too late. JJ and I had already started our trek back to the chateau.

A long and uncomfortable silence filled the walk home. The waves from the beach were slowly replaced by the crunch of gravel until we got to the front of the chateau.

“What the hell were you doing with the Kooks to begin with Y/N?” John B said. I was stunned. He never used my real name unless he was really mad. I blinked a few times trying to register his tone.

“I’m sorry?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You‘re the one who almost beat Rafe within an inch of his life! I had it covered!” I said, my voice rising with every word.

“Me?” John B said, his voice breathy. “Me?” He repeated, raising his voice. “What was all that about with Kelce huh?” He questioned. Pope and Kie took it as their cue to give us some privacy. John B pointed at JJ. “Why did he have to get you? Huh?” He asked his voice condescending.

I felt tears prick in my eyes. “It was nothing okay!” I said, looking between the two boys. “You were right, they’re kooks, and it would never work!” I moved through the two of them making my way into my bedroom before slamming the door behind me. I let my back slide down the door.

I felt like I had been crying for hours when a knock came to my door. I slowly moved to get out of the way. I took a deep breath before turning the doorknob. I opened it just a little to see JJ standing outside of it with a large grin on his face.

“Can I come in?” He asked, his voice much softer than previously that night. I just nodded and opened the door wider. As he walked in I took it as an opportunity to look out over the empty living room. JJ sat on the edge of my bed, patting the spot beside him.

I listened, moving to sit beside him, pulling my knees to my chest and looking at him. “I brought you some water.” He extended his arm with a cold bottle of water. “Kie said that you need to rehydrate or something.” He said with a short laugh. I took it taking a few sips, the silence over us become more awkward.

“I’m sorry about John B. I know we’re protective over you, but we just want what’s best for you. And if you think that’s Kelce, then.” JJ paused taking a deep breath. “Then we’ll lay off.” He said with a soft smile.

I smiled back at him. “Thanks, but I kinda blew it already.” I laughed awkwardly at my own mistakes. JJ looked at me, confusion clear on his face. “I told him it wouldn’t work, that it would be ‘too complicated’” I emphasized with air quotes.

“Well, he’s stupid if that keeps him away,” JJ said. He pulled me into a side hug before moving to the door.

“Hey JJ” I spoke up, causing him to turn in the doorway to face me. “Really, thanks. It means a lot to know you have my back.”I smiled at him.

“Anything for you, Pougie.”

Masterlist

Taglist: Just @kikifromtheblock rn (bc she asked to be tagged for everything:))

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tswiftdaily · 5 years

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In the 2010s, she went from country superstar to pop titan and broke records with chart-topping albums and blockbuster tours. Now Swift is using her industry clout to fight for artists’ rights and foster the musical community she wished she had coming up.

One evening in late-October, before she performed at a benefit concert at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, Taylor Swift’s dressing room became -- as it often does -- an impromptu summit of music’s biggest names. Swift was there to take part in the American Cancer Society’s annual We Can Survive concert alongside Billie Eilish, Lizzo, Camila Cabello and others, and a few of the artists on the lineup came by to visit.

Eilish, along with her mother and her brother/collaborator, Finneas O’Connell, popped in to say hello -- the first time she and Swift had met. Later, Swift joined the exclusive club of people who have seen Marshmello without his signature helmet when the EDM star and his manager stopped by.

“Two dudes walked in -- I didn’t know which one was him,” recalls Swift a few weeks later, sitting on a lounge chair in the backyard of a private Beverly Hills residence following a photo shoot. Her momentary confusion turned into a pang of envy. “It’s really smart! Because he’s got a life, and he can get a house that doesn’t have to have a paparazzi-proof entrance.” She stops to adjust her gray sweatshirt dress and lets out a clipped laugh.

Swift, who will celebrate her 30th birthday on Dec. 13, has been impossibly famous for nearly half of her lifetime. She was 16 when she released her self-titled debut album in 2006, and 20 when her second album, Fearless, won the Grammy Award for album of the year in 2010, making her the youngest artist to ever receive the honor. As the decade comes to a close, Swift is one of the most accomplished musical acts of all time: 37.3 million albums sold, according to Nielsen Music; 95 entries on the Billboard Hot 100 (including five No. 1s); 23 Billboard Music Awards; 12 Country Music Association Awards; 10 Grammys; and five world tours.

She also finishes the decade in a totally different realm of the music world from where she started. Swift’s crossover from country to pop -- hinted at on 2012’s Red and fully embraced on 2014’s 1989 -- reflected a mainstream era in which genres were blended with little abandon, where artists with roots in country, folk and trap music could join forces without anyone raising eyebrows. (See: Swift’s top 20 hit “End Game,” from 2017’s reputation, which featured Ed Sheeran and Future.)

Swift’s new album, Lover, released in August, is both a warm break from the darkness of reputation -- which was created during a wave of negative press generated by Swift’s public clash with Kanye West and Kim Kardashian-West -- as well as an amalgam of all her stylistic explorations through the years, from dreamy synth-pop to hushed country. “The skies were opening up in my life,” says Swift of the album, which garnered three Grammy nominations, including song of the year for the title track.

She recorded Lover after the Reputation Stadium Tour broke the record for the highest-grossing U.S. tour late last year. In 2020, Swift will embark on Lover Fest, a run of stadium dates that will feature a hand-picked lineup of artists (as yet unannounced) and allow Swift more time off from the road. “This is a year where I have to be there for my family -- there’s a lot of question marks throughout the next year, so I wanted to make sure that I could go home,” says Swift, likely referencing her mother’s cancer diagnosis, which inspired the Lover heart-wrencher “Soon You’ll Get Better.”

Now, however, Swift finds herself in a different highly publicized dispute. This time it’s with Scott Borchetta, the head of her former label, Big Machine Records, and Scooter Braun, the manager-mogul whose Ithaca Holdings acquired Big Machine Label Group and its master recordings, which include Swift’s six pre-Lover albums, in June. Upon news of the sale, Swift wrote in a Tumblr post that it was her “worst case scenario,” accusing Braun of “bullying” her throughout her career due to his connections with West. She maintains today that she was never given the opportunity to buy her masters outright. (On Tumblr, she wrote that she was offered the chance to “earn” back the masters to one of her albums for each new album she turned in if she re-signed with Big Machine; Borchetta disputed this characterization, saying she had the opportunity to acquire her masters in exchange for re-signing with the label for a “length of time” -- 10 more years, according to screenshots of legal documents posted on the Big Machine website.)

Swift has said that she intends to rerecord her first six albums next year -- starting next November, when she says she’s contractually able to -- in order to regain control of her recordings. But the back-and-forth appears to be nowhere near over: Last month, Swift alleged that Borchetta and Braun were blocking her from performing her past hits at the American Music Awards or using them in an upcoming Netflix documentary -- claims Big Machine characterized as “false information” in a response that did not get into specifics. (Swift ultimately performed the medley she had planned.) In the weeks following this interview, Braun said he was open to “all possibilities” in finding a “resolution,” and Billboard sources say that includes negotiating a sale. Swift remains interested in buying her masters, though the price could be a sticking point, given her rerecording plans, the control she has over the licensing of her music for film and TV, and the market growth since Braun’s acquisition.

However it plays out, the battle over her masters is the latest in a series of moves that has turned Swift into something of an advocate for artists’ rights -- and made her a cause that everyone from Halsey to Elizabeth Warren has rallied behind. From 2014 to 2017, Swift withheld her catalog from Spotify to protest the streaming company’s compensation rates, saying in a 2014 interview, “There should be an inherent value placed on art. I didn’t see that happening, perception-wise, when I put my music on Spotify.” In 2015, ahead of the launch of Apple Music, Swift wrote an open letter criticizing Apple for its plan to not pay royalties during the three-month free trial it was set to offer listeners; the company announced a new policy within 24 hours. Most recently, when she signed a new global deal with Universal Music Group in 2018, Swift (who is now on Republic Records) said one of the conditions of her contract was that UMG share proceeds from any sale of its Spotify equity with its roster of artists -- and make them nonrecoupable against those artists’ earnings.

During a wide-ranging conversation, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade expresses hope that she can help make the lives of creators a little easier in the years to come -- and a belief that her behind-the-scenes strides will be as integral to her legacy as her biggest singles. “New artists and producers and writers need work, and they need to be likable and get booked in sessions, and they can’t make noise -- but if I can, then I’m going to,” promises Swift. This is where being impossibly famous can be a very good thing. “I know that it seems like I’m very loud about this,” she says, “but it’s because someone has to be.”

While watching some of your performances this year -- like Saturday Night Live and NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert -- I was struck by how focused you seemed, like there were no distractions getting in the way of what you were trying to say.

That’s a really wonderful way of looking at this phase of my life and my music. I’ve spent a lot of time recalibrating my life to make it feel manageable. Because there were some years there where I felt like I didn’t quite know what exactly to give people and what to hold back, what to share and what to protect. I think a lot of people go through that, especially in the last decade. I broke through pre-social media, and then there was this phase where social media felt fun and casual and quirky and safe. And then it got to the point where everyone has to evaluate their relationship with social media. So I decided that the best thing I have to offer people is my music. I’m not really here to influence their fashion or their social lives. That has bled through into the live part of what I do.

Meanwhile, you’ve found a way to interact with your fans in this very pure way -- on your Tumblr page.

Tumblr is the last place on the internet where I feel like I can still make a joke because it feels small, like a neighborhood rather than an entire continent. We can kid around -- they literally drag me. It’s fun. That’s a real comfort zone for me. And just like anything else, I need breaks from it sometimes. But when I do participate in that space, it’s always in a very inside-joke, friend vibe. Sometimes, when I open Twitter, I get so overwhelmed that I just immediately close it. I haven’t had Twitter on my phone in a while because I don’t like to have too much news. Like, I follow politics, and that’s it. But I don’t like to follow who has broken up with who, or who wore an interesting pair of shoes. There’s only so much bandwidth my brain can really have.

It’s sort of an amalgamation of all of it. People who aren’t active fans of your music, who like one song but love to hear who has been canceled on Twitter. I’ve had several upheavals of somehow not being what I should be. And this happens to women in music way more than men. That’s why I get so many phone calls from new artists out of the blue -- like, “Hey, I’m getting my first wave of bad press, I’m freaking out, can I talk to you?” And the answer is always yes! I’m talking about more than 20 people who have randomly reached out to me. I take it as a compliment because it means that they see what has happened over the course of my career, over and over again.

Did you have someone like that to reach out to?

Not really, because my career has existed in lots of different neighborhoods of music. I had so many mentors in country music. Faith Hill was wonderful. She would reach out to me and invite me over and take me on tour, and I knew that I could talk to her. Crossing over to pop is a completely different world. Country music is a real community, and in pop I didn’t see that community as much. Now there is a bit of one between the girls in pop -- we all have each other’s numbers and text each other -- but when I first started out in pop it was very much you versus you versus you. We didn’t have a network, which is weird because we can help each other through these moments when you just feel completely isolated.

Do you feel like those barriers are actively being broken down now?

God, I hope so. I also hope people can call it out, [like] if you see a Grammy prediction article, and it’s just two women’s faces next to each other and feels a bit gratuitous. No one’s going to start out being perfectly educated on the intricacies of gender politics. The key is that people are trying to learn, and that’s great. No one’s going to get it perfect, but, God, please try.

At this point, who is your sounding board, creatively and professionally?

From a creative standpoint, I’ve been writing alone a lot more. I’m good with being alone, with thinking alone. When I come up with a marketing idea for the Lover tour, the album launch, the merch, I’ll go right to my management company that I’ve put together. I think a team is the best way to be managed. Just from my experience, I don’t think that this overarching, one-person-handles-my-career thing was ever going to work for me. Because that person ends up kind of being me who comes up with most of the ideas, and then I have an amazing team that facilitates those ideas.

The behind-the-scenes work is different for every phase of my career that I’m in. Putting together the festival shows that we’re doing for Lover is completely different than putting together the Reputation Stadium Tour. Putting together the reputation launch was so different than putting together the 1989 launch. So we really do attack things case by case, where the creative first informs everything else.

You’ve spoken before about how meaningful the reputation tour’s success was. What did it represent?

That tour was something that I wanted to immortalize in the Netflix special that we did because the album was a story, but it almost was like a story that wasn’t fully realized until you saw it live. It was so cool to hear people leaving the show being like, “I understand it now. I fully get it now.” There are a lot of red herrings and bait-and-switches in the choices that I’ll make with albums, because I want people to go and explore the body of work. You can never express how you feel over the course of an album in a single, so why try?

That seems especially true of your last three albums or so.

“Shake It Off” is nothing like the rest of 1989. It’s almost like I feel so much pressure with a first single that I don’t want the first single to be something that makes you feel like you’ve figured out what I’ve made on the rest of the project. I still truly believe in albums, whatever form you consume them in -- if you want to stream them or buy them or listen to them on vinyl. And I don’t think that makes me a staunch purist. I think that that is a strong feeling throughout the music industry. We’re running really fast toward a singles industry, but you got to believe in something. I still believe that albums are important.

The music industry has become increasingly global during the past decade. Is reaching new markets something you think about?

Yeah, and I’m always trying to learn. I’m learning from everyone. I’m learning when I go see Bruce Springsteen or Madonna do a theater show. And I’m learning from new artists who are coming out right now, just seeing what they’re doing and thinking, “That’s really cool.” You need to keep your influences broad and wide-ranging, and my favorite people who make music have always done that. I got to work with Andrew Lloyd Webber on the Cats movie, and Andrew will walk through the door and be like, “I’ve just seen this amazing thing on TikTok!” And I’m like, “You are it! You are it!” Because you cannot look at what quote-unquote “the kids are doing” and roll your eyes. You have to learn.

Have you explored TikTok at all?

I only see them when they’re posted to Tumblr, but I love them! I think that they’re hilarious and amazing. Andrew says that they’ve made musicals cool again, because there’s a huge musical facet to TikTok. [He’s] like, “Any way we can do that is good.”

How do you see your involvement in the business side of your career progressing in the next decade? You seem like someone who could eventually start a label or be more hands-on with signing artists.

I do think about it every once in a while, but if I was going to do it, I would need to do it with all of my energy. I know how important that is, when you’ve got someone else’s career in your hands, and I know how it feels when someone isn’t generous.

You’ve served as an ambassador of sorts for artists, especially recently -- staring down streaming services over payouts, increasing public awareness about the terms of record deals.

We have a long way to go. I think that we’re working off of an antiquated contractual system. We’re galloping toward a new industry but not thinking about recalibrating financial structures and compensation rates, taking care of producers and writers.

We need to think about how we handle master recordings, because this isn’t it. When I stood up and talked about this, I saw a lot of fans saying, “Wait, the creators of this work do not own their work, ever?” I spent 10 years of my life trying rigorously to purchase my masters outright and was then denied that opportunity, and I just don’t want that to happen to another artist if I can help it. I want to at least raise my hand and say, “This is something that an artist should be able to earn back over the course of their deal -- not as a renegotiation ploy -- and something that artists should maybe have the first right of refusal to buy.” God, I would have paid so much for them! Anything to own my work that was an actual sale option, but it wasn’t given to me.

Thankfully, there’s power in writing your music. Every week, we get a dozen synch requests to use “Shake It Off” in some advertisement or “Blank Space” in some movie trailer, and we say no to every single one of them. And the reason I’m rerecording my music next year is because I do want my music to live on. I do want it to be in movies, I do want it to be in commercials. But I only want that if I own it.

Do you know how long that rerecording process will take?

I don’t know! But it’s going to be fun, because it’ll feel like regaining a freedom and taking back what’s mine. When I created [these songs], I didn’t know what they would grow up to be. Going back in and knowing that it meant something to people is actually a really beautiful way to celebrate what the fans have done for my music.

Ten years ago, on the brink of the 2010s, you were about to turn 20. What advice would you give yourself if you could go back in time?

Oh, God -- I wouldn’t give myself any advice. I would have done everything exactly the same way. Because even the really tough things I’ve gone through taught me things that I never would have learned any other way. I really appreciate my experience, the ups and downs. And maybe that seems ridiculously Zen, but … I’ve got my friends, who like me for the right reasons. I’ve got my family. I’ve got my boyfriend. I’ve got my fans. I’ve got my cats.

#taylor swift #interview #billboard #women in music #woman of the decade

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path-of-my-childhood · 5 years

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Billboard Woman of the Decade Taylor Swift: 'I Do Want My Music to Live On'

By: Jason Lipshutz for Billboard Magazine Date: December 14th issue

One evening in late October, before she performed at a benefit concert at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles, Taylor Swift’s dressing room became - as it often does - an impromptu summit of music’s biggest names. Swift was there to take part in the American Cancer Society’s annual We Can Survive concert alongside Billie Eilish, Lizzo, Camila Cabello and others, and a few of the artists on the lineup came by to visit.

Eilish, along with her mother and her brother/collaborator, Finneas O’Connell, popped in to say hello - the first time she and Swift had met. Later, Swift joined the exclusive club of people who have seen Marshmello without his signature helmet when the EDM star and his manager stopped by.

“Two dudes walked in - I didn’t know which one was him,” recalls Swift a few weeks later, sitting on a lounge chair in the backyard of a private Beverly Hills residence following a photo shoot. Her momentary confusion turned into a pang of envy. “It’s really smart! Because he’s got a life, and he can get a house that doesn’t have to have a paparazzi-proof entrance.” She stops to adjust her gray sweatshirt dress and lets out a clipped laugh.

She also finishes the decade in a totally different realm of the music world from where she started. Swift’s crossover from country to pop - hinted at on 2012’s Red and fully embraced on 2014’s 1989 - reflected a mainstream era in which genres were blended with little abandon, where artists with roots in country, folk and trap music could join forces without anyone raising eyebrows. (See: Swift’s top 20 hit “End Game,” from 2017’s reputation, which featured Ed Sheeran and Future.)

Swift’s new album, Lover, released in August, is both a warm break from the darkness of reputation - which was created during a wave of negative press generated by Swift’s public clash with Kanye West and Kim Kardashian-West - as well as an amalgam of all her stylistic explorations through the years, from dreamy synth-pop to hushed country. “The skies were opening up in my life,” says Swift of the album, which garnered three Grammy nominations, including song of the year for the title track.

She recorded Lover after the Reputation Stadium Tour broke the record for the highest-grossing U.S. tour late last year. In 2020, Swift will embark on Lover Fest, a run of stadium dates that will feature a hand-picked lineup of artists (as yet unannounced) and allow Swift more time off from the road. “This is a year where I have to be there for my family - there’s a lot of question marks throughout the next year, so I wanted to make sure that I could go home,” says Swift, likely referencing her mother’s cancer diagnosis, which inspired the Lover heart-wrencher “Soon You’ll Get Better.”

Now, however, Swift finds herself in a different highly publicized dispute. This time it’s with Scott Borchetta, the head of her former label, Big Machine Records, and Scooter Braun, the manager-mogul whose Ithaca Holdings acquired Big Machine Label Group and its master recordings, which include Swift’s six pre-Lover albums, in June. Upon news of the sale, Swift wrote in a Tumblr post that it was her “worst case scenario,” accusing Braun of “bullying” her throughout her career due to his connections with West. She maintains today that she was never given the opportunity to buy her masters outright. (On Tumblr, she wrote that she was offered the chance to “earn” back the masters to one of her albums for each new album she turned in if she re-signed with Big Machine; Borchetta disputed this characterization, saying she had the opportunity to acquire her masters in exchange for re-signing with the label for a “length of time” - 10 more years, according to screenshots of legal documents posted on the Big Machine website.)

Swift has said that she intends to rerecord her first six albums next year, starting next November, when she says she’s contractually able to - in order to regain control of her recordings. But the back-and-forth appears to be nowhere near over: Last month, Swift alleged that Borchetta and Braun were blocking her from performing her past hits at the American Music Awards or using them in an upcoming Netflix documentary - claims Big Machine characterized as “false information” in a response that did not get into specifics. (Swift ultimately performed the medley she had planned.) In the weeks following this interview, Braun said he was open to “all possibilities” in finding a “resolution,” and Billboard sources say that includes negotiating a sale. Swift remains interested in buying her masters, though the price could be a sticking point, given her rerecording plans, the control she has over the licensing of her music for film and TV, and the market growth since Braun’s acquisition.

However it plays out, the battle over her masters is the latest in a series of moves that has turned Swift into something of an advocate for artists’ rights, and made her a cause that everyone from Halsey to Elizabeth Warren has rallied behind. From 2014 to 2017, Swift withheld her catalog from Spotify to protest the streaming company’s compensation rates, saying in a 2014 interview, “There should be an inherent value placed on art. I didn’t see that happening, perception-wise, when I put my music on Spotify.” In 2015, ahead of the launch of Apple Music, Swift wrote an open letter criticizing Apple for its plan to not pay royalties during the three-month free trial it was set to offer listeners; the company announced a new policy within 24 hours. Most recently, when she signed a new global deal with Universal Music Group in 2018, Swift (who is now on Republic Records) said one of the conditions of her contract was that UMG share proceeds from any sale of its Spotify equity with its roster of artists - and make them non-recoupable against those artists’ earnings.

During a wide-ranging conversation, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade expresses hope that she can help make the lives of creators a little easier in the years to come - and a belief that her behind-the-scenes strides will be as integral to her legacy as her biggest singles. “New artists and producers and writers need work, and they need to be likable and get booked in sessions, and they can’t make noise - but if I can, then I’m going to,” promises Swift. This is where being impossibly famous can be a very good thing. “I know that it seems like I’m very loud about this,” she says, “but it’s because someone has to be.”

While watching some of your performances this year - like SNL and NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert - I was struck by how focused you seemed, like there were no distractions getting in the way of what you were trying to say. That’s a really wonderful way of looking at this phase of my life and my music. I’ve spent a lot of time re-calibrating my life to make it feel manageable. Because there were some years there where I felt like I didn’t quite know what exactly to give people and what to hold back, what to share and what to protect. I think a lot of people go through that, especially in the last decade. I broke through pre-social media, and then there was this phase where social media felt fun and casual and quirky and safe. And then it got to the point where everyone has to evaluate their relationship with social media. So I decided that the best thing I have to offer people is my music. I’m not really here to influence their fashion or their social lives. That has bled through into the live part of what I do.

Meanwhile, you’ve found a way to interact with your fans in this very pure way - on your Tumblr page. Tumblr is the last place on the internet where I feel like I can still make a joke because it feels small, like a neighborhood rather than an entire continent. We can kid around - they literally drag me. It’s fun. That’s a real comfort zone for me. And just like anything else, I need breaks from it sometimes. But when I do participate in that space, it’s always in a very inside-joke, friend vibe. Sometimes, when I open Twitter, I get so overwhelmed that I just immediately close it. I haven’t had Twitter on my phone in a while because I don’t like to have too much news. Like, I follow politics, and that’s it. But I don’t like to follow who has broken up with who, or who wore an interesting pair of shoes. There’s only so much bandwidth my brain can really have.

You’ve spoken in recent interviews about the general expectations you’ve faced, using phrases like “They’ve wanted to see this” and “They hated me for this.” Who is “they”? Is it social media or disparaging think pieces or... It’s sort of an amalgamation of all of it. People who aren’t active fans of your music, who like one song but love to hear who has been canceled on Twitter. I’ve had several upheavals of somehow not being what I should be. And this happens to women in music way more than men. That’s why I get so many phone calls from new artists out of the blue - like, “Hey, I’m getting my first wave of bad press, I’m freaking out, can I talk to you?” And the answer is always yes! I’m talking about more than 20 people who have randomly reached out to me. I take it as a compliment because it means that they see what has happened over the course of my career, over and over again.

Did you have someone like that to reach out to? Not really, because my career has existed in lots of different neighborhoods of music. I had so many mentors in country music. Faith Hill was wonderful. She would reach out to me and invite me over and take me on tour, and I knew that I could talk to her. Crossing over to pop is a completely different world. Country music is a real community, and in pop I didn’t see that community as much. Now there is a bit of one between the girls in pop - we all have each other’s numbers and text each other - but when I first started out in pop it was very much you versus you versus you. We didn’t have a network, which is weird because we can help each other through these moments when you just feel completely isolated.

Do you feel like those barriers are actively being broken down now? God, I hope so. I also hope people can call it out, [like] if you see a Grammy prediction article, and it’s just two women’s faces next to each other and feels a bit gratuitous. No one’s going to start out being perfectly educated on the intricacies of gender politics. The key is that people are trying to learn, and that’s great. No one’s going to get it perfect, but, God, please try.

At this point, who is your sounding board, creatively and professionally From a creative standpoint, I’ve been writing alone a lot more. I’m good with being alone, with thinking alone. When I come up with a marketing idea for the Lover tour, the album launch, the merch, I’ll go right to my management company that I’ve put together. I think a team is the best way to be managed. Just from my experience, I don’t think that this overarching, one-person-handles-my-career thing was ever going to work for me. Because that person ends up kind of being me who comes up with most of the ideas, and then I have an amazing team that facilitates those ideas. The behind-the-scenes work is different for every phase of my career that I’m in. Putting together the festival shows that we’re doing for Lover is completely different than putting together the Reputation Stadium Tour. Putting together the reputation launch was so different than putting together the 1989 launch. So we really do attack things case by case, where the creative first informs everything else.

You’ve spoken before about how meaningful the reputation tour’s success was. What did it represent? That tour was something that I wanted to immortalize in the Netflix special that we did because the album was a story, but it almost was like a story that wasn’t fully realized until you saw it live. It was so cool to hear people leaving the show being like, “I understand it now. I fully get it now.” There are a lot of red herrings and bait-and-switches in the choices that I’ll make with albums, because I want people to go and explore the body of work. You can never express how you feel over the course of an album in a single, so why try?

That seems especially true of your last three albums or so. “Shake It Off” is nothing like the rest of 1989. It’s almost like I feel so much pressure with a first single that I don’t want the first single to be something that makes you feel like you’ve figured out what I’ve made on the rest of the project. I still truly believe in albums, whatever form you consume them in - if you want to stream them or buy them or listen to them on vinyl. And I don’t think that makes me a staunch purist. I think that that is a strong feeling throughout the music industry. We’re running really fast toward a singles industry, but you got to believe in something. I still believe that albums are important.

The music industry has become increasingly global during the past decade. Is reaching new markets something you think about? Yeah, and I’m always trying to learn. I’m learning from everyone. I’m learning when I go see Bruce Springsteen or Madonna do a theater show. And I’m learning from new artists who are coming out right now, just seeing what they’re doing and thinking, “That’s really cool.” You need to keep your influences broad and wide-ranging, and my favorite people who make music have always done that. I got to work with Andrew Lloyd Webber on the Cats movie, and Andrew will walk through the door and be like, “I’ve just seen this amazing thing on TikTok!” And I’m like, “You are it! You are it!” Because you cannot look at what quote-unquote “the kids are doing” and roll your eyes. You have to learn.

Have you explored TikTok at all? I only see them when they’re posted to Tumblr, but I love them! I think that they’re hilarious and amazing. Andrew says that they’ve made musicals cool again, because there’s a huge musical facet to TikTok. [He’s] like, “Any way we can do that is good.”

How do you see your involvement in the business side of your career progressing in the next decade? You seem like someone who could eventually start a label or be more hands-on with signing artists. I do think about it every once in a while, but if I was going to do it, I would need to do it with all of my energy. I know how important that is, when you’ve got someone else’s career in your hands, and I know how it feels when someone isn’t generous.

You’ve served as an ambassador of sorts for artists, especially recently - staring down streaming services over payouts, increasing public awareness about the terms of record deals. We have a long way to go. I think that we’re working off of an antiquated contractual system. We’re galloping toward a new industry but not thinking about re-calibrating financial structures and compensation rates, taking care of producers and writers. We need to think about how we handle master recordings, because this isn’t it. When I stood up and talked about this, I saw a lot of fans saying, “Wait, the creators of this work do not own their work, ever?” I spent 10 years of my life trying rigorously to purchase my masters outright and was then denied that opportunity, and I just don’t want that to happen to another artist if I can help it. I want to at least raise my hand and say, “This is something that an artist should be able to earn back over the course of their deal - not as a renegotiation ploy - and something that artists should maybe have the first right of refusal to buy.” God, I would have paid so much for them! Anything to own my work that was an actual sale option, but it wasn’t given to me. Thankfully, there’s power in writing your music. Every week, we get a dozen synch requests to use “Shake It Off” in some advertisement or “Blank Space” in some movie trailer, and we say no to every single one of them. And the reason I’m rerecording my music next year is because I do want my music to live on. I do want it to be in movies, I do want it to be in commercials. But I only want that if I own it.

Do you know how long that rerecording process will take? I don’t know! But it’s going to be fun, because it’ll feel like regaining a freedom and taking back what’s mine. When I created [these songs], I didn’t know what they would grow up to be. Going back in and knowing that it meant something to people is actually a really beautiful way to celebrate what the fans have done for my music.

Ten years ago, on the brink of the 2010s, you were about to turn 20. What advice would you give yourself if you could go back in time? Oh, God - I wouldn’t give myself any advice. I would have done everything exactly the same way. Because even the really tough things I’ve gone through taught me things that I never would have learned any other way. I really appreciate my experience, the ups and downs. And maybe that seems ridiculously Zen, but... I’ve got my friends, who like me for the right reasons. I’ve got my family. I’ve got my boyfriend. I’ve got my fans. I’ve got my cats.

Taylor Swift Discusses 'The Man' & 'It's Nice To Have a Friend' In Cover Story Outtakes

Billboard // by Jason Lipshutz // December 12th 2019

During her cover story interview for Billboard’s Women In Music issue, Taylor Swift discussed several aspects of her mega-selling seventh studio album Lover, including its creation after a personal “recalibrating” period, her stripped-down performances of its songs and her plans to showcase the full-length live with her Lover Fest shows next year. In two moments from the extended conversation that did not make the print story, Billboard’s Woman of the Decade also touched upon two of the album’s highlights, which double as a pair of the more interesting songs in her discography: “The Man” and “It’s Nice To Have A Friend.”

“The Man” imagines how Swift’s experience as a person, artist and figure within the music industry would have been different had she been a man, highlighting how much harder women have to work in order to succeed (“I’m so sick of running as fast as I can / Wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man,” she sings in the chorus). The song has become a fan favorite since the release of Lover, and Swift recently opened a career-spanning medley with the song at the 2019 American Music Awards.

When asked about “The Man,” Swift pointed out specific double standards that exist in everyday life and explained why she wanted to turn that frustration into a pop single. Read Swift’s full thoughts on “The Man” below:

“It was a song that I wrote from my personal experience, but also from a general experience that I’ve heard from women in all parts of our industry. And I think that, the more we can talk about it in a song like that, the better off we’ll be in a place to call it out when it’s happening. So many of these things are ingrained in even women, these perceptions, and it’s really about re-training your own brain to be less critical of women when we are not criticizing men for the same things. So many things that men do, you know, can be phoned-in that cannot be phoned-in for us. We have to really — God, we have to curate and cater everything, but we have to make it look like an accident. Because if we make a mistake, that’s our fault, but if we strategize so that we won’t make a mistake, we’re calculating.

“There is a bit of a damned-if-we-do, damned-if-we-don’t thing happening in music, and that’s why when I can, like, sit and talk and be like ‘Yeah, this sucks for me too,’ that feels good. When I go online and hear the stories of my fans talking about their experience in the working world, or even at school — the more we talk about it, the better off we’ll be. And I wanted to make it catchy for a reason — so that it would get stuck in people’s heads, [so] they would end up with a song about gender inequality stuck in their heads. And for me, that’s a good day.”

Meanwhile, the penultimate song on Lover, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend,” sounds unlike anything in Swift’s catalog thanks to its elliptical structure, lullaby-like tone and incorporation of steel drums and brass. When asked about the song, Swift talked about experimenting with her songwriting, as well as capturing a different angle of the emotional themes at the heart of Lover. Read Swift’s full thoughts on “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” below:

“It was fun to write a song that was just verses, because my whole body and soul wants to make a chorus — every time I sit down to write a song, I’m like, ‘Okay, chorus time, let’s get the chorus done.’ But with that song, it was more of like a poem, and a story and a vibe and a feeling of... I love metaphors that kind of have more than one meaning, and I think I loved the idea that, on an album called Lover, we all want love, we all want to find somebody to see our sights with and hear things with and experience things with.

“But at the end of the day we’ve been searching for that since we were kids! When you had a friend when you were nine years old, and that friend was all you talked about, and you wanted to have sleepovers and you wanted to walk down the street together and sit there drawing pictures together or be silent together, or be talking all night. We’re just looking for that, but endless sparks, as adults.”

Read the full Taylor Swift cover story here, and click here for more info on Billboard’s 2019 Women In Music event, during which Swift will be presented with the first-ever Woman of the Decade award.

[link to this tweet]

Was there ever a part of you that was like, “Oh shit, I like this darker vibe, let’s go even further down that path?” I really Loved Reputation because it felt like a rock opera, or a musical, doing it live. Doing that stadium show was so fun because it was so theatrical and so exciting to perform that, because it’s really cathartic! But I have to follow whatever direction my life is going in emotionally... The skies were opening up in my life. That’s what happened. But in a way that felt like a pink sky, a pink and purple sky, after a storm, and now it looks even more beautiful because it looked so stormy before. And that’s just like, I couldn't stop writing. I’ve never had an album with 18 songs on it before, and a lot of what I do is based on intuition. So, you know, I try not to overthink it. Who knows, there may be another dark album. I plan on doing lots of experimentation over the course of my career. Who knows? But it was a blast, I really loved it.

I mean, look, a Taylor Swift screamo album? I’ll be first in line. I’m so happy to hear that, because I think you might be the only one. Ha! I have a terrible scream. It’s obnoxious.

Why Taylor Swift's Lover Fest Will Be Her Next Big Step

Billboard // by Jason Lipshutz // December 11th 2019 - [Excerpt]

On why she chose to put together Lover fest: “I haven’t really done festivals in years - not since I was a teenager. That’s something that [the fans] don’t expect from me, so that’s why I wanted to do it. I want to challenge myself with new things and at the same time keep giving my fans something to connect to.”

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prettylittlehargrove · 5 years

Text

Party Crashers

Request - Here

Summary - Billy and Mayor Clines daughter are in a super secret relationship, but things become a little restless and the truth gets revealed by accident... but not in the best way...

Warnings - Tommy being a bit of a creep lmao, Alcohol consumption, Mentions of underaged drinking, a small mention of drugs

Word Count - 2048 , I finally counted them yay!! x

Authors Notes - This was a hefty one and i’m so sorry it was so late, ive been super preoccupied and I also wanted to make this to the best of my abilities and I hope you enjoy it! x

Everyone in Hawkins knew you. Everyone.

A lot of people would think of this as some popularity dream come true, but in all honesty it was a nightmare. Any hope at a relationship was diminished due to a lack of privacy, even going to the store at the weekend people made a fuss.

“The mayors daughter bought meat? Does she hate animals?” Or “Y/N L/N caught smoking!” And your personal favourite “The Mayors Soon To Be A Grandad”. That was after a certain Harrington got caught making out with you behind his car.

That was another problem with relationships, you were constantly being set up with rich kids who owned islands and beaches. Steve was the most casual relationship you’d had after his parents started to cozy up to your father. Unfortunately that didn’t end on the best of terms, both of you growing apart romantically and only really wanting to keep in sexual contact till you officially broke it off.

But then he came. Sun kissed skin and golden curls, he was the definition of a bad boy. Someone your parents would hate the thought of you dating. Billy Hargrove.

He was the everything you’d been told to walk away from. But instead you walked towards him, and soon enough you’d formed yourself a secret relationship.

Making out in his camaro at midnight, down by an old wreck on the outskirts of town. Fucking in your bed at the dead of night whilst he held your hands. Cuddling up on his sofa whilst you got out of your mind high.

He was a rush of adrenaline in your boring and plain life.

Every event you went to, your mind would wonder to the way his hands felt on your body, or how soft his lips were.

Everything was simply divine.

Tommy pulled a flyer from his bag and waved it around in Billy’s face. “There’s a fancy ass party up at the lakeside mansion, and I’d say we crash it tonight, theres gonna be beer and shit, they probably do drugs too man, all rich people do drugs right?” He blabbed, a sure fantasy made up in his mind about some crazy party going on.

“Sure whatever, but you’re in the shit if there’s no beer k?” He chuckled, flicking his cigarette on the floor. His eyes gazed around the parking lot, trying to scope you out. Usually, he didn’t have that hard a time, your elegant stature and bounce in your step drew obvious attention towards you. Finally he caught sight of the familiar heels that clicked against the concrete.

“Y/L Cline man... fuck if I wasn’t with Carol I’d fucking-“ Billy elbowed him harshly and dragged his eyes to look at the rest of you.

“I gotta go” he mumbled, heading to your usual make out spot, the back of the school, behind the bike shed.

You did the same, waving goodbye to your friends to go ‘do some errand’.

Quietly, you looked around to make sure the coast was clear before heading behind the shed to meet with Billy.

“Heya Princess” he winked, his arms were open as he engulfed you into a strong hug. Squeezing you a little before pulling away. You leaned up on your tip toes and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

“Can we pretty please hang out tonight? It’s my birthday tmr and I wanna make sure I get to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go to some shoddy event...” Billy sighed, remembering back to Tommy.

“I wanna so bad princess, but Tommy asked me to do something with him... and I’ve kinda stood him up like 5-6 times already, I’m an asshole but not a jerk” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek one last time.

“Well be safe and don’t get too drunk or high, because I’m not prepared to try and heave a 5,10 brute through my window again... mr muscles..” giving his bicep a quick squeeze. “Oh and before I forget, here’s your lunch... Maxine told me to make something with jam in it” Billy’s face lit up, food being something that always got him in a good mood.

“Thank you angel, and you can call her Max if you want... I only call her Maxine because it pisses her off etc..” His voice lowered a little in embarrassment and slight shame.

“Don’t worry, I tease my younger cousins all the time” you giggled, handing him his sandwich and giving him a tight hug. “See you when I see you, and I’m expecting a birthday kiss tomorrow!” You giggled and headed away from the spot.

9pm headed around the corner as Billy waited outside Tommy’s house.

“Thought your parents were rich as shit, why aren’t you going?” He muttered, lighting a cigarette.

“Not as rich as these fuckers... probably related to royalty or something.. gonna get so wasted tonight” Tommy chuckled. “So we sneak in through the back and head across the hall towards the wine cellar, and then figure it out from there” The plan was stupid enough, let alone Tommy’s fantasy that he was gonna get beyond wasted.

Your mother fussed around the house, dressed in a gown with her hair tied up and prepped. “Y/N! Why aren’t you ready? The party is in an hour and you’re in your dinner wear?” She scolded, heading down the hall, muttering something or other about how irresponsible you were.

In all fairness you’d completely forgot about this party, it was a small celebration by your fathers lake house. A few kids from your old middle school would be there, probably dressed in diamonds and crystals. Private school wasn’t your favourite place in the world...

Quickly, you shoved on a gown from your wardrobe and did it up. Your mother rushed into the room, pulling your arm to take you to her bedroom where she curled your hair and applied some makeup to your face. “Can’t believe you’re wearing this old thing darling... there’s a pink dress in there that I bought especially for this event” she huffed. So you scuttled off down the hall and carefully stripped yourself of the green gown, being aware that you had a full face of makeup and hair was sprayed perfectly into place. The pink dress was pretty and hung perfectly on your frame... a bit flouncy but still beautiful.

Finally you were ready, getting into your fathers car and heading straight for your birthday party thingy.

Billy heaved Tommy up the wall and over into the garden.

Tux on and everything. If he was to say so himself, Billy thought he looked quite handsome, might keep it on and surprise you later.

They both landed on some bush and wiped themselves down, climbing from the foliage.

“There it is, the lake house. These really are some rich fuckers” Tommy smirked, admiring the huge mansion, lit up with classical music coming from it.

“Right, but I don’t see any bear?” A low growl causing Tommy to twiddle his thumbs.

“Eh well maybe there might not be beer, but! There might be... ok truth is these guys have a daughter and I’ve heard that she’s hella hot so I kinda wanna see for myself ya know” Billy rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You have a girlfriend”

“You don’t”

“Yeah I - I don’t” Billy stiffened up, remembering the pinkie promise you’d forced him to make.

“Right so let’s go get you laid, and then you can tell me everything” He smirked, eyebrows wiggling as he pushed Billy towards the house.

“Look man I’m tired”

“Bullshit” he chuckled, pushing him through the doors. The house was indeed grand, marble check floors with beautiful fluffy rugs and a glamorous chandelier hanging in the middle.

“Who the hell owns this place?” Tommy shrugged and dusted off his tux.

“No way... I think there is beer” The mischievous grin played on Tommy’s face as he spied a rather large old man swigging back some liquid.

You sat glumly with Sabrina, she chatted on about how ravish her private school life was and how perfect everything was going, something like that. Your mind wondering to Billy, how he’s probably high as hell right now without you. Everything was boring and dull without him.

“Dude! Let’s check out upstairs” Tommy grabbed Billy’s arm and hauled him up the stairs a long corridor of various doors facing them. A voice started to make its way up the stairs to, quickly Tommy shoved himself and Billy into the first door. They both stumbled and fell into the huge room.

“Holy shit dude... this is the chicks room” Tommy slurred, that clearly wasn’t beer that he was chugging back.

Slowly Billy took in the surroundings. His eyes focusing on a picture on the dresser. Was that him? Then it dawned on him.

Who was rich, had a lake house and was a chick? His girlfriend.

Fuck.

Tommy started to shift through the closet, grabbing a pair of panties and holding them up.

“Woah... she’s foxy” he was hammered.

“Give me those” Billy snatched the panties out of Tommy’s hand.

The voice that had been following them got louder. Quickly Billy grabbed Tommy and pulled him into the other side of the bed, forcing him to duck.

“So this is my daughters room... goodness, it’s quite a mess, I apologise she doesn’t-“ A loud thud cut off your mother’s words. She let out a screech as two teenage boys stumbled from behind the bed. One drunk and laughing, the other looking like a deer in the headlights.

And that very moment led to Billy sat in front of the very Mayor himself, you sat right next to him and Tommy sitting against the wall.

“He’s my boyfriend and I tried to sneak him in” you mumbled, fuddling with your fingers, trying your best to not get Billy into trouble.

“So you snuck him through the window? Look I don’t want to hear it anymore, you can’t see him again, and you boy, if you come near my daughter again I’ll have you out of this town fast” Your father was beyond mad. He looked about ready to kill.

“But dad-“

“She didn’t sneak me in, it’s not her fault, I just wanted to surprise her and I chose the wrong night” billy piped up, looking at the floor.

“Surprise her? Why?”

“Because it’s her birthday tomorrow and we probably wouldn’t have seen eachother on the day because you usually plan stuff out for her... so I came early”

“Without a gift?”

“Dad-“

“I don’t have much money sir but I do have a gift for her”

“What is it?”

“DAD?!” You squeaked, “look I’m tired of this, it doesn’t matter anyway, I love Billy but clearly you only ever care if he’s got money or if he’s some private school kid but I don’t care because he’s amazing and none of that matters” You sternly presented your point. Grabbing Billy’s hand and squeezing it.

“Fine, be with him but don’t expect to come running to me for comfort when he leaves you high and dry, and also if you break my daughters heart-“

“Dad... he gets it” you muttered, looking in Billy’s eyes. A small smile on both of your faces. Quietly your mother stood smiling to herself, rembering when her own father had yelled at her for dating some bad boy, turns out that bad boy became the mayor so jokes on him she chuckled to herself. History sure does repeat itself.

Tommy’s snores came from the back of the room.

“Dipshit wake up” Billy shoved his leg.

“Fuck off” Tommy grumbled, eyes still closed, Carol was gonna kill him.

“Langauge” you scolded both of them, taking Billy into the party again.

“I think we should head to your room” Billy whispered. You gave him a playful smack on the arm.

“We just got told off we can’t do that now-“ Billy held his hand out, a certain pair of lace panties in his palm.

“Why do you have those?!”

“Tommy’s a fucking perv” he grunted, as you both shuffled back into your room.

It was gonna be nice not to have to hide Billy anymore.

#Billy Hargrove #billy x reader #stranger things billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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cxptain-capsicle · 4 years

Text

Heavy Lies the Head

Pairings: Prince!Steve x Princess!Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, fighting, age gap, creepy dudes and me getting carried away

Masterlist Taglist

You were a prisoner, yet the King kept you comfortable, but for what? It was no surprise when your guards informed you that your rival Kingdom was preparing to siege your castle, the two Kingdoms had been at war since before you were born. Your father believed it to be a good idea to send out the entire arsenal to meet the men who were approaching your castle. You begged him not to, knowing it would quickly end in the slaughter of the armies. Your father was a proud man, who had no blood right to the throne but ruled as if he would never be met with consequences. For years he ruled this way and those consequences never came, but as you watched your rival King strive your father through the stomach with his sword, you knew that his shortcomings as King had finally caught up with him. Guards came bursting through your door, there was a plan to have you, your mother and your two sisters escape the castle. You and your party barely made it past the line of trees when a line of soldiers came forth. You ran with your mother and your sisters until you realized one was missing. Your youngest sister, Agnes, only 8 years old, was yards behind you, tripping over her skirts. You ran back and scooped her up in your arms, but then you felt an arm grab hold around your waist. You screamed as loudly as your body could allow you, which alerted one of the guard’s helping your family back into the castle. He ran to help you and your sister, but he was no match for the several men now running towards you.

“Take the princess.” You placed your youngest sister in his arms as you fought the man who was trying to pull you back into the trees. “Protect the Queen at all costs!” You shouted to him before two more men grabbed you and pulled you away from your home and your family.

_______

“I have told you before I have no quarrel with the King nor his Prince’s.” You groaned as one of the many guards sent to talk with you continued to ask you the same questions. “The war between our Kingdoms was my fathers doing, in sight of his demise I see no reason for there not to be peace after all these years.”

You were not unfamiliar with imprisonment, you’d seen it in your castle dozens of times but never like this. You were placed in a tower, given a maid who brought you all the food and water you could ask for, kept the fireplace burning and the only bondage you faced was the locked door. The King even sent you a new gown to replace the one that was dirtied in the forest, purple, the color of royalty.

“What makes you so certain the Queen would agree with you.” A new voice said behind you, which was accompanied by the closing of your door. When you turned you saw a man, you’d seen several times before but never out of armor or without at least a dozen armed guards.

“Your highness,” You curtsied before him.

“Even after I have sieged your castle, killed your father, your king, and taken you, prisoner, you still treat me with such pleasantries?” The King was much taller than you and made the room become colder.

“The King was no father to me nor my sisters, no husband to my mother, and no King to our people. I am sure that his death will be the cause of revels throughout the Kingdom.” The King chuckled and sat down in a chair by the fireplace. “Though if any harm were to come to the Queen or the Princesses, I doubt they would revel in your rule.”

“The siege ended once you were captured.” The King looked straight into your eyes, waiting impatiently for your reaction.

“Your armies do not control our castle?” You questioned.

“No, you are right, I see no reason for this war to continue now that your father is dead.” The King stood up and looked down at you with an expression more serious than before. “But we will not take any chances of betrayal if we do come to a treaty, so you will remain here until the official treaty is signed. You shall only be allowed to leave this room when accompanied by a guard or one of my sons.”

“Your sons?”

“Yes, they wish to extend this treaty into an alliance between the people they believe befriending the princess should help.” You nodded, not understanding why the King or his sons were being so welcoming of you and the treaty, but you were in no place to question it. After the King left, you asked the guards to escort you to a courtyard where you could get some air. The guards took you to a large courtyard with flower bushes and benches all around its perimeter.

“My Lady.” A male voice said from behind you. A young man was approaching you, he was much older than you probably by at least 8 years, but his smile made him seem like a boy. He was tall and had blond hair neatly combed back, he also shared the same crystal blue eyes that you had seen in the King.”

“You must be one of the Prince's.” You curtsied to him politely.

“Yes I am, Lady (Y/n), I am my father’s second son, Steven.” He smiled at you all too genuinely.

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, your highness-”

“Please,” He interrupted. “I wish for you to call me Steven, or Steve whichever you prefer.” He then picked a small purple flower, bowing his head and holding it out for you.

“Well, Steven, it is my pleasure.”

______

“Are you the oldest of your sisters, Lady (Y/n)?” You had been a “prisoner” for a few weeks now, and it seemed you were unable to escape the young prince’s sight.

“I am trying to read, my lord.” You looked over your book to Prince, who sat across from you.

“Just talk to me for a little while and then I shall leave you to your leisurely activities.”

You sighed and placed your book upon your lap. “If you mean to ask whether I should obtain the throne after my mother’s death, then yes, I shall.” Steven cocked his head at the aggressiveness in your voice.

“My pestering riles you or you do not wish for the crown.” He questioned your tone.

“I was not always the daughter destined for the throne.” You pressed your hands flatly against your skirts as you remembered your eldest sister who died not even three years ago after she received a fever while on a trip to Italy.

“Your sister,” The Prince nodded. “I’m sorry if I have upset you,”

“It’s quite alright.” You looked up to see him watching you carefully. “You know what it is like to grow up as the spare.” He nodded.

“My brother Grant is to be the heir to the throne after my father’s death,” Steven whispered as if he was speaking treasonous words. “My father is not younger any longer and yet my brother remains out on the battlefield and we have heard no word of whether or not he remains alive. I have come to terms with the thought that I may be King if my brother does not return.”

“And if he does?” You questioned him.

“Then he shall be King and will be my father’s problem to deal with.” He spits out, trying to hide the resentment in his voice.

“You bear ill will towards your brother?” You recognized the resentment in his voice, it was not the resentment of a man who’s had the crown stolen from him but of a man who has had all glory stolen from him.

“My brother is the heir to the throne and sees himself above his family and his people, he may be a good King someday but he has never been a good man or brother.” His eyes faded back to the casual happiness that you recognized all too well. “What about your father?”

“What about him?” You were taken aback at the mention of your father, which he had been tiptoeing around for weeks since his death.

“Your animosity for your father is all but unknown.” He slumped back casually in his chair. “Why?”

“My father does not support the notion of a female heir to the throne, yet he was blessed with four daughters.” The young Prince nodded understandably.

“What does the Queen believe?” He continued to press.

“My mother believes that a Queen needs a King and that a King needs a Queen, she will arrange my betrothal once it is time for me to take the crown I am sure.” You dreaded your inevitable betrothal, your father had put you off of men who will leech onto the royal family to take the throne for themselves.

“And you believe that will come soon?” You didn’t need to say this aloud, he always seemed to know what you were thinking, which made him easy to speak to.

“My mother has spoken of stepping down from the throne for years, now that the King is dead I see no reason that is holding her back. The only thing that stops her is…” You cut yourself off quickly.

“What holds the Queen back?” You saw Prince Steven’s blue eyes dilated with interest.

“My mother does not believe me fit for the crown, I believe she is waiting for my middle sister, Mary to come of age so that she may bestow the crown upon her head.” He did not need to ask for you to elaborate, for the look in his eyes was enough. “My sister is serious and confident for her age, she leads with her head rather than her heart.”

“I believe that leading with one’s heart is a virtue.” You could not tell if he said this out of honesty or to please you, which he so often tried to do.

“Maybe for a Princess but not a Queen,” You corrected him. “Yes... it would not surprise me if my mother has me betrothed to a Prince in the East and have me sent away to take the crown of a country which is not my own.”

“You don’t truly believe she would do such a thing?” He was shocked at the thought of the Queen ripping you from the throne in such a way.

“My mother loves her daughters dearly, but she is a Queen first and as long as she remains as such she will do what she believes is best for her country.” It made you angry not that your sister would obtain the crown but that you may be taken from your country. You did not wish for the throne, but you would rule it with dignity whence the time came.

“Steven!” A shouting voice called from the corridor. “Have you any idea where the Princess has gone-” The King stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Steven across from each other. “Ah, my lady don’t you think it indecent for the two of you to be together without a chaperone.”

“Don’t worry father, we were simply looking for a quiet place to read,” Steven saved you from having to respond to such a question.

“Well, Lady (Y/n) I am here to inform you that your mother and sisters will be joining us this time next week for a banquet where we shall officially announce the treaty between our Kingdoms.”

“Oh, that is wonderful,” You smiled brightly at the King, excited to see your family again.

“Yes well, please return to your leisures.” The King said finally before exiting the library.

“Oh, this is wonderful!” You shot up from your chair and pulled the Prince up to stand with you.

“Ah yes, we have not had a banquet in quite some time. I think you should enjoy yourself,” Steven took your hands and began to light-heartedly dance with you. “I shall need a dance partner you know,”

“I don’t believe you shall find a problem finding one.” You giggled and teasingly pulled away from him, but he pulled you from your waist and brought you close to him. You brought your eyes to meet his blue ones, ones that you had never seen so close before, and you realized that you had been robbed of his beauty from a distance. From up close his eyes were so mesmerizing it mattered not to you that you continued to dance in small squares with his hand on your waist. His eyes shone so brightly even in this dim library that you barely believed that they were real. Now your eyes traveled past his eyes to his neat blonde hair and sharp jaw. It was no secret that the young Prince was handsome, women seemed to fall at his feet, but you never considered yourself such a girl who could so easily do so. The Prince did pester you so often, but you enjoyed his company more than you did with any other man even back in your own Kingdom.

“Maybe but I have a particular Princess in mind.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his warm breath fanned your face, making your breath catch in your throat. “Promise that thou shall not dance with another and I shall do the same.” His hand that was not on your waist rose to the side of your face as his face got closer to yours.

“I promise,” You spoke so softly that you could barely hear yourself but he clearly could because once you said it he firmly grasped your chin and clashed his lips against yours. You had kissed no one before, as a Princess, you could not do such things for the fact you were expected to save such virtues for your husband. In shock you pulled away from the Prince, his eyes were wide with shock and fear that you would be angered with him.

“I am sorry Princess if I have acted out of turn-” He took a step away from you and his voice was smaller than you’d heard it before. Before he could finish, you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your body against him. He lost his balance and slightly tumbled back but wrapped his arm tightly around your waist to balance himself. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined kissing the Prince, you imagined that it would be slow and heartfelt. This kiss was heartfelt, but it was not slow and soft, it was fast and your lips were constantly crashing with his fearing that if they ever split for too long, then they would never come together again.

______

You continued seeing the Prince every day, sneaking off to far corners of the castle, sneaking kisses and lingering glances that you could never do in front of the King. Now you were being chased by the Prince through a garden that was seldom used by anyone other than him. Due to your uncomfortable shoes and heavy skirts he caught up to you in no time wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning you in a circle.

“Steven!” A harsh voice called it was none other than the King who had become notorious for interrupting your activities with the Prince. Steve placed you back onto the ground and took a shy step away. You tucked a hair that had become loose from your running behind your ear and stared at the ground.

“I’m sorry father we were just messing about.” Steve stumbled slightly over his words.

“Nevermind that now boy,” The King sighed heavily at his son’s behavior. “Your brother has returned from the battlefield, and Lady (Y/n) you must go prepare yourself for your family’s arrival and the banquet tonight.” You looked up to meet the King’s gaze that lasted a little longer than you would have liked, “Be off,” He elaborated.

“Oh,” You jumped realizing his intent, “Of course, thank you, your majesty.” You hurried off, catching one more glance of Steve’s red face before you went to your quarters.

A team came to bathe you, have you dressed and do your hair before the banquet, you continuously asked them if they’d heard the news of if your family had arrived but none of them had. You were told to stay in your room until an escort came to get you. You anxiously sat on your bed waiting for your door to open and once it did a small girl came plundering in.

“Y/n!” Your little sister Agnes screeched, and she jumped into your arms. Your mother and sister Mary calmly followed after her.

“I missed the three of you so much,” You hugged the other two girls.

“Well, it seems you’ve had good company,” Mary smirked slightly which confused you until you saw Prince Steven walk in behind them.

“I-I have found companionship, yes,” You chuckled slightly along with Steve.

“I believe that we are ready for you,” Steve broke in and brought you down to the banquet hall, there was already music and dancing which Agnes was eager to join. Mary took Agnes to dance, which left you, Steven, and your mother.

“I believed I was promised a dance,” Steve whispered in your ear causing shivers to run down your spine, you looked over to see your mother was already engaged with the King and so you took Steven’s hand and let him bring you to the dance floor. The song was slow but had a beat that still kept everyone on their feet. Steve wrapped his arm around your waist, and his other clasped your hand. It felt so familiar to be this close to him, yet you felt strange being so close in front of so many people.

“It’s fine,” He leaned down and whispered in your ear. “It’s just a dance.” He pulled away and let you see the wide grin on his face, and you must have had the same one. Such a thing out of this context would have you each in trouble, so you each felt as though you were sneaking your romance past the rest of the dancers.

The song quickly ended, and the King called everyone to gather for an announcement. As a part of a royal family, you and Steve were expected to come to the King’s side. Steve went to one side of the King to stand with his mother, a woman who looked a little like him but must have been where he got his kindness because her smile was so radiant it nearly took you off your feet. On the other side of the Queen was another boy a few years older than Steven which meant he was most likely double your age, having the same hardness as the King and slightly larger than Steve, which you didn’t believe was possible. This other man had dark hair similar to the color of the Queen, but eyes just as blue as Steve and his father’s. You immediately knew that this was Grant, the heir to the throne. He looked exactly like Steve had described him, cold, stern and serious.

You stood with your mother and sisters in order of age with your mother standing next to the King.

“As each of you knows, our two Kingdoms have been at wars for nearly two decades after the last siege our rival King was killed. Our two Kingdom’s have decided that we do not wish to wage war any longer.” A cheer erupted through the crowd, but the King silenced this. “As a form of peace, we have come to the idea that Princess (Y/n) and my son Prince Grant are to be betrothed and they will serve as my Queen and I’s successors.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you brought one arm to instinctively clutch your sister’s wrist to keep you from tumbling to the floor. The crowd cheered, and the band began to play once again, causing everyone to disperse to their dance partners. Your eyes fixated onto the ground, realizing that your mother had married you out of your throne and to a man you had never met.

“Y/n!” You felt a hard jab in your side and looked over to see it was your mother, you looked to your other side seeing Mary just as shocked as you were, knowing that now she would be the heir to the throne.

“Excuse me, your highness,” A deep voice said from in front of you, your head shot forward to see Prince Grant standing in front of you with his hand out signaling that he wished to dance. Something about the fact that he believed an extended hand was a way to ask a lady to dance made you upset. Your shaking hand took his, and he brought you to the center of the floor. He wrapped his arm around you and you had to fight every instinct not to pull away.

“You seem to be in quite a shock my lady,” His voice was smooth but not smooth like his brothers but in a cool and calm way that made his sound arrogant.

“Aren’t you?” You looked up at his eyes to see if they matched the rest of his demeanor. Yes, his eyes were blue and nearly identical to Prince Steven’s but they were not Steve’s. Steve’s eyes were blue like the ocean your mother took you to as a child, cool and refreshing, calm waters that allowed you to swim in for hours. Prince Grant's Eyes were like the stories your father would tell you before bed, unforgiving dark seas that could sink a ship before you could even call out to lower the sails.

“Of course not,” Grant smiled at the fact that he knew something that you did not. “My father sent me a letter upon your arrival saying that he wished to have us betrothed.”

This was nearly too much to process. Throughout the time that you had known Steven, you were already one foot into the chapel ready to marry his brother. In your shock you caught a glimpse of Steven leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, looking at you. Steve never had to tell you what he was thinking, he wore his heart and his mind upon his shoulder and you knew he was thinking: you promised to only dance with me. Once he met your gaze more a moment, he quickly turned and exited the hall out of the nearest corridor. Your eyes followed Steve until you felt the arm around your waist tighten and pull you in closer than even Steve and you had danced.

“My father did also tell me you and my brother had become acquitted.” You looked up at him and swore you saw anger. “I do hope that my brother recognizes that you are to be my Queen.” The surrounding grip became painful, and you pulled yourself away from the Prince.

“Excuse me,” You blurted before rapidly making your way over to the corridor that Steve had gone down. You had been down this corridor countless times in your stay. It was filled with dozens of doors and branches.

“Steve,” You whispered, hoping to bring him out of whatever hidden place he was in.

“(Y/n) (L/n)!” A hiss came from behind you. You turned to see your mother barreling towards you with a fuming expression on her face.

“Mother!” You practically screeched. “ Why would you do that?” You referred to your marriage to the future King.

“That was the King's proposal, do you wish for another war?” She matched your angry tone.

“I wish that my mother would not ship me off to such a vile man.” You began to walk away from her, finding Steve was all that was important at the moment.

“How could you say such things? You’ve never even met him.” Your mother continued after him.

“And yet I feel as though I’ve had my fill,” You scoffed. “I’ve heard what I need to make my own decision.”

“Who have you heard such things from? His brother, that reckless prince who you’ve spent so much time with. That boy is no match for a princess, he’s never going to be King.”

“Why should the throne make any difference when deciding whom I will love.” You turned around to yell at her. Tears filled your eyes, your mother would always be Queen before she would be your mother.

“You love him?” She gasped, clutching her hand over her heart with a shriek.

“Why does it matter?” You were disgusted with her reaction. “ I am not even twenty years of age, I should not be getting married, especially not to a prince in his thirties.”

“You know that age is not a factor when it comes to royal betrothal. I thought I taught you better than this.”

“I’m sorry that I’m not like you, mother! I don’t want to be a princess nor a queen, I want to be me.” You confidently stood your ground knowing that this is the worst thing you could say to your mother.

“I should hope that by the time you become Queen you will regret that.” She turned around violently and began back down the hall but she stopped and turned around. “And return to your fiance promptly.”

You waited until she was out of sight and then stomped along continuing your search for Steve. You continued whispering his name through every doorway until an idea hit you, the garden where you first met. You lifted your skirts and ran as fast as you could in your heals to the courtyard. When we finally got close enough to see you saw Steve sitting on a bench slumped over with a small purple flower in his hand.

“Steven!” You yelled as you ran towards him. You fell at his feet and looked up at him. He seemed unfazed at your attendance. You softly said his name and brought your hand up to his cheek but he pulled away, pushing himself up from the bench.

“Steve, please.” You begged as tears filled your eyes. Steve turned around and you saw his eyes, red and puffy, you couldn’t tell if his nose was red from tears or the cold air. He saw your tears beginning to fall down your cheeks as you sit on the ground, your large dress seeming to swallow you.

“Did you know?” He looked down at you with a hint of something you could not read. Anger? Sadness? Betrayal? You could always tell how he felt, it was unnerving that he could shut you out so easily.

“No!” You cried, begging him to believe you. “I swear to you I had no idea.” He nodded his head slowly as he put his hands in his pockets. “Steven please, I need you to believe me.” You placed your hands on both sides of his face, this time he did not shy away.

“Leave with me.” He said so quietly you believed you heard him wrong.

“What?” You said in shock as he wrapped his hands around your wrist and held you tight, trying to keep you with him.

“Runaway with me, tomorrow at sunrise, we can leave on one of the horses, they won’t realize that we’re gone until dinner.” You’d never heard anything so preposterous but he was serious.

“What about your mother, what about my sisters?” You shook your head at him.

“What about them? If they really cared about us then they would support this.” Steve let go of your wrists and put his large hand on the side of your face, you involuntarily leaned into his touch. “I love you Y/n.”

You looked up at his blue eyes searching them for any trace of a li but you found none. “I love you too Steve,” He slowly leaned down, his lips catching you in an agonizingly slow kiss before he took a large step away from you.

“I’m leaving tomorrow and dawn, I couldn’t stand seeing you marry another man. If you wish to come with me, meet me at the southwest stables.” With that he left in the direction of his quarters, leaving you with a decision to make

Part two is out now.

Tags:

@futuremrspeterparkerholland @zabdisamor @ouchiemyfinger @peterpandco @delicately-important-trash @whatdafricklefrackle @saturn-aka-six @teellmeyourwish @fearlessprncss @jillanaholland @camiidesandoval @raekenliar

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers #stever rogers x reader #prince!steve x reader #prince!steve x princess!reader #steve rogers au #midieval au

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ephemeral-afterlight · 5 years

Text

Day 8: Stab Wound

(But hold on a little while longer.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 8: Stab Wound

Word Count: 2054

Relationships: familial Creativitwins, platonic/familial dlamptr

Warnings: Stab wound (obviously), other minor injuries, blood, minor dissociation, lots and lots of cursing

A/N: yes, i know this is late! it’s only by 30 minutes though D: hopefully my characterization of the trash man is alright! this was fun to write hehe

Well. That wasn’t a very fun camping trip!

Remus has always been one for surprise. He likes the excitement, the variety, the fun! It’s healthy to keep a little bit of spice in your life. He’s not afraid to live by this sort of motto, because life is about the little things. Although, he isn’t sure that getting stabbed in the middle of the woods at three a.m. necessarily counts as little, but he’ll take what he can get.

So sue him! Maybe he likes to have a little fun sometimes. Routine is boring! Fuck patterns! Fuck authority! Cause anarchy!

And, uh, yeah. He’s pretty chill with living on the edge like that. But maybe… maybe just a bit further from the edge? He means, like, the edge of harmful societal expectations and complacency, or whatever dumb shit Dee and Lo-Lo rant about to each other at one in the morning. Remus loves his roommates, and would totally rip out a bitch’s spine for them, but they’re fucking nerds. Speak ENGLISH.

Yeah, the edge of “normal”. Not the edge of death.

He’s not gonna die out here, no siree. If he believes he’s immortal strongly enough, he will be. That’s what Barbie movies teach you, right? In any case, even though he refuses to die, getting stabbed hurts like a motherfucker, and it doesn’t help that it’s also storming. He just wanted a nice, fun camping trip, but nooo, some shitty-ass god out there decided “Oh! Time to turn Remus into a shitty cliche horror movie protagonist!”. Why can’t he be the antagonist? Or… wait, what’s the one in the middle of the two? The side character? He wants to be the one guy who is in the midst of all the action with the protag, but seemingly dies halfway through the movie, and then comes back at the end to be like, ”Haha, surprise, bitch! I’m not dead!”.

Huh. Maybe he shouldn’t make all of his life choices based on movie stereotypes.

Anyway, he wishes that at the very least it’d stop fucking raining, because it makes it seriously hard to crawl through the underbrush while slipping in mud and falling flat on his face every two seconds. The stab wound is painful, sure, but as long as he can keep pressure on it and not lose too much blood before he gets to the main road, he should be fine. But having to deal with the downpour hindering his movement and blinding most of his senses sucks ass. How the hell is he supposed to utilize his tracking skills and make sure he’s going the right way without being able to see, hear, or smell a single goddamn thing? He might like making other people wet, but that doesn’t mean he likes being wet himself.

So, he thinks he’s going the right direction. Trying to escape a batshit crazy murderer in the middle of the woods doesn’t leave you a lot of time to casually sit down at a table with a cup of tea and pull out your faded, burnt treasure map, but if he had a table and a cup of tea and a partially burnt map, he would totally do that. Maybe the killer would be so confused, he’d have time to run away.

The thought causes Remus to bark out a laugh into the white noise of the storm, which is a VBI (Very Bad Idea), because it goes straight to his stomach. The pain that radiates out from the wound is like, actually excruciating, hahaha! But... Remus is supposed to be the one who actually survives to the end. He-- he has to be. Who else is gonna fill Roman’s socks with wet concrete?

Oh, Roman. His brother would probably be crying like a little bitch if he were here. Now he’d be the protagonist, the one who’d make so many stupid decisions and somehow come out of it alive anyway. He’s like those teenage girls in horror movies who make you scream at the screen “Don’t go in the dark scary basement, you fucking idiot!” but for some reason, never have a single repercussion for any of their terrible choices. (Remus would be the one who would sacrifice himself for the main character near the end of the movie at the dramatic climax, but Roman can never know that.)

Maybe he wishes Roman was here so that he didn’t have to crawl all this way on his own, but whatever. His brother would probably be too busy whining about his ruined hair to help much, anyway. Not-- Not that Remus needs help! He is having a blast slipping and sliding through the sticks and mud and bushes, thank you very much!

“C’mon out, dude! Don’t draw out the inevitable!” a voice echoes from the trees, a yell that’s far too familiar for Remus’ liking. God, can this guy just give it up already? Go find some other helpless damsel to terrorize! He does not wanna try Remus right now. This may all be fun and games, but Remus is starting to get pissed off, and he is unafraid to take out the stress on this crazy dumbfuck.

Somehow, Remus is able to hear the guy’s footsteps come closer through the sound of the rain splashing all around him, and he speeds up. Probably better to just avoid the guy. Although Remus’d totally win in a fight, the dude does have a knife, and Remus would really prefer to not get stabbed a second time. There’s a drop ahead, a place where it looks like the floor disappears, so Remus shuffles over to it and peers over. It’s a small cliff, with maybe fifteen or so feet to the bottom, and Remus curses under his breath. Fuck, he’s gonna have to do it, isn’t he? And now that he’s looking, he can just barely make out some headlights flit through the trees and disappear, so he knows that he’s close to the main road.

With a grimace, Remus steels himself, then slides off the edge feet-first, trying to use his shoes as a brace against the incline. Of course, because his life fucking sucks, he somehow manages to hit a rock embedded in the side in the wrong crevice, and it pitches him forward off the wall to tumble to the ground below. He smacks into the wet dirt, is just barely able to bite his tongue hard enough to stop the scream from ripping from his throat, and he lands at the bottom harshly.

His stomach is on fire. It fucking hurts, feels like he’s being stabbed all over again a thousand times over. Bruises are definitely going to start forming all over his body from that fall, and coupled with the fact that his leg hit the ground at a weird angle, walking is going to be even worse than before. Fuck! Why can’t he just catch a fucking break?!

Remus pants hard, trying to work himself up to resuming his trek, when he hears his attacker’s voice calling out from above again. It sounds like he’s coming to the edge, so Remus just swallows hard and scoots himself over through the agonizing aches in his body to lay flat against the cliff wall. He just has to hope the dude doesn’t see him. He can’t really see very well through the storm, but Remus thinks he sees the guy look over the edge. Silence is key, and that’s pretty damn hard considering the absolute torture that is his wounds, but he has to. To survive.

He can’t die today.

And then the guy’s yelling for him again, and his voice is getting further away, and Remus waits in the mud until he can’t hear his footsteps anymore. Vigour and adrenaline now fully renewed, Remus bolts into the trees again, crawl morphing into a crouched run when he’s finally in cover. He clutches at his stomach to try to lessen the pain, which of course doesn’t help, but maybe it’ll keep some blood inside of him or something. Probably not best to bleed out right before he can get help. That’d be a shitty movie ending, if he’s being honest. Absolutely uncreative and unsatisfying. -11/10. 0% on Rotten Tomatoes. Is Remus delirious right now?

Despite all that, the sight of the road through a break in the trees is like a blissful breath of fresh air, a shining light of hope in the darkness. He’ll get to see Roman again, and prank Patton with bugs, and absolutely destroy Virge at video games, and listen to Dee and Lo-Lo’s stupid philosophy talks, and give his adoptive uncle Thomas a heart attack every time he does something stupid, and holy fuck maybe Remus is dying because when did he become sentimental? Ew.

A car finally comes along right as Remus manages to drag himself up onto the shoulder, and he waves frantically from where he’s kneeled on the ground in an effort to flag it down. Thank fuck, the car actually slows to a stop, and the window rolls down almost immediately. The face that pokes out is cute, and innocent-looking, and Remus prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that this person will actually help.

“Oh, jeez, are you okay? Why are you out on the road like this? Is-- Is that blood?!” the driver asks, horrified, and Remus tries to stumble closer. He doesn’t know what he looks like right now, but it’s probably horrifying, and he wouldn’t really blame this stranger if he drove away immediately. Maybe Remus will become like those ghost stories, the spooky legends about ghost hitchhikers. Ooh, maybe he’ll become a local cryptid! They can tell stories about him, and sell merch with his face on it, and he’ll be famous, and he can rub all of his sweet, sweet royalties in Roman’s face.

“Got-- I got stabbed. Crazy fucker got me while I was asleep. Help,” Remus manages to force out through his grit teeth, voice hoarse under the weight of the pain he’s in, and the driver looks extremely worried. For whose well-being, Remus has no clue.

“Alright, I’m taking you to the hospital. I couldn’t live with a guilty conscience if I left you out here. I’m Emile, by the way-- please don’t murder me, okay?” the stranger, Emile, says, and Remus chokes out a laugh despite himself. Emile gets out of his car and rushes through the drizzle without any hesitation, and Remus can already see that this is a genuinely good person. Anyone else would leave him here to die. He knows that. Even he’d leave himself here. But here this guy is, the kindest anyone has ever been to Remus, and it makes him wonder if he’ll still be as nice when he realizes that Remus’ personality is awful and the polar opposite of good and kind. (He knows he’ll never be good enough. He knows. He’s heard it enough, and he doesn’t need to be told again.)

“Not g’nna murder you. I can’t-- can’t even walk on my own, so,” Remus mumbles once he’s sure Emile is close enough to hear, and the latter just clicks his tongue with hands that frantically wave all around as if they don’t know where to go. Luckily enough for Remus, Emile pulls himself together quickly, slings an arm underneath his shoulder to help support his weight, and they limp back to the guy’s car together. As they do, Remus realizes the rain has stopped outright, and, well, isn’t that poetic?

Once he’s inside, dripping all over this stranger’s seats (okay, maybe he feels a little bad about that. When he’s a famous cryptid, he can pay for Emile to get his upholstery fixed), Remus starts to fade in and out. Not like the dying kind of “fading”, because he knows from multiple personal experiences what dying feels like, but more like he’s losing time as an effect of a literal stab wound. Oh, what did Lo-Lo call it? Desecrating? Dissipating? No, dissociating. Yeah, that’s the bitch. Yeah. Yeah...

He gets flashes now and again. Streetlamps outside, a tall building, hands underneath him, bright lights, rapid conversation. It smells like an E.R. It feels like home. He’s not gonna die today. Not yet.

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ymnfilter · 4 years

Text

He Found A Love [Klaine FF, One-Sided Sam/Kurt]

Summary:

Set somewhere between Born This Way and Rumors. Sam is jealous that Kurt doesn't have a crush on him anymore and is in a relationship with klaine.

Sam had first noticed Kurt when he first entered the Glee Choir Room. It's not surprising. Kurt demands attention. Not in a way Rachel does, with her loud voice and questionable actions. Kurt demands attention silently. As if he knows all he'll have to do is exist and everyone will always just look at him. He dresses like he wants to impress the world, acts like royalty even when he thinks no one is looking at him. During the weeks Sam has spent in the school, he has never once seen Kurt Hummel's facade slip.

But back to the point, Sam noticed Kurt when he first performed in the choir room. Mostly because Kurt had been staring at him quite intently. But Sam hadn't known then, hadn't really thought much about the other boy's glasz eyes, paper-delicate skin, or pretty features. He had just turned his head slightly more to the left and found himself mesmerized with Quinn instead.

It was easier to pin his affections on her. Because Quinn was a her.

He should've known it wouldn't last, though. He spent most of his time, that wasn't being spent chasing Quinn, looking for Kurt, or staring at Kurt, or wanting to talk to Kurt. Kurt had one of the softest voices he had ever heard. At the same time, he also had the coldest tone. He could tear you to pieces just with a few words and then heal you back to health with even less.

And Sam soaked in the attention Kurt gave him. It might be slightly childish but Sam liked that Kurt liked him even if he was going out with Quinn. He was on the football team, had the head cheerleader as his girlfriend, and had the (beautiful) resident gay kid in love with him. It was like he was living in a teen rom-com.

Nothing could go wrong.

But then, well. Then Blaine happened.

Suddenly there was another boy for Kurt to dump his affections onto. And he seemed to like this Blaine kid even more than he liked Sam. He was positively smitten, and while the rest of the glee club might find it cute, all Sam could do was find it irritating.

Because now Sam couldn't look for Kurt and find him looking back at him. Now whenever Sam looked at Kurt, it was to find the other boy grinning at his phone.

He couldn't talk to Kurt without realizing that the softness of his voice was gone. The gentle tone of his voice was reserved for quiet phone calls to his boyfriend in front of his locker in the middle of hallways. Or the parking lot, or sometimes even the choir room.

Sam hated it, but he could tolerate it. And it was fine, because even when Kurt texted Blaine between classes, he had to look up from his phone at some point and look at Sam instead. And just because Kurt wouldn't talk softly to him anymore, doesn't mean Sam couldn't make him laugh with his mad impression skillz.

Yes. Skillz with a 'z'.

But then Finn invited everyone over for game night, and Sam had all this excitement contained in him. Excitement for some undivided time with Kurt (and the rest of the boys, but at least not Blaine) excitement for getting to talk to Kurt. Maybe if he made Kurt laugh enough, Kurt will start using the soft voice with him again. Sam was really just very excited.

And then all his excitement turned to shit when he rang the doorbell to the Hudson-hummel household and a completely unfamiliar boy opened the door.

Sam had never seen him before, but he knew who he was. And he hated him for it.

"Who're you?" Puck asked from behind him, and the boy smiled, all straight white teeth and crinkled laugh lines. He looked like a fucking showman. Sam hated him more.

"I'm Blaine. Kurt's boyfriend."

"Ah. You're the boy my boy is smitten with. I'm Puck. This is Sam, and this is Mike." Puck made the introductions as Blaine opened the door wider to let everyone in.

"It's nice to meet you all. Kurt talk about you. I hope you don't mind Finn inviting me for game night too."

Finn invited him? Finn? Sam felt betrayed. With the way Finn always rolled his eyes whenever Kurt brought Blaine up in conversation, Sam was sure Finn hated the guy. And now he's inviting him to sacred game nights?

"Nah man, the more the merrier." Mike said with a smile, and Sam wanted to gasp dramatically in outrage.

"But the real question is, are you any good?" Puck asked with a smirk.

"I board an all boys private school. Trust me when I say that before Kurt, video games were the only way I could spend my nights and stay sane."

Sam bristled. Before Kurt? How did he spend his nights now then?

Sam was about to open his mouth and say something that was no doubt offensive. Maybe something about the guy's crazy curly hair, or how no matter how dapper he looked or acted, it still wouldn't change that he was still at least half a foot shorter than Sam.

Thankfully, they reached the living room by then, and Sam's attention was completely directed towards Kurt, who was sprawled across the small love seat, his head on the cushion and legs dangling from the arm of the chair. Those beautiful eyes looked up from where he was reading some girly magazine and smiled at Sam (and the rest of the guys, but really at Sam.)

"Hey, Kurt." Sam said and casually took a seat at the front of the sofa closest to the one Kurt occupied. Hah. He inwardly cheered, where you going to sit now, Blainey boy?

"Hey Sam." he said and smiled and Sam preened. Kurt turned to the others, "Hey, you guys."

Sam was still smirking silently as the others answered the greeting, but it dropped pretty fast when he saw Blaine making his way to the love seat Kurt was laying on. There was no space. Where was he going to sit? On Kurt's stomach? But then, Kurt silently raised his upper body up a bit, and Blaine sat on the space cleared, only for Kurt to drop his head on Blaine's lap the next second.

No.

Sam looked around, no body was looking at the two of them. Why wasn't anyone looking at the two of them? Mike just put on the Call of Duty 3 CD of the play station and Finn casually passed the controllers to everyone, including Blaine.

Why wasn't anybody going to say anything about those two essentially cuddling with each other on sacred game night?

"Dude, where's your mom? I thought you said she had a day off?" Sam said after a while. It was to mostly serve as a distraction whilst he tried to shoot at Blaine as subtly as possible. Sure, it wouldn't be good for their team (Blaine was a good player, for someone who's gay) but it was the only thing Sam could do not to snatch Kurt's hand where it was lightly caressing the back of Blaine's neck.

But then again, maybe if Kurt's dad and Finn's mom were home, they wouldn't let their son and his boyfriend act so couple-y and cozy in the middle of the living room.

"She and Burt went grocery shopping. They should be back in a bit."

From where he was sprawled on the couch, Kurt pouted,

"I really wanted to go too. I heard there's a sale on sea food this week."

"Dude, you always grab stuff that no body's even heard of before. And you won't let Burt get the good beer." Finn said as an explanation.

"That's because I would really like my dad to hit his 90s." Kurt snapped back, and before Sam could say anything to back Kurt up, Blaine piped up,

"Maybe they just wanted to spend some alone time together. It is the weekend."

"Grocery shopping? They wanted to spend some alone time together grocery shopping, Blaine?" and Sam snickered. Mike looked at him weirdly for a moment but Sam payed him no mind.

"Hey, come on. You love getting groceries with me."

Kurt was silent for a moment, and Sam's heart dropped, because when Kurt spoke next, it was a whole new level of soft voice.

"Well yeah, but it's shopping with you." Blaine looked away from the screen to grin at Kurt, and on screen his avatar died. Sam killed him. No body noticed.

"I rest my case." Blaine mumbled, and Sam cursed himself for sitting so close, because from this distance, he could hear the awe in Blaine's voice. He could also hear a soft, pleased , almost silent hmm that Kurt let out as a response.

"Hey Kurt, how's the French homework going?" Sam blurted out the first thing that came out of his mouth. And it was a very reasonable thing to ask, in his opinion. After all, everybody knew French was Kurt's favorite subject in school, a school that he didn't share with Blaine. Sam couldn't have thought of a better conversation topic to freeze Blaine out. But it back fired. Again. Because of course it did.

"You don't take French, Sam?" Kurt asked him with an adorable head tilt. Sam's mind went into overdrive,

"Yeah, but my friend, Brett does. He told me that your teacher was kind of really dragging you all through the mud this week."

Kurt scoffed,

"Brett? You mean that boy that smells homeless? I would hardly expect him to enjoy a language as sophisticated as French. I have no idea why he's taking it if he finds even the basic tenses difficult."

Sam didn't know what to say to that, but apparently Blaine did,

"You guys are still on tenses? In your junior year?"

"The rest of the year is. I myself, am already quite fluent. But, I really wouldn't mind someone I could practice it with. I can only talk to myself so much in French."

"You do know that you have a boyfriend who's also fluent in French?" Blaine teased him, glancing at Kurt for a moment before going back to looking at the TV screen,

"You wouldn't mind doing that for me?"

"Of course not. I'll just hit you up whenever I'm studying it, and we can practice together."

How does Sam manage to kick himself so thoroughly?

Before Sam can say something that would inadvertently end up with Blaine and Kurt spending even more time together, he hears the lock of the main door turn, and Mrs.H's voice calling out a sweet we're home! to the boys. Blaine deliberately dies onscreen and both him and Kurt get up to help Mrs. H and Kurt's dad with all the bags. Sam feels like he should help to, but it's probably like his 2nd time at the Hudmel's , and he is predominantly Finn's friend (who himself is still playing) even though he'd much rather be here as Kurt's boyfriend, so the whole thing would probably just be super awkward,

"Oh, Blaine dear, I didn't know you were coming over today! I would've made some of that custard you like so much."

"I hope it's no trouble, Carol. Finn invited me to game night. Plus, dad's off to Costa Rico on business." Blaine grins, "As for the custard, I was hoping you could teach me. Just in case I start showing withdrawal symptoms."

Carol laughs, "Oh honey, if I taught you how to make the custard, I'm afraid we might just not see you again."

"Yes." Kurt drawls, good naturedly, "That's why Blaine's my boyfriend. Because of custard."

"Darn it, you figured me out." Blaine retorts, but pulls Kurt closer to press his lips to the other boy's temple.

"My, aren't you too just the cutest!" Carol sighs and turns to Kurt's father just as he's coming in through the garage, "Aren't they just the cutest, sweetie?"

"Yes. That's how I'm going to end up in the hospital again. Diabetes from my son's relationship." Burt grunts before turning to Blaine with a grin, "Hey, kiddo. Didja watch the game yesterday?"

"Hell yeah. Buckeyes won 25-11. It was awesome."

"Yer damn right, it was. You staying over for dinner?"

Blaine smiles cheekily, "If you don't mind."

"Of course not, we haven't seen you in a bit over a week."

"Yeah, school's been a bit rough. Mid terms are coming up."

And the conversation continues between the four members as they put away all the grocery. They sound like a regular family, with Blaine blending seamlessly with his boyfriend's parents. It's all Sam can do to not groan out loud. If Mr. And Mrs Hummel are so supportive of Blaine and Blaine and Kurt's relationship, Sam can't really see any way to break them up so that Kurt would pay attention to him again.

It's a childish thought anyway. Sam thinks. It's not like he wants to date Kurt anyway. Sam's straight. He is. It's just, attention and hero worship directed towards him is good for his self esteem, regardless of the gender of his admirer.

And Sam admires Kurt, Kurt is beautiful and strong and elegant to the point where it's almost regal. To have someone like that admire Sam had gone to his head way too fast.

And yeah, maybe watching Blaine and Kurt together hurts Sam's stomach a little. But he's pretty sure he'll get over it eventually. Maybe he'll skip some of the Hudmel house game nights from now on. It'll be a step in the right direction.

#klaine #glee #old fic #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #kurt and blaine #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #ao3

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rough-n-randy-rando · 5 years

Text

Edd and Flow, Day One

For a town that neither shrank nor grew noticeably, any business that had opened within the last five years was considered new. Java Hut was one of those businesses. About the size of two shipping containers stacked on top of each other and crammed between The Candy Store and Toomey's Tattoos, it was usually a busy place. The very first weekend of summer, with everyone having taken off like they were on the lam, it was almost completely empty.

There were only three people keeping the place warm: Eddward Vincent, known locally as Double-Dee; Barb; just Barb; and a trucker just passing through. Barb, Just Barb, 65-year-old owner of Toomey's, was taking her break and enjoying another romance novel she'd saved from the Goodwill. The Trucker was deeply contemplating the selection of doughnuts to pair with his pitch-black coffee. Eddward Vincent was behind the counter, offering helpful dietary and nutritional advice on each item in an attempt to help him make up his mind.

"I'm not a fancy guy, just something sweet, but not too sweet, gotta watch my weight." The trucker slapped his belly, which thumped like a drum, and laughed. "Ah, hell, gimme the Maple Bar, I'm treatin' myself."

"Excellent choice, sir, one moment." Double-Dee pressed a button and enjoyed the impressed look on the man's face as the doughnut was cycled on a conveyor belt and slid into a waiting paper bag, then lifted to the counter by a spatula/elevator device riveted to the display case.

"Now that's nifty, this from Japan or somethin'?"

"No Sir, it's a design of my own!"

"Well waddya know, we still make 'em smart here in the States after all." The man handed over a five and waved off the change. "Put it to college and remember me when ya win the Nobel or somethin'."

"Thank you, have a wonderful day."

After the trucker left, Barb whistled at Double-Dee and pointed to her lipstick-stained coffee mug. "Mind topping me off, Sugar, story's getting good and I'm remembering how old I am, need a jolt." As Double-Dee obliged her, she set her book down and looked him over. "You know, this town's dead as Tombstone and yet here you are slaving over an empty store." She took out a small compact and checked that her hair, grey with dyed black streaks, was still tied back and nothing was out of place. "Handsome, hardworking boy like you should be out making trouble, breaking girl's hearts; don't you have some doe-eyed cheerleader fawning after you somewhere?"

Double-Dee blushed and replaced the pot of coffee. "Yes, well, I'm set to graduate soon, and degrees sadly don't pay for themselves, Mrs. Sebastopol."

"Baby Doll, it's Barb, Just Barb."

"Mother told me to always refer to adults with respectful titles."

"Well I'm not your mother and I'm not royalty so just call me Barb."

Double-Dee sat at a stool near the end of the counter closest to Barb and smiled. "Alright, 'Barb'."

"See, wasn't so hard, not like your momma's gonna come through the door over there and start beating you with a wooden spoon or nothing."

"A very colorful scenario, 'Barb'."

Barbara pushed her winged-frame glasses up her nose, "You still didn't answer my question."

Again Double-Dee blushed and he gave a nervous laugh in response. "W-well, ah, I suppose I haven't… found the… right person."

"Gotta take time for romance, Darling. That's how I met my James." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her heavily tattooed arms. "Met him while he was on Liberty in San Francisco, Fleet Week, I was working at a diner called Pinecrest. He was with some of his buddies and at the border of drunk, saying he was the 'responsible one.' He was five-six, barely came to my chin, but he was all muscle, with hands like baseball mitts and a face like Gene Kelly. And that uniform, woof. Asked me out as he was carrying one of his buddies to the Cab."

The shop's door rung as it opened, ripping Double-Dee away from San Francisco, Pinecrest Diner, and the diminutive but immensely attractive Mr. Sebastopol. Kevin, dressed in a mechanic's coverall and his signature cap, halted a few steps in and seemed as though he suddenly wanted to leave. He'd come with the specific coal of 'casually' running into the dork, making as much small talk as possible with the dork, and being as close as possible to the dork. And now, he felt the urge to sprint home, and get as far away as possible from the dork.

"Oh hello, Kevin, forgive me I was hearing the most wonderful story."

Barb stood and drained her coffee in one big swig, inhaling sharply through her teeth afterwards, "Stuff's cold. My own damn fault." She pinched Double-Dee's cheek and gathered her things. "Should be getting back to work, stop bothering you with my memories." When she saw the disappointment on his face she checked her watch. "It's a slow day anyways, maybe I'll close up the shop and come bore you with the rest in an hour or so, how's that?"

"Please, 'Barb', I do not wish you to inconvenience yourself just for the sake of my curiosity."

"I own the damn place, nothing inconvenient about it." With that she took her leave, stopping at Kevin to give him a friendly punch in the arm. "And you, when are you coming back to finish up your work, eh?"

Kevin was glad it was the summer, that he was in a thick coverall, and that he'd just walked a half mile on a whim, because his new nervous sweat was easily masked by all the exertion. "Yeah, hah, great to see you too, Barb."

Barb gave him a quizzical look, then licked her thumb and wiped away a smudge of grease on his cheek. "Take a shower at some point today, Red."

And with that, Barb, Just Barb, made her exit, leaving the two with only open air and a cabinet full of doughnuts between them.

"Coffee!" Kevin blurted out, aware he sounded like he was trying to talk over someone. It was possibly his own thoughts both encouraging and dissuading him to do something, damnit.

Double-Dee jumped at the near-order and crossed to the machines, fretting and fumbling over the cups. "What size, wh-what kind?"

"Coffee?" His brain was screaming at him.

"Yes, Kevin, what kind, what size?"

"Hot… Hot Coffee. Sm... Medium."

Double-Dee calmed slightly, recovering from the surprise. "Is house blend fine?"

"House. Fine, finefinefine." His brain had stopped screaming because it was dead.

Double-Dee went about pouring a medium house coffee utilizing a set of hydraulic arms and claws that quickly, safely, and efficiently delivered the steaming-hot drink straight to Kevin, an accordion-style arm presenting it. "That'll be two dollars and fifty cents, please."

Kevin fumbled one-handed with his wallet and deftly dropped it to the floor as he pulled out a five. He stood there, coffee in one hand, bill in the other. Double-Dee cautiously walked around the counter and stooped to get Kevin's wallet. Kevin's body finally made some kind of connection to his mind and he stooped after as well, his chin meeting the back of the ravenette's head.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, dude!"

Kevin instinctively brought his hands down to pull Double-Dee up, and accomplished slapping the other teen in the face with a five-dollar bill and spilling half of his piping-hot coffee on him as well. Double-Dee stood up abruptly and this time it was his head in the role of attacker, slamming Kevin's mouth shut with a loud CLACK as his teeth became reacquainted. Kevin was knocked off balance and fell backwards, causing him to grab at the air with his now empty hand, snagging Double-Dee's beanie. Double-Dee, with lightning reflexes, grabbed onto his hat and held for dear life, being pulled along, then down, with Kevin.

The two came to rest a coffee, grease and sweat-stained pile. Double-Dee's head was resting on Kevin's chest, and Kevin was holding onto the other boy like they'd just finished making love.

"You, uhm… you okay, Double Dweeb?" 'Yes, good, save face insult him AND ask after his well-being' his inner voice hissed.

"This has been a rather…" Double-Dee rose slightly and shifted into a sitting position, straddling Kevin, his hair disheveled and emerging from under his now wet hat, "… Interesting encounter."

Kevin felt blood rushing back to the brain in his head, as well as his other brain just below the waist. He heard the bell on the door ring and craned his head to see who had entered to witness his shame.

"You know it's against company policy to bang in the store on the clock, right?" Lee Kanker stepped over Kevin and made her way to the rear of the store, calling over her shoulder, "Double-Dee, clean that up will ya, I'm going to change."

Double-Dee looked at his watch, then at his coffee-stained clothes, and the coffee-stained floor, and the coffee-stained redhead he was mounted on. "Messy, messy, messy, these stains will be aggravating to remove." He stood and cautiously leaned over the counter to press a button, summoning a robot that looked like a filing cabinet crossed with a mop bucket that set about cleaning the ground, letting out an annoyed beep each time it found the way obstructed by a still prostrate Kevin. "Please get off the floor, Kevin, it's very dirty, then again I suppose you're rather messy yourself." He extended his hand.

Whatever mix of bravado, sheepishness, and utter stupidity had previously been rattling around inside him was gone, and now Kevin, neutral and defeated, took the offered hand and rose.

"Thanks for the Coffee." Kevin turned on his heel like the failed JROTC cadet he was and strode out, breaking into a dead sprint the minute his foot hit the sidewalk.

Lee came back and took a seat behind the counter, flipping through a Playgirl magazine and putting in headphones. "He had a hard-on."

Double-Dee spun around, his face turning crimson. "Excuse me!?"

Lee ripped out one of the pages and stuffed it in her bra, "Kevin, rock hard."

Double-Dee was speechless. He attempted some kind of response, smoothed out his soaked apron, tucked his loose, wet hair back under his hat, composed himself, and strode towards the rear of the store.

"Be proud, it's a compliment" she called after him, tearing another photo of a near-nude man out and putting him with his compatriot.

Meanwhile, Kevin, winded and his heart thudding in his ears, was about to turn back into the cul de sac when he tripped and gorilla-rolled across the sidewalk, coming to rest on his back. He laid there, staring up into the sun, wishing for it to burn him to a crisp, when a familiar face came into view.

"Kevin, why are you splayed like a fresh pelt on a tanning board, and why do you smell of a Peruvian/Chilean blend?"

"Rolf, bro, I couldn't tell you to save my life." He was pained at the truth in that. He was barely able to contemplate or come to terms with his own feelings, let alone begin to try and play out other people's reactions to them. "I just… I got it bad for someone."

"It? Bad? What, Worms? Rolf has cure for this pestilential malady! Come, we'll ferment some of Victor's milk and pickle a dozen of Gertrude's eggs, you'll be purged and fit enough to harvest an entire field in no time!" Rolf lifted Kevin up bodily and placed him on his feet. "You do not seem as though you are bothered by things which creep and crawl on your insides, tell Rolf your worry so that he may tailor a solution."

"I like someone, dude." It might have been the need to tell someone something, even if it wasn't everything; it might have been the dizziness from getting hit in and falling onto his head consecutively in the span of a few minutes; or it might have been the loneliness that went hand in hand with his recent thoughts, but he let fly. "I don't know why, or, I think I know why, but I don't know what to do, how to do it, you know what I mean?"

"No, Rolf does not understand this."

Kevin let out a sigh. "Forget it, man."

"Rolf does not understand this 'not knowing', this 'why.' If you feel the rustlings of the undergrowth of your heart you do not turn and run like some child without hair on their chest; you declare yourself to your desired, you build a home for them, and plant many a fertile seed so as to leave no doubt of your prowess and virility."

Kevin felt a second wind in him, his friend's words echoing in his head. "I don't know about the planting seeds and whatever but yeah, YEAH, that's what I'm gonna do."

"Ensuring a bountiful harvest is important to courtship, flat-end-of-bread Kevin, now you are saying things that Rolf cannot approve of."

Kevin embraced his friend and took off running back towards Java Hut.

"If you do have worms tell Rolf, he already has the milk and eggs!"

Back at the shop, Barb was engaged in commentary of the men in the magazine with Lee, Double-Dee emerging from the back clean and dry.

"There you are, I thought you'd changed your mind and taken off to avoid my story."

Double-Dee chuckled, feeling refreshed after he'd utilized his patented solo-shower kit. "I wouldn't miss the conclusion of your story for anything, 'Barb'"

"Oooh, juicy gossip?" Lee leaned towards Barb expectantly, Double-Dee sitting beside her at a respectful distance.

"Just talking about my James."

"I remember him, short guy, like my Eddy."

Barb sighed and nodded, reached into her purse and pulled out a much-loved photograph in a cloudy, plastic sleeve. She pulled the photo out and held it so they could see. Barb was young, thin, and naked, a yellow sundress thrown over her shoulder. Double-Dee blushed, Lee whistled. Besides her was a stocky, muscular man with his arms crossed and wearing only a smile, his impressive equipment on proud display. Double-Dee giggled nervously, and Lee nodded in approval. While Barb's skin was an empty canvas, James was a mosaic of Marine iconography, Catholic imagery and more than a couple Japanese geishas in demure and lewd poses.

"He gave me my first ink, our second date." She lifted her arm so they could see her armpit, a wide-hipped hula girl winking back at them. It had clearly gotten a few touch ups over the years, the most well-cared for tattoo out of her many. "The photo's from our first date, Baker Beach. He left for Vietnam a few days later and swore he'd kill anyone and anything to get back to me, even 'the poor bastard who makes the mistake of marrying you before me.' He was a romantic."

"Marriage, after a couple of dates?" Double-Dee was amazed.

"Did you not see what he was packing? I'd have married him on the spot." Lee let out a lecherous laugh and high-fived Barb.

Barb wiped away a tear, smiling at her photograph and other fond memories. "You just know. It's corny, it's old fashioned, but, we did, and so I think anyone can. Plus, he came back in one piece, so I knew he'd be tougher than anything that came our way."

"What happened to Mr. Sebasto… James?" Double-Dee winced as Lee smacked his shoulder.

"Cancer. Had to be something that mean to take my James down. The only thing he couldn't beat with his bare hands." Barb laughed and wiped her eyes again. "No I don't dwell on that. I had him, he was mine, not everyone gets that chance, that blessing."

The door to the shop didn't open so much as it exploded inward, the bell snapping loose as it rung. Kevin stumbled in, soaked to the waist in sweat, coffee stains still on him. Everyone in the shop stared at Kevin, but he only had eyes for, and on, Double-Dee.

"Kevin, you're in even shoddier a state than when you left, what happened!?" Double-Dee sprung from his seat and moved to Kevin, putting his hands on his shoulders and meeting his gaze, assessing him for heat injuries.

"Plant… fffffertile… seeeehhuuuuh." He didn't fall into Double-Dee's arms so much as collapsed into them, then onto him.

"Oh dear, not again." There was no helping it, the pair fell to the ground. "Some assistance, please?"

READ FULL STORY IN SEQUENCE HERE

#kevedd #fanfiction #slshfiction #ship #writting #prose

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nish-s-random-writing · 5 years

Text

Growing Up (5/?)

Chapter 5! USUK Cardverse AU!

(a/n): This took a bit longer than expected, but heyyy, I’m gettin to that good stuff.

ff.net || <<ch 4 ch6>>

------

“Hey, Arthur, can I ask you something?”

It was nighttime now, and Alfred was not surprised to find Arthur sitting on his own bed by lamplight, a thick book in his hands and all his attention focused in between. A tiny twitch of an impressive eyebrow was the only signal that he’d acknowledged Alfred’s presence, albeit in a manner that was far from pleased.

Hopping onto the foot of Arthur’s extremely large bed, Alfred repeated his question. With a sigh and deliberate lowering of his book, Arthur grumbled out a reluctant, “Fine.”

Alfred had not seen Arthur during lunch that day, the latter having requested that his food be brought into the library so he could continue his reading and exploration of its collection without interruption. When Alfred tried to visit him afterwards, he was given the cold shoulder until the young king retreated back to the winding hallways of the palace, left to juggle doorknobs all afternoon. When the sun was low in the sky he made a round trip back to the secret garden where he met the old man, who he now knew as Reece the gardener, and conversed with him until dinnertime.

Now he had Arthur sitting several feet away from him, both on a large bed that could fit ten orphans, while he read a book in an attempt to ignore Alfred as much as possible.

“What’s your favorite flower?” Came Alfred’s voice. Arthur seemed to startle and lower his book even more, although his eyes never looked up.

“Why would you ask such a question?” He said with the usual scowl.

Alfred shrugged. “I was in the gardens today, and I didn’t see too much flowers. That just got me wondering what sort of flowers you like.”

“The gardens hmm?” Arthur muttered as he flipped a page. “Were there any roses out there?”

Alfred lit up at that. “Roses? I didn’t see any. Are those your favorite flowers?”

Arthur seemed to hesitate at that, drawing out a long silence, until finally he nodded in that slow, unsteady way. “I suppose so.” And as he said it, without even looking up, the young queen could already feel the physical embodiment of childish glee lighting up as an impossibly wide grin on Alfred’s face.

“Well I think it would be awesome if we had roses in the gardens,” said Alfred in a vain attempt at a casual tone. “I wonder if they could make roses in all sorts of colors! We could have blue roses, they might like that; it could go along with all the blue decorations in this palace!”

“I don’t think those exist, Alfred.”

“Maybe we can have some made! After all, we are the ki—um, I mean,” Alfred furrowed his brows. He’d caught himself in time. “I mean, Yao told me if we had a request he’d look into it! Maybe they actually did find a way to make blue roses.” He tried for a laugh, but Arthur seemed unimpressed. He had made no acknowledgement of Alfred’s words and kept on ‘reading’.

“I explored the gardens today,” said Alfred again.

“You already told me that.”

“Well, what did you do? Were you reading that same book all day?”

“No, I was not. I’ve finished two others earlier.”

“Woah! You’re a fast reader. That thing would’ve taken me like, a month to finish!”

Arthur raised a brow. “Makes sense, I suppose, if it’s you we’re talking about.”

Alfred snorted. “Well you probably had a lot of practice so that’s no fair. Miss Amelia usually reads the books to us. You’ve probably read a lot of books on your own.”

“Well, I suppose I have.”

“Woah, did your old orphanage have a huge library too?”

“No. In fact, it was rather similar to Miss Amelia’s. My home had a small collection that my father used to add to.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows at that. “You remember your home?”

Arthur squinted at his book, holding it up a bit more over his face. “I wasn’t in the orphanage that long.”

“What happened? Did your house burn down? Was there an accident?”

Arthur didn’t respond. He held the book closer to his face.

“Arthur?” Alfred tried to prompt him, but it was clear that the older boy was closed off for the night. Alfred made a mental note to add ‘family’ to the list of things he should never mention around Arthur, alongside being king and queen, as he made his way over to his own bed.

OOOOOOOOOO

The classes began a week later. Three kind teachers a day sat them down in the library for a few hours, teaching them history, and arithmetic, and sciences. Arthur was quiet most of the time, but he’d be able to answer any question their teachers shot at them. Alfred was vocal; he tried to answer as best as possible and steer any lectures away into an off-topic story from the teacher’s life, because he found those more interesting.

They’d have lunchtime and the afternoon to play. Then they met up with Captain Herdevary, who initiated little games and races. Arthur wasn’t one to care and tended to idly run the laps as Alfred tried, and failed, to awaken his competitive spirit.

It would be like that for five days, and then they were free to explore as they pleased on the weekends. Arthur would coop himself up in the library and draw, write, or read. He always became hostile whenever Alfred got more insistent on him joining his exploration. Nevertheless, Alfred tried every day.

By himself, he’d walk down hallways he was unfamiliar with until he’d wind up at some ominous locked door or dusty broom closet. He’d walked into a few lavish bedrooms whose furniture were covered in immaculate white sheets. He ogled at the various tapestries that depicted royalty and war, often wishing Yao would be there to explain them to him.

He had visited the kitchens and befriended the sparse servants and cooks who worked there. He’d found the smithies where he found busy, burly men working with glowing hot metal and splintery woodwork. He’d also visit Reece and converse with him about the gardens and the old monarchy, about the stars and the sunset and whatever the old man would endure. Sometimes he was like Arthur, Alfred thought. Reece would be impatient and irritated if Alfred bothered him while he was working on a cluster of weeds, perhaps, or a bush or a stalk, but would eventually open himself to a bout of conversation. Sometimes, he’d laugh, and quite heartily at that.

Then, Alfred thought, maybe Reece wasn’t like Arthur. Maybe Arthur was like Reece. Maybe Arthur was like a grouchy old man who just needed to be spoken to even if he never talked back.

So, every night, when Alfred returns from his after-dinner explorations, he’d sit down at the foot of Arthur’s bed while the older boy read his novels. He’d talk and talk about what he’d seen that day. He’d talk about the extremely kind cooks who gave him desserts, to the heat of the smithies, of the fresh breeze in the gardens, of the tapestries and ornately carved doors and wide open windows and seemingly secret passages that wound themselves throughout the palace.

Arthur would never really look up at him in his pretense of ignorance. And Alfred would’ve bought it if Arthur wouldn’t snort at his misuse of a word, or supply a name to an interesting object Alfred would describe, or call him an idiot whenever he mentioned tripping on a rug or getting hurt otherwise. Sometimes, he’d even laugh.

And even if those instances would be called Arthur’s selective hearing, Alfred never failed to notice how frequently it had become when Arthur would ‘read’ with the book upside down in his hands. And when the book was upright, he never seemed to turn a page.

Weeks went by like this, and Alfred reveled in Arthur’s not-so-discreetly hidden attention at his tales of the palace. Although, Alfred had come to wonder why it is Arthur would never want to explore the place himself.

One night, three months after they had arrived at the palace, Alfred dared to voice out his question.

“Hey, Arthur, how come you never want to explore the place yourself?”

Arthur snorted. “What gave you the idea that I would want to do that?”

Alfred stared at the upside down cover of the book in the older boy’s hands. “Well, a few things,” He mumbled. “I don’t know. You like the place, don’t you? You call the gardens I talk about pretty, you say that the tapestries are interesting. Wouldn’t you want to see for yourself?”

Arthur hesitated, but his attention was still clearly not on his book. “I would,” he said carefully. “I would think them a, well, pleasing sight. But I’d hate to look at them thinking that I own them.”

Alfred tilted his head. “But it’s not like you own them, right?”

Arthur let out an exasperated huff. “We own them, Alfred. Our home, our place, our stuff, as Yao said. What do you think makes all of this our stuff?”

“Well, we’re the k—oh.” Alfred blinked. “Oh.”

Arthur glared at him over the top—or perhaps bottom—of his book. “Yeah. Oh.”

So that was it, then. The palace, everything—it’s another reminder to Arthur.

“Aren’t you happy about technically owning the library, though?”

Arthur seemed to pause again, but then shook his head. “I’m happy knowing it’s something I’ll use, anyway.”

Alfred didn’t really get that. Heck, he didn’t completely get anything Arthur said or did, but as long as he knew what not to mention, he felt that he would be a few steps closer to winning the other boy over.

OOOOOOOOOO

The next day was the sixth breakfast Yao had been late for. He showed up with his coat sloppily slipped on, bags deep under his eyes, and he was practically dragging himself towards the table. Even Arthur was sporting an expression of concern.

As Yao walked through the doors, three guards followed him and took up position at the entrance. After the Jack had slumped into his chair and began wearily scooping up porridge, Arthur spoke.

“Yao? Are you quite alright?”

“Yeah, dude, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

Yao gave Alfred a sidelong grin. “You’re not that far off, kid.” He chuckled lightly and began to eat his food, whereas the boys were nearly finished with theirs. “But don’t worry about me. It’s just that, well, tensions have been rising for the past few days now—but you needn’t concern yourselves! Things have just been busy.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. “Tensions? What sort of—?”

“Yao!” Interrupted a familiar cry from the doorway. Captain Herdevary was there, hair tied in a ponytail and half-dressed in leather armor, taking a few long strides into the room. “Yao, I need you at the Hall now.”

Yao looked rather dejected, but gave the two young monarchs a weary smile then he took his final gulp of orange juice, before getting up and following the captain of the guard. Elizabeta only had time to flash the boys a slightly forced smile before disappearing beyond the doorway.

Across the table, Alfred shared a worried look with Arthur, and they finished their meals in silence.

OOOOOOOOOO

The next day, things seemed a bit off around the palace.

Alfred and Arthur woke up to two guards posted by their door, both regarding them with solemn nods as they headed off to breakfast. Yao wasn’t with them at breakfast and neither was he there at lunch. At both times, a set of guards were posted in and out the doors, as well as trickled throughout the hallways.

When Alfred tried leaving through the front doors of the palace for the gardens, the guards posted there—who wore heavier metal armor and carried a greater set of weapons—forbade Alfred from leaving the immediate courtyard, whose gates were also generously guarded. The young king attempted to amuse himself by splashing around in the marble fountain, but that quickly became boring.

He went to see Arthur but was surprised to find guards by the library door too. When he sought out his other routes to the gardens, he’d found the doors to those were guarded as well and was forbidden from leaving.

Finally, Alfred found an exit that wasn’t guarded. The passage to the king and queen’s private garden must have been so far behind the palace and lost in the inner maze of the outer gardens that whoever was posting the guards didn’t see it necessary to have them there.

Alfred found Reece and was relieved to finally be entertained. They began speaking of the flowers again, beginning with their daily discussions of Alfred’s gardening plans and winding up somewhere obscure like the evolution of horses. Eventually, the young king talked to Reece about the guards.

“It’s weird. They’re everywhere! I can’t take a shower or get some bread without passing like, fifty guards!” Alfred exclaimed.

Seeing the young boy’s wild grin, the gardener decided to take that statement with a grain of salt and regarded him with raised eyebrows. “Oh? Come now, mayhaps your Jack’s just been increasin’ them guards for your sake! You seem to be a rowdy young’un and he might think you to set the place on fire with all yer runnin’ about.”

Alfred scrunched his face in an attempt to look offended, but ended up with a mix of furrowed eyebrows and a half-suppressed grin. “Please, I don’t go running around with a match!” Alfred giggled. “But really, I can’t even go out around the gardens. I only got here because those doors were the only ones without guards. All the side entrances—heck, even the front doors! They’ve all got guards carrying swords with them. What if we’re under attack?”

Reece hummed thoughtfully as he worked on trimming his bush. “Maybe your jack’s just bein’ extra secure, eh? After the last monarchy were killed he’d never been quite the same. Maybe he’s just been takin’ precautions for your sake, lad. Nothin’ to worry about.”

Alfred mimicked his thoughtful hum and planted his rump on the grass. “I guess so,” he muttered with furrowed brows. “Still. I feel kinda caged in. The guards being all around are giving me a bad feeling.”

OOOOOOOOOO

“Alfred?”

The young king jumps. Upon walking into his shared room, he was surprised to have his companion speak to him first.

“Yeah?” Alfred responds, taking his usual seat at the foot of Arthur’s bed. Arthur, meanwhile, has his book open on the mattress and he stares at it with hands folded in his lap.

“Yao wasn’t at dinner today,” Arthur muses.

“Or lunch.” Alfred nods.

Arthur clearly isn’t staring at his book any longer, instead picking idly at the sheets. Alfred waits for him to say something, and when he finally does, it’s in a hoarse, strangled voice that shook with something that was almost like fear.

“Are we in danger?” Arthur whispered, eyes lowered. “Yao’s been talking about tensions rising. Are we… Do you think we’re about to head into war?”

Alfred’s brows furrowed, and he instinctively inched closer to the other boy. “W-well, maybe Yao’s just adding guards up to be secure, because, you know, we’re kids. Maybe he just wants us to be extra safe. I mean, I don’t think we’re in danger, you know. I’ve been talking to Reece—the gardener I told you about—and he says Yao really cared about the last king and queen. He’s just adding extra protection ‘cuz he cares about us too!”

Alfred offered his brightest smile and got a nervous glance in return. In the candlelight, Arthur’s eyes were wide and unsure, that pretty forest-green flickering with a warm gold. In an instant those eyes weren’t pointed at him anymore, and were instead staring out the windows, up at the silver glow of the moon over the gardens. He seemed concentrated, contemplative, like he was deciding something in his head.

Then Arthur sighed, and closed his eyes, shoulders sagging. “You know, Alfred…”

Arthur trailed off at the distant sound of breaking glass that came from down the hall. There were footsteps, loud and rushed, as though the guards at their door were running away. Then, there was a short, distant yell, almost a cry that was immediately cut off by what sounded like a loud thud.

Arthur was frozen and Alfred was right next to him, clutching his arm in his childlike grip.

And then all was quiet.

#usuk #fanfiction #fanfic #hetalia #cardverse au #usuk fanfic #ukus #usukus #arthur kirkland #alfred f. jones #aph america #aph england #usuk cardverse #my writing #nish-s-random-writing #fic update

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iwillgiveyoumyhappiness · 5 years

Text

김병관, Kim Byeongkwan

anonymous asked:

Since my feet are killing me (I hate ugh heels) I'd love to make a request. Something extremely fluffy, today I'm in the mood for sweetness. Bestfriends!Au where Byeongkwan from A.C.E. shows up at her best friend's date (he somehow knew the guy wouldn't show up) and makes her spend the funniest day of her life. If you can, of course, otherwise don't worry! Hope your day is going smoothly. -Saturn

Group: A.C.E. (에이스)

Member: Kim Byeongkwan (...in case you didn’t realize)

She tapped her freshly painted fingernails impatiently against the silk tablecloth. She checked her phone again, a paranoid habit of hers for the past hour and a half.

“7:30...” she muttered. With a click of her tongue, she tossed her phone down with a clatter. “That jerk.”

She looked down at her sparkling dress with a certain amount of disdain. Here she was, all prettied up at some fancy restaurant for someone that wouldn’t even show.

“Did he ditch you?” a voice asked.

She didn’t even jump. The voice was all too familiar to her.

“How did you get here, Byeongkwan?” she asked, a small sigh fallowing straight after. She turned in her chair to look at him. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the high-end restaurant, fitted in nothing but ripped jeans, an over-sized tee-shirt, a beanie and a single earring in one ear.

He shrugged, an easy smile resting on his lips. “Stalked you here,” he said casually. He sat himself down across from her with a huff. “I told you not to date that jerk,” he said, resting his chin against his palm. “I said that it’d only end in tears.”

She crossed her arms contrarily. “He might still show up.”

He quirked a brow. “He’s two hours late. He’s not coming, buddy.”

Slowly, her gaze softened. She sighed, “I know... I know he’s not coming.” She hid her face in her hands, hitting her forehead a few times. “God, I feel so stupid. You warned me about him!”

He chuckled. “We all have to rebel against our best friends at some point, I guess.” He leaned over the table and took a sip from her wine glass, ending with a satisfied breath of air, followed by a lip-smack. “Well, screw him!” he said loudly, turning a few heads. “He might not have shown up, but the night’s still young.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows. “What’re you planning?” she asked suspiciously.

“Literally nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Tonight’s a night for spontaneous behavior. I mean, look at you!” He pointed to her with an over-the-top gesture. “You’ve got on the best fitting dress from the deepest recesses of the closet, your hair’s all done up, you’re wearing heels, even though you always complain about how much they suck—you even pulled out the red lipstick!”

He gave a pointed look to the bold shade, knowing that she only wore it for special occasions. She must’ve been really looking forward to it. “You look like a million bucks, dude,” he said, softer than before. “So that’s why I insist you go on a friend-date with me tonight. We’ll stay out until you don’t even remember that asshole’s name.”

A smile had been slowly creeping across her scarlet lips, finally blooming into fullness at his suggestion. “That sounds...” She chuckled a little. “Really good,” she said. “It sounds really, really good. We haven’t done anything like that for years.”

He nodded, his smile mirroring hers. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But what if someone recognizes you?”

An impish fire lit in his gaze. “Then we run.”

The fire lit in her, too. She stood up and grabbed her purse. “Where to first, then?”

He thought for a moment. “McDonald’s?” he suggested.

She snorted. “I’m a little over-dressed for McDonald’s, don’t you think?”

“Then we’ll make a pit-stop first.”

“When you said we’d make a pit-stop,” she started, “I didn’t think you meant that we’d be renting you a tux.”

He adjusted his tie cockily. “You said you felt over-dressed.”

“So you decided to make both of us over-dressed?” she scoffed, the smile pulling at the corner of her lips not going unnoticed by him.

He held the door with the yellow ‘M’ open for her, flicking her forehead as she walked past him. “Hey, I’ve gotta have my bestie’s back.”

She chortled and rubbed her forehead. “You’re an idiot.”

“Takes one to know one,” he teased with a smirk.

She groaned. “Ass.”

“Jerk,” he countered. They both looked at each other before busting out laughing, drawing the attention of the employees and the few customers scattered around. “Madame!” he called to the cashier.

She covered her face, already feeling the red creeping up her neck. “Oh my gosh,” she said, reaching out blindly to try and hit him with her purse. “Shut up! You’re so embarrassing!”

He ignored her. “I require your finest table! One suitable for royalty!”

“I hate you!” she laughed, trying to keep her voice down.

The cashier giggled at the sight, partly out of embarrassment, partly out of fondness. “Right in the back, sir,” she said, pointing out the way. “There’s a big window where you can see the cars pass by.” She winked at them. “Fit for royalty.”

So, there they sat in a McDonald’s at 9:00 on a Wednesday night, her dressed up in a sparkly, eggplant-colored dress, her clavicle draped in a lovely pearl necklace, and him in a dapper tux. He had refused to take his beanie off, though. They sat right next to the window, counting all the white cars that drove by.

“People are gonna think we’re dating,” she said after they’d counted 12 white cars and gotten their food delivered to them. She took a big, unladylike bite out of her burger, a sliver of pickle sticking to her chin. “I blame you for that.”

He shrugged. “Eh, let ‘em think what they want,” he said. He reached out his fist, a sign for them to initiate their secret handshake. “We know the truth, bub.”

She finished the handshake expertly. “That we do, bub,” she beamed.

“By the way,” he started, “might wanna get the veg off your chin.”

That night was more than memorable, and she’d never been so grateful for being stood up on a date. Her friend was worth more than that jerk could ever mean. Kim Byeongkwan meant an evening spent late-night-eating, running through quiet parks, playing on old swing-sets and sharing an ice cream sundae at around 4 AM.

That night... It was beautiful. It was very Byeongkwan, and he was right.

You didn’t remember that jerk’s name.

We all need a best friend like Byeongkwan, let’s be honest. Can I have one? Please?? I’LL BE GOOD, I PROMISE-

Ahem... Sorry about that.

For My Saturn:

I hope this makes you feel really soft and inspires some spontaneous nature in your heart. I hope that you do things you wouldn’t normally do and have a lot of fun, filled to the brim with confidence! I hope this short little story gave you the warmth of the Southern Cross.

Only walk on flowery, starry paths, my Saturn.

#ace #a.c.e #a.c.e byeongkwan #kim byeongkwan #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop angst #for anon #for saturn #stop sleeping on talent #stop sleeping on him

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

Text

Survey #206

“have you ever wished for death and prayed all night for your last breath?”

Do you always read the book before you see a movie based on a book? No. When you’re out with friends, do they ever encourage you to spend money you should be saving? 1.) I don't hang out w/ anyone now, 2.) but even when I did, they all knew I didn't make money. Is there anything you’re trying to save up money for? What? Perpetually tattoos, I want a PS4 super badly to play a novel of games I've been dying to play (SotC and Spyro trilogy remaster, I'm @ing you so hard), I need a car soon as I plan to at least try and get my license in the near future, I'd love to always have enough to immediately go to Sara's in case of an emergency, a trip to South Africa... but those are gonna take a good while to complete. I have my priorities straight for when I get a job. Have you ever watched a movie you didn’t really want to see just because a friend asked you to? Yeah. Did you end up liking the movie, anyway? There's been many cases of the above situation, so I'm sure in some instances I have. Heard any great songs for the first time lately? What songs? Hmmm, quite a number. "Radio" by Rammstein is great, and I love "bury a friend" and "bad guy" by Billie Eilish. What is your favorite urban legend? m o t h m a n and the joysey devil. Probably top two. GAH I love so many though????????????? Like Skinwalkers?????????????? And WENDIGOS????????? Have you seen all the cool shit?????????????? Do you remember the last nightmare you had? What was it? No, thankfully. Have you ever hopped on any bandwagons? HAHA. Freshman year, high school... I "liked" screamo or alternative-type bands I'd barely ever listened to or even enjoyed to fit in with the emos aldkjfalkwejr. Are you an elitist (even a little bit) when it comes to anything? What? Definitely not a complete one, but I can get pretty annoyed if in WoW we're in a heroic dungeon and people don't know the mechanics you should have already learned + read new ones that're right there in the goddamn journal laksdjfaoweir and then some people just totally ignore your advice and alskdjfwleiruwqoeif x2. Then again I've been that confused asshole in a couple raiding situations BUT LOOK they're harder and I had too much to catch up on okay. Still no excuse by WHATEVER. Have elitists on a fansite ever intimidated or talked down to you? I don't believe so. Is there anything you swear you will never do again? A few things with certainty. How late do you usually stay awake? I can literally go to bed as early as 7 to as late as 11 or rarely later. I do NOT have a schedule. Started months ago, and at first it frustrated and stressed me out quite a bit, but by now, I've just accepted it for me. Do you have pets? If so, how did you choose their names? Teddy: sister named him, but I'm sure it was the "cute as a teddy bear" type thing; Bentley: no clue; Roman: it sounded majestic, cats are majestic; Venus: pretty, and her coloration is similar to the planet; Kaiju: totally badass for an iguana that's gonna grow to be a big 'ole scaly boy; and Mitsu: I had a theme of giving my rats cutesy "M" names. Do you ever buy special treats for your pets? Occasionally. Is just being fond of something enough, or does it take more than that to be a ‘real fan’? Did a middle school student write this? If you're pretty fond of something, there you go, you're a fan. Sure, some are more intense, but that doesn't make the more casual ones not "real." What type of fabric is most comfortable for clothing? Idk, I don't pay attention. If you wear one – bras with or without a wire? Christ, without. If you wear one – are you able to find cute bras in your size? HA. No. It is RARE I'll find a cute one, and that's always only online. Make pretty ones for plus-sized women a normal find, jfc. Idk why, but I am very picky with bras. Like good fucking luck seeing me without a shirt, so like,,,, why do I bother????? What length do you like your shorts to be? UM you will NOT see me in SHORTS. Have you ever cut off jeans or other pants and made them into shorts? Perhaps Mom has when I was a kid? But I have no memory of this ever happening. Have you cut the sleeves out of T-shirts to make tank tops? I don't think so. Have you ever modified a piece of clothing and hated how it turned out? ^ What was the last disappointing movie you saw? Ah jeez, what's the last time I even watched one. Idk. What was the last disappointing book you read? And I haven't read a book in even longer. Is there anything you’re really excited about? JOB. OPPORTUNITIES. Do you ever watch compilation videos? Of what? Vines, like shit dude. I can go on massive binges. What was the last thing you rolled your eyes about? I don't recall. What would you consider the greatest song ever recorded? Why? Yeesh, that's a big thing to decide. I recently discovered "A Reason to Fight" by Disturbed though, and it is. Incredible. Just read the lyrics to refresh my mind, and yeah, goosebumps. Do you like Hellboy? If so, do you prefer the old movies or the new one? Never seen any. Favorite Disney character who isn’t royalty? Dory, probably. But man, there's too many to choose from. Last thing you purchased just for fun? *shrugs* Do you even like behind-the-scenes stuff or does it ruin the magic for you? IF I'm real into the product, I love that stuff!! I've seen like every little BTS Silent Hill thing there is, probably, multiple hours' worth. What is your favorite thing about Mac computers? They're small and lightweight. What is your favorite thing about PCs? They generally hold much more memory. What are some errands you need to run soon? I don't have "errands" yet. Have your parents ever tried to convince people there was something wrong with you, when their “diagnosis” wasn’t accurate? No. List 3 of your best memories, times you wish you could go back and repeat. In no order, just as they come to me: 1.) First hug with Sara when we met at the airport; 2.) THE LOOK ON SARA'S FACE when she saw me in her room on her birthday (probably fave memory of all time, actually); 3.) seeing meerkats for the first time at the zoo. Ohhhh or maybe the true realization I was happy without Jason. But idk, that was SUCH a gradual process where I didn't feel ecstasy in like one moment. What color was your high school graduation gown? Ew, it was this obnoxious red. The majority apparently voted for it, while I was on the navy team. Are your parents’ dreams for your life different than your own? Mom's pretty dead-set on me being a vet, but she doesn't try to push me into it or anything. I know she just wants happiness for me. I haven't got a clue about Dad. Have your dreams for your life changed? Of course. What are your dreams now? HAPPY, stable job that I thoroughly enjoy, well-off financially (I don't aim to be rich, just "safe," you could say), healthy marriage, own my own home, travel to a few places, did y'all think I was gonna forget "meet Mark???"... stuff like that. What was your dream as a child? It changed plenty of times, but my earliest goal was to be a paleontologist. Do you feel safe in your country? Sure, I guess. Safer than most places. If applicable, do you feel safe at your school? N/A Would you ever want to learn sign language? It'd be cool, sure, but it's not something I'm interested in pursuing. How many meals do you eat a day? 2-3. Sometimes just one "real" meal. Do you own any succulents? No. What color are your walls? A hideous puke green. Why. What color were the walls in the bedroom you grew up in? I don't remember at all. What was the last song you listened to on repeat? "Love Falls" by HELLYEAH. What is your favorite style (or styles) of dance? Modern. Have you ever performed a solo dance in front of a crowd? No. Have you ever sung a solo? No. Which insects are you afraid of? Most, really. Do you think it’s silly to be afraid of an insect, when it’s so tiny? It depends on the insect, of course. Even if I do know what it is and it's "safe," I'll still typically freak if it surprises me. When was the last time you had a deep conversation with someone? Hmmm. Sara, I believe? What are you waiting for? Jesus FUCKING Christ on a bike a job. What do you usually feel like doing the most at home? Stuff on the laptop. What grade were you in when you had your first crush? I don't remember... For "puppy dog love," I believe maybe the 4th grade, but I may be wrong. I'd say my first *real* crush was on a guy named Sebastian in my freshman year of high school. Shit man, did a lot go down my freshman year. I'm just reminiscing and crushes jumped between like five dudes 'til Jason won. At what age did you start experiencing sexual attraction, if any? Some time in middle school, I think? Like that's when I had my first bisexuality crisis: 6th or 7th grade. Have you ever split open a rock with a hammer, to see the glitter inside? No, but FUCK I WANNA. What type of tree do you see the most of where you live? There's a pine tree outside my window. Oh, and there's a pine tree in my back yard. Oh, what's that across the road? Woods of pine trees. Where do all birds in NC live? In pine trees. What does our air smell like? Pine trees. Where is your favorite place you’ve lived? My previous home as far as location; house itself, where I am now. It's got its issues, but it's cozy and a perfect size for just two people. What states have you lived in? Just 'ole North Carolina. Take me awaaaaaaaaaaaay- Do you wish you were someone else? Sometimes. What is your favorite thing about the month in which it is now? Literally just flowers. That's it. It. Everything else can suck a legion of dicks. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Girt, Jason (if he counts), Alon, Maria... I had a few "best" ones. ^Are they still your best friends now? Girt is my closest thing to a "best friend" if you don't include my girlfriend. Do you live near the mountains? No, they're on the opposite end of the state. ;___; Do you live near a beach? We're like, two-ish hours away. What is your favorite beach that you’ve been to? Idk and idc, beaches aren't my thing. Do you collect seashells? Not seriously, but I'll keep a cool one if I find one. If you were to start a new collection, what would it be? If I was not ashamed of looking like a 23-y/o pre-teen in love with Just Bieber, I'd have more Markiplier merch than you'd fucking believe. (One of my biggest regrets in life was not buying the tasteful nudes calendar; I will eternally smite myself for being too embarrassed to have to explain why I would have that hanging above my bed rip.) If you had to pick one year and describe it as the best year of your life that you want to relive again, which year would it be? 2017 was fuckin litty titty. Is your world view the same as your parents’? In some ways with Mom, and I do know Dad and I differ on a few things. Well, if I learned more about his more political beliefs, I feel I'd probably disagree with most. What color are your glasses, if applicable? Black. Are you the person you thought you’d be when you were younger? No. Are you a confrontational person, or the peacekeeper? I'm a massive peacekeeper. I avoid confrontation like the PLAGUE. Do you like to read? Not nearly as much as I used to. Like all I ever read nowadays are RP posts as I obviously have to reply to them, but if they're long, it is common I procrastinate on reading it... ;_; Do you sleep too much or not enough? Probably too much, especially when I go to bed early. Although, I do wake up throughout the night and sometimes officially pretty early. Then some days I have a 1-2 hour nap, so that just adds to it. Who is your best friend? Sara. <3 How did you two meet? YouTube. How did you meet your current bf/gf? ^ How far away is your closest family member? Well I live with my mom, but she's at work atm. The last time you did something with BOTH of your parents was? BOY OH FUCKING BOY. My mom's the most bitter witch towards him, so even for family events, Dad usually only stops by to avoid creating a goddamn wreck, such as at birthday dinners. I think the last time they were in the same house was for my nephew's birthday half a year ago, I believe. What’s your favorite holiday? Halloween!!! Now that I have a niece and nephew who grasp the concept of Santa, Christmas is also really special to me. I don't want kids, but watching those sweethearts get so excited over their presents is magical. For me personally, the holiday has grown more and more about celebrating family, especially as we continue to branch out/go our own ways. So I guess I like the idea of Halloween better and would enjoy it more if I actually had something to do, but as far as joy goes, Christmas. Do you like pumpkin pie? I hate anything and everything pumpkin-flavored. The last time you went to the doctor, what were you there for? It was the see my psychiatrist. Do you take any medication regularly? Yeah. Is there any particular view you have on insane people? I see "insane" versus "sane" as far more of a gradient shift instead of a direct split; there're levels. I actually do legitimately think I at some juncture in the aftermath of the breakup qualified as slightly insane, yet I wasn't dangerous or entirely out of touch with reality. So if you tell me someone's actually insane, I'm going to fear them being the explosive, entirely unpredictable and loopy kind, but I know the person may be calm and somewhat stable on the outside, too. You gotta consider the severity. Do you believe in any conspiracies? 9/11 was orchestrated by the government and you cannot change my mind. I'm not totally sold on this one and lean more towards "nah" (I think), but the "we live in a simulation by a future civilization" is not that far-fetched at all if you actually look into it. It's very interesting, whether or not you're sold on it. Hell, Neil deGrasse Tyson firmly believes in it. Out of your friends, who is the funniest? Girt makes me laugh at the snap of his fingers, it seems. Anything you need to get rid of? I'm sure somewhere... Do you have any wasted talents? Animal knowledge and compassion, probably... I know I could make a fantastic rehabilitator for animals, among a plethora of other animal-related preservation and protection actions I could actively engage in. Well, I'm going back to school for zoology, but even now, I want to do more. There is a wildlife rehab place I may be able to volunteer at soon, tho! Mom's talking to a guy at work about me helping there. DAMN, livin a dream. Do you let the little things get to you? The issue could be as small as a single cell and it could still bother me. How often do you cry? Maybe once in a week, possibly longer. I don't know if you mean like really cry or just tear up/lightly cry. The latter is pretty common, but the other, not so much. Even if I want to cry, my jaw just entirely locks the hell up and I physically can't get it out. Is there anything you’re trying to prevent? I mean besides the common sense things everyone takes action to avoid, hm. I feel like there's so much, yet nothing is coming to me? Well, actually, it's usually a daily struggle to prevent at least one OCD cycle. When was the last time you were told you were cute? *shrug* When was the last time you were truly, completely happy with your life? It's been quite a while... At least over a year ago, when I began to get antsy with wanting a job and later going back to school. It just all started when I realized I was healed from the breakup and ready to move forward in life, but I wasn't. Do you miss the way things used to be between you and someone else? Multiple people. What colors has your hair been? Dirty blonde, brown, red, and purple. I've had red and purple highlights, and I naturally have blondish ones, too. I'm ready to dye it again, jfc. Most attempts are failures because my hair does NOT take color well whatsoever. It's only ever worked perfectly with the brand Splat, and my hair soaked in the dye for a LONG time before washing it out. Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? No. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? We share interest in plenty of the same bands, Mom especially. Is there any food in your bedroom? What? No. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? MY LITTLE SISTER. Haven't seen the woman in three years, but I can promise you Jason's mom still has it to a legendary degree. How expensive is too expensive for a pair of shoes? I haven't looked for shoes in so long that I don't even know the average price. What kinds of cereal are in the cupboard? Honey Nut Cheerios, normal Cheerios I think, and we have a little bit of the chocolate chunk Special K cereal left over. It's got to be stale by now (it's not even closed fully); I need to remember to toss it. What’s the last thing you spent over $10 on? Ummm I'm not sure. Over $30? I think my tongue piercing was $40? Maybe even lower? Or slightly higher?? I don't remember. Do you know who lives three houses down from you? I think so. The one time I was locked out of my house in the snow with Teddy and I waited like a fucking hour until I broke down, absolutely freezing (I was in my pajamas, dude), and walked down the road to try and get help (I needed to call my mom, obviously, and I didn't have my phone), I believe it was the third neighbor who answered. Turned out being a retired deputy who was super intimidating yet kind at the same time; he let Teddy and me stay in his house (mind you, Teddy is incontinent and didn't have his diaper on, which I warned him about) while Mom was on her way home. He gave me a jacket and some water, even when I said I was fine, but you could tell he wasn't totally sure about trusting this random, sobbing girl at his door because he asked me a thousand questions about my story and quizzed if I really did live in this area. Obviously a good cop, but after a day like that, I was just terrified of an old man who appeared a bit gruff. But thankfully Mom got there to save the day and I am forever grateful for that guy. WOW what a story for a simple question. Is there a bulletin board in your room? No. Is your mom a big health freak or your dad? Or neither? "Health freak" seems a bit extreme for both of them, but Mom is more concerned about health in general. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? We just have tortilla chips, I think. I try to keep snacks out of the house to avoid temptation, and who eats plain tortilla chips. Do you have your mom's or dad's hair? Mom's. What’s the first thing you see when you walk into your bedroom? Most would probably notice my Nightmare Before Christmas poster first, being as big as it is and on the wall opposite the entrance. Do you prefer the truth, even if it’s harsh? YES. I NEED to know this kinda stuff, even if the truth is really hard to hear. Do you have any friends who have naturally red hair? I don't think so. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? I think I did when my very first band teacher did. EVERYONE loved him. Like, the entire school. Does your kitchen look like it was designed in a completely different decade? No? When’s the last time you wore heels? Great question. Probably not since my sister's wedding in '16. Do you have your mom’s or dad’s eyes? My grampa's on Mom's side. What’s the best date movie? Probably a rom com? Have your parents ever been out of the country? No. How many pairs of jeans, all together, are in your house? Zero. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I'll swear under my breath or seethe in frustration, but I never yell. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? No. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend? Pretty much. Whenever she starts dating a guy, she dips, and whenever/if ever we talk, she rambles absolutely endlessly about him. Do you know anyone who has grossly skinny eyebrows? I couldn't possibly care less about how your eyebrows look. Do your pets chase after bugs? Roman and Bentley sure do. Bentley is a Professional Fly Moncher, specifically. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? Uhhh good question. Probs the night before Sara got here for my b-day. What is your mom’s favorite movie? Hm, good question! I'd ask her, but I don't want her to ask me why I am lmao. What TV family reminds you of your own family? Probably none. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? No. I don't remember what I thought, but I know it wasn't that. Do you have any relatives who really spoil you? No, I think? Well Dad gives my sisters and me way too much money for Christmas and always tells us to ask him if we need anything, but I pretty much never ask him for said things, so I don't know the extent he'd go. Are there any drawers in your house that are just filled with junk? Pretty much. Is the last person you spoke to in love? That's my mom, so I doubt that with all I know. Do you know anyone who has security cameras in their house? I don't believe so. What was the last movie to make you cry? I think the last was Coco. Moana may have made me tear up, but I can't remember... Has anyone you know ever pulled the fire alarm in school, joking around? Not to my memory. What time do you usually go to sleep at sleepovers, if ever? I haven't been to a sleepover in God knows how long. Who was the main character in the last book you read? Alice Liddell. Who are the last people you saw kiss? Via YouTube, Jeffree and his boyfriend. Irl, I don't know. Have you ever posted a fan fiction on a website? No. Do you ever fantasize about your future wedding? Who’s the bride/groom? Not very much. Like I've had brief daydreams about it, sure, but it's not something that's on my mind a lot. Still got a long time before that happens. What was the last unpleasant thing to wake you up? My cat not knowing how to keep his mouth shut. Would you rather look at clouds or stars? Stars. Well, it depends; stars if we're in a completely isolated area where you can see them crystal clear or the clouds are boring, but otherwise, clouds if their design and colors are cool. Do you have any relatives who are expecting a baby really soon? No. Do you ever wonder what the opposite sex do at sleepovers? No. When you get married, who will be the maid of honor/best man? My mom, no questions asked. When’s the last time you broke plans? Why? I wasn't feeling well. I was supposed to see my VR coach that day. Have you ever been in a wedding? What were you? Yes, my sister's. I was a bridesmaid. It was an absolutely awful experience because I was hot as fuck, it was triggering as HELL with me still grieving Jason, and I felt positively hideous in a dress when I was at such a horrible weight. I wish so dearly I could redo that day; I fell like I put a serious damper on my sister's big day. Would you feel safer with an alarm system or security cameras? Hm, depends on the scenario... I guess an alarm system? Like security cameras will show a murderer climbing through my window, but they're not gonna wake me up to save my ass. Does it matter to you what kind of shampoo you use? So long it smells nice, isn't watery, and doesn't only add oil to my hair, I don't care much. Has a stray dog ever tried to bite you? No. When riding a bus, do you prefer to sit in front, in the back, or in the middle? Hm... idk. When I took the bus home with Jason, we always sat in the back, and that's really the only time I took a bus regularly. I think otherwise, I'd prefer the middle, closer to the front? I think I usually did that on occasions like band competitions and such. Have you ever been on a cross-country train ride? No. Are you normally a person to tell people off? No, that's rare. Is there any TV show that ended that you wish hadn’t? Meerkat Manor. Though I would hope they'd lessen down on the false story-telling. Stick to the true KMP events. When you feel stressed, do you take things out on the wrong people? Sometimes. Do you even wear any jeans other than skinny anymore? I don't wear jeans period. What did you talk about at lunch today with your friends? N/A Are you sensitive to caffeine? Definitely not. My system's too used to it, probably. How do you usually get around? Mom drives me. I'm 23. :^) Which languages do you wish you could speak fluently in? German. Have you ever been accused of being too clingy? SURPRISINGLY no, at least to my memory. Do you like Vitamin Water? Never tried, don't want to. What was the last thing you took a picture of? Dad and me on his birthday. Do you know anyone that uses Sprint as their phone carrier? Idk. Well, I think. When you go to McDonalds, what drink do you usually get? Coke. Do you have a Kindle or iPad or neither? Neither. Would you rather read or write? Write. When was the last time someone took a picture of you? Sometime during Bobby's visit literally days ago. I already forgot who took it... and who else was in it lmao. Do you own a pair of slippers? Yeah, two. A meerkat pair and then a far less extra pair that're closer to socks. I think they have cats on them? I got them for Christmas I think and haven't worn or seen them much. Would you rather see Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood in concert? Not a fan of either, but Carrie Underwood is more tolerable and even has a couple songs I enjoy. Name something negative that you hate about yourself: I'll jump to a conclusion within .02 seconds of something negative happening. Or not even "negative" or something that's purely in my head. Is your house currently hot, cold or just right? The house itself is fine, and my room is just right because I have my fan on. Is there a Dead End road near where you live? I can't think of one off the top of my head, but it's likely, really. There's lots of those here. Growing up, did you see your cousins often? No. We live many states away on both parents' sides. Where was your first job at? GameStop. Who are you tired of seeing in the news a lot? (Celebrities) It's been like two days and I'm over seeing the James Charles/Tati drama everywhere. You can't be interested in the YouTube community without being drowned in that shit right now somehow someway on any YT-coverage page and YouTube itself. Have you ever had to call and complain about a product you bought? I personally haven't. Would you date someone who’s shorter than you? I very openly and severely judge you if fucking height means that much to you. Do you mind being the third wheel? Not really, no. I'd only feel uncomfortable if they were getting pretty intimate. Has a kiss ever made you weak in the knees? Um I didn't know that was actually a thing so no. Do you feel comfortable buying condoms? Never been in that position. Have you ever dated two people at once? No. Have you ever been tested for STDs? No. Well wait, that time I gave blood I probably was just out of safety protocol. Have you ever run into your ex with his/her new sweetie? No. Have you ever felt guilty after doing something sexual? When I was in that "wait does this break the abstinence rule" phase, yeah. God was I technical. Have you ever had a condom break during sex? N/A Do your parents know if you’re having sex? Well considering I'm with a girl and she lives states away, that answer's obvious. Do you eat chips or crackers more? Chips. Would you rather be a singer or a dancer? A dancer. Would you rather be a musician or a painter? A painter, maybe? If I could play the electric guitar, though... idk. What social media sites do you visit the most? Facebook. What did you hair look like in high school? Long, thick as fuck, brown (or dyed black) with some sort of highlight, and it was split to the left with the hair swooped over my right eye. Basically "I want the emo swoop but my hair is too fucking thick to obey hairspray." :^) Which dollar store do you shop at? Depends on what's closest, usually. We rarely ever stop at one unless it's for candy to bring into the movie theater, seriously lol. I think usually Dollar General? Do you prefer candy corn or conversation hearts? WE DON'T KNOW EITHER. Skeletons or scarecrows? s k e l l y b o y s Has anyone ever given you the silent treatment? Yep. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had in your mouth? I learned on that day I hate giving blowjobs. Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? No, thankfully. (If you’re a girl) Has anyone ever called you ‘shortie’ instead of girl? BOY I would fucking cackle. I hate that word. No. Do you ever watch The Simpsons? No. Have you ever sent an embarrassing moment of yours into a mag to be printed? OH MY GOD I remember that!!! But no. What IS your most embarrassing moment? Too lazy to go through the novel of 'em to pick the worst. Do you think you’re more cute or sexy? You assume I find myself either. Do you own any mini skirts? I don't own any skirts period. Do you draw little hearts and stuff with eyeliner next to your eyes? No. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever lost? Idk. Has your mom ever lied to you? I'm sure she has before. Do you have a deep voice? For a girl, yeah. When’s the last time someone made breakfast for you? *shrugs* Exclusively for me, probably never. Do you do something new with your hair practically every day? No, it's the same everyday. When someone knocks on the door, who do you think it is? Delivery guy. Has anyone ever licked your foot? Ew no. Do you play games with boys/girls, like ‘hard to get’? I'm not 15. Has a guy ever quoted a romantic Shakespeare line to you? No, and I'm glad, as I'd cringe into another realm. Is there a Sonic where you live? Yes, I LIVE- Do you smile with your teeth? Usually. I look less high, at least. What did you eat for lunch today? A pb&j. What do you like on your pizza? Pepperoni, jalapenos, or meat lovers. What is in the back seat of your car right now? I don't own a personal car. Mom has a a load of stuff in the back of hers, at least I think... That's super rare, but she's been so ungodly busy idk if she's had time to clean it out. I haven't paid attention so can't recall. What was the last thing you threw up? Idr. Menthol or regular cigarettes? I don't smoke and never have, so idk. What is your favorite episode of Friends? I don't watch it, and I haven't seen many episodes at all if for whatever reason I was in a room and it was on. Does anyone have any blackmail on you? No. Have you been to a strip club? No. What’s the last sporting event you watched? Hell if I remember. It had to either be my 16th birthday when Jason's family was all together watching the Super Bowl, or a hockey game with my dad. Last person’s house you were in? Besides my own, my sister's. Who is the last person you sent a message to on Facebook? Nicole. Ever go to camp? No. Were you an honor roll student in school? Yeah. Do you have a tan? HA no. How old do you want to be when you have kids? I don't want kids. Are you someone’s best friend? Yeah. Favorite gemstone? Dragon's breath opal. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru, almost always. Does your first memory involve your dad? No. When was the last time you went swimming? Last summer at the beach. Holy fuck the water was so perfect. Has your luggage ever gotten lost? No. Have you ever thought it would be cool to smash a guitar? No. Like... just why. Do you ever get flu shots? No.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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itisiidiocy · 6 years

Text

The Sweet Case of Keller

"Your last name is Keller, right?"

"Yeah how did you know that?"

Fangs was yawning as he walked down the Southside High's hallways, tired after the previous night's late night show at the Twilight when he saw his hazel eyed friend leaning against the lockers.

"Yo! DeSantos!" Fangs called out only to be met with silence.

"DeSANTOS!" He tried again.

Shaking his head he walked towards his greasy haired friend who was smiling stupidly at his phone.

"Joaquin!" Fangs shook the other serpent by his shoulders to bring him back to earth.

"Oh hey Fangs!" Joaquin said startled. "Sorry I was just...." He looked down at the phone in his hands and Fangs swore that he saw him blush a little.

"What got you all smiley this morning, huh?" Fangs teased.

"Oh no nothing...erm just came across this cool meme--"

"Oh come on Joaquin, it's no secret that you hate memes. You are that one fucktard of our group who doesn't know how to respect memes so stop lying" Fangs accused.

"Am not! Since you guys keep babbling about how good memes are, I thought I might give it a try" Joaquin countered as he awkwardly shrugged and scratched the back of his neck.

Fangs narrowed his eyes skeptically and then exclaimed excitedly.

"Ohmygod, there's a boy!"

"What? no!" Joaquin quickly denied

"Oh yes, you always scratch the back of your neck when you're lying. TELL ME MORE!"

"No I don't and there is no boy. Back off Fogarty" Joaquin snapped

"There is." Fangs continued, unfazed.

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"YES"

"ye-NO"

"Ha!" Fangs high-fived himself. "I knew it. I knew you were hooking up last night when you went to get popcorn and returned like 2 light-years later."

"Our greasy boy is finally getting laid" Fangs gushed.

Joaquin just shook his head at his overly proud friend and made his way away from him and walked towards his next class. Fangs ran to catch up with him while continuously nagging about the Joaquin's new 'love interest'.

"Don't you have a class to attend?" Joaquin asked frustrated.

"Aww, look at this love sick boy" Fangs said into the air. "so lost in thoughts that he even forgot that we have chemistry together" Fangs teased again deliberately pressing on the word 'chemistry'.

Joaquin just rolled his eyes and proceeded inside the apparent chemistry lab.

The corners of the lab were tainted black due to the numerous chemical explosions that took place there courtesy of Sweet Pea. At the back, the Ghoulies were hurdled up, smoking pot--in the chemistry lab of all places-- and laughing loudly.

Joaquin and Fangs looked at each other and sighed. They were surprised that the Ghoulies were actually going to attend a class after all.

"Hello students" Mr. Saltzman's voice rung through the lab making the students hurry into their respective stalls. Joaquin went and sat at his usual secluded corner while Fangs went to sit beside a Ghoulie-glaring Sweet Pea.

"I see the royalties decided to join us today" Mr Saltzman commented upon seeing the Ghoulies.

"What can we do Mr Saltzman? Our love for you is endless" Bucky-one of the Ghoulies-spoke up. "Besides, You are the only teacher who still lets us in their class."

"And then you ask why I question my life choices" Mr Saltzman muttered to himself.

"Anyways, since you are so enthusiastic about giving education a chance, why don't you start on with the class today? Read us on from where we left off on Friday?" He asked Bucky "oh wait, you were probably stoned on Friday, and on Thursday and Wednesday and literally every other day of your existence, much like your education."

At that, Bucky's smile vanished and his expression replaced with an angry and somewhat embarrased one.

Mr Saltzman deadpanned at the group, already used to their antics and turned to the rest of the chucking class.

"Mr DeSantos, why don't you do the honors today?" He asked before he turned towards the board and writing down the heading.

"Mr DeSantos?" He asked again upon not receiving a response from the serpent.

Fangs looked up from doodling in his book to see Joaquin dreamily stare at his closed book with a small smile on his face. Fangs smirked knowing what was up.

"Joaquin!" Mr Saltzman exclaimed just like Fangs did not too long ago.

Joaquin jumped up slightly from his chair, startled by the shrill sound of his name being called out by his teacher.

"Uh y-yes ma-...sir?" He questioned, lost to the happenings in his surroundings.

"What's in the Dreamland for us today? Disney princess or lesbian porn?" Mr Saltzman sassed causing the classroom to erupt in chuckles for the second time that day.

"Spare him today Mr Saltzman" Fangs smirked from his seat in the middle back. "Someone's got his brain a little too pre-occupied today"

The class once again erupted into a series of 'ohh' and teasing whistles as Joaquin sunk further into his chair.

"Quiet!" Mr Saltzman shouted, frustrated. "Now, Mr DeSantos, if we are finally back on Earth again, could you summarise what we did before the weekend?"

"Sure eh sir" Joaquin answered awkwardly before picking up his book.

He narrated the synopsis of how carbon particles form a covalent bond instead of an ionic one due to their incapability of losing or gaining ions.

While the Ghoulies engaged the class with an acute comparison between carbon particles and a reproductively infertile person, Fangs caught Joaquin glaring angrily at him and turns to look the other way when he saw Fangs looking.

Fangs panicked internally. He knew he fucked up. He shouldn't have teased Joaquin in front of the whole class especially when he didn't know if what he guessed was true.

After the class, Joaquin quickly gathered up his things and bolted out of the classroom.

"Joaquin!" Fangs ran out after him hot on his heals, leaving a confused Sweet Pea behind.

"Joaquin! Listen up!" No response. "WAIT UP DeSANTOS!"

"come on! JOAQUIN!" Fangs grabbed his serpent jacket in an attempt to stop the raging bullet.

"WHAT!?" Joaquin angrily turned to face Fangs almost knocking him over.

"What do you want fangs? The details of my rendezvous with a 'someone' hmm?" Joaquin sassed, furious.

"Dude, come on! It was just a joke. Why are you getting so upset?" Fangs tried to reason.

"Because no one can know and it's none of your fucking business!" He whisper-yelled.

"Okay one, ouch and two, what do you mean no one can know?" Fangs inquired.

"Yoo-hoo" Joaquin sing-songed. "I JUST said, it's none of your business"

"Joaquin come on, you're worrying me now. You almost never get angry and right now you're furious in-spite of knowing that I was joking." Fangs rambled on "You always tell me about stuff and now you're saying it's 'none of my business'? Well yes sir, it is absolutely my business and you know what? I'm definitely not going to stop bugging you until---"

"His name is Kevin Keller" Joaquin sighed.

"---you tell me who-- wait, Kevin Keller? As in Sheriff Keller's Keller?" Fangs asked shocked.

Joaquin nodded.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND!?"

Joaquin jumped up and sealed Fangs' mouth with his palm, looking around to see of anyone heard him.

"Quiet!" He whispered sharply. "Now you see why no one can know?"

Fangs straightened up and and jerked Joaquin's hand from his mouth.

"No shit, Sherlock" he huffed. " What were you thinking? Seriously, of all the jerks you could choose from, you chose the town sheriff's son while being part of a motherfucking gang!?"

"Well, don't blame me! You wanted to know, now you know." Joaquin shrugged.

"Wasn't riding a motorbike, carrying a knife in your pocket while wearing leather 24x7, getting a huge ass snake tattoo and hanging out in a bar full of drunkards all at 16 enough rebel for you?"

Joaquin deadpanned, severely regretting telling him anything.

"Does he even know that you're a serpent?" Fangs inquired.

"Of course he does. I have a 'huge ass snake tattoo' remember? He promised he won't tell if I won't."

"And you believe that?"

"Yes I do. And you are not going to question that" Joaquin stated.

"Have you totally lost it, DeSantos? He is fucking sheriff's son! It's written 'beware' in block letters on a big red sign board on his head!" Fangs exaggerated.

Joaquin looked around to check again if anyone was eavesdropping or intrigued with Fangs' not so subtle behavior.

"Look, I- FP put me upto this. He needs to keep an eye on the sheriff for..." he hesitated "....for some reason I don't know of. He's planning on doing that through his son and asked me get on his good side." Joaquin whispered.

"FP put you upto this?" Fangs asked, confused.

"Yes. Now please would you drop this and promise to never mention it to anyone. Just you and me okay? Or else FP will roast me alive." Joaquin said sincerely.

"Yeah yeah don't worry about it" Fangs sighed, casually shrugging off his friend.

"Fangs no." Joaquin looked Fangs in the eye as he firmly held him by his shoulder. "You don't understand. You can't tell anyone. Not even Sweet Pea or Toni. This is important okay? No one means no fucking one. Got it?"

"Yeah, jeez Joaquin" Fangs started as he noticed Joaquin's worried expression.

"Oh god okay, I hereby solemnly promise that this secret stays between the sonority and no outsider would know about it, even if they threaten to feed me to Godzilla." Fangs said in all seriousness.

Joaquin's eyes softened and he burst out laughing. "I'll take your word on that Fogarty"

He turned around to leave as Fangs voice teasingly called from behind.

"By the way, you don't have to blush everytime he texts, you know. FP won't know, trust me"

Joaquin threw a middle finger over his shoulder as he started walking faster in the opposite direction, desperately trying to hide the red creeping on his cheeks and the involuntary smile on his lips.

"Damn you're screwed, DeSantos"

"Joaquin and I used to hang out. He talked about you all the time."

@buggiebreak

#southsideshowcase #southside serpents #fangs fogarty #joavin #joaquin desantos #kevin x joaquin

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justanotherbuckydevotee · 7 years

Text

‘I feel like a third wheel’

Word Count: 1,132 words. Summary: You can’t stay put and decide to go out. Warning(s): idk like angst in the beginning. Fluff. Like one curse word. Bad writing, not proofread A/N: This is my entry for @sebashtiansatan‘s 700 Follower Celebration. Congratulations, my dear! Thank you for letting me join and sorry the title sucks and if this story sucks and if my writing sucks. Happy reading

masterlist

** gif not mine **

It was rare that you find yourself bored to the brink of losing your mind, especially when your line of work was diving head first into the unknown, consciously aware that what lay behind could rip your soul from its body, where death would be a merciful ending. So when the evils of the world decided to hit the pause button when the last stronghold of HYDRA was practically burned to the ground, the team was rewarded with a long break –one you thought was overdue.

But it took you merely a month and a half before you wished anyone could bark orders at you again. Training was not the same as in the field, though it managed to help you rid some of the restless feeling that resided in your bones. You don’t know why your body just craved to fight, as if the luxury of relaxing was a warning that everything was too peaceful, that something terrible was being planned and you are unaware of it, blissfully ignorant in the confines of the Avengers facility.

It was unnerving.

When yet another weekend comes along with absolutely no plans in your schedule, you heaved yourself up from the comforts of your bed, deciding you’d have enough of being detained in the four walls of your room. Walking towards the common area, you found yourself to be glad that some of your team mates decided to stay at the compound.

Bucky and Sam are too focused in their game as you walk in, passing by their intense session of Mario Kart with a small smile on your lips when you notice their serious faces. You slip between the gap of both men as you greet them.

They only grunted in response.

“You both are unbelievable” you tell them, though it fell on deaf ears.

The friendship between Bucky and Sam more often than not confuses you. Most of the time they’re bickering with each other, arguing over petty things like who ate the last slice of Pizza, squabbling incessantly that you wonder how Steve manages these two.

But then there are times of peace. Times like this, where they’re just playing a game quietly where the funky music of their game is the only noise that’s surrounding the lounge area, without both of them…

“Barnes!” Sam suddenly yells, making you jump in your seat. Your eyes instantly go to the screen just in time to see Bucky’s player throw a round ball before it explodes behind Sam’s character’s vehicle, stopping him from progressing any further. You can see the finish line is just around the far corner.

“You’re cheating right now!” “I am not!” “Yes, you are!”

“Dear God!” you finally break, screaming just as loud as they are.

You’re out of your seat in seconds, moments before Steve emerges. He’s about to ask what’s going on but judging by the way your eyebrows are furrowed and Bucky and Sam’s quarrel, he releases a defeated sigh.

He makes his way to the kitchen where you’re standing, trying to be far away from the noise. He gives you a sheepish smile, as if wordlessly saying ‘I’m so sorry for my idiotic friends’.

Honestly, who could stay mad when Steven Grant Rogers is in the room? Your feature softens, the slight scowl turning into a small smile. You’re grateful that Natasha isn’t here –having decided to tag along with Clint somewhere in sunny Spain, or else you would’ve seen that infamous knowing smirk as she wiggles her perfectly shaped brows in your direction. There is no such thing as a secret between you and her; the women’s too good of a spy not to know.

Not to know of your super-secret crush towards the super soldier.

“What are you up to today?” you ask him as he moves to grab a couple of glasses from the top cabinet, before grabbing a carton of orange juice.

“Nothing much. Planned on maybe training the recruits” “Again?”

He sighs. “What is there to do?”

You could only let out a small laugh. It seems as though you aren’t the only one feeling like this. He pours both glasses before handing you one. You grab it from his hand and take a sip as an idea pops in your head.

“How about we go out?” you ask, acting casual. “Walk around the city, maybe grab lunch –“ you continue before being interrupted.

“I’m in”

It wasn’t even Steve who answered. It was Bucky. He’s leaning with his hands on the kitchen counter, Sam crossing both his arms next to him.

Master spy can’t read that you’re trying to go out with just you and your crush the voice in your head snaps. Not wanting irritation and disappointment to show, you immediately say “Okay, cool. I’ll see you guys in the lobby in 10 minutes” with a smile plastered on your lips. None seem to see that its forced as you walk back to your room to change.

The stroll around the city plan is quickly abandoned just as soon as people go “Dude, no shit! It’s Captain America!” before swarming, wanting his autograph or to take pictures. Some are congratulating him, not forgetting Bucky and Sam as they’re surrounded by fans as well. But you can see Bucky’s slightly uncomfortable with the attention, making Steve and Sam quickly react to escape from the limelight.

“There’s a great bistro a few block from here”

Which is how you’ve all ended up sitting at the far corner. You’re sitting next to Steve, looking at the same menu and deciding what to get for yourselves.

“Oh God. I feel like a third wheel now” Bucky suddenly comments from across the table, seeing how you both are talking about what to get, as if oblivious to the world.

“Same” Sam nods, agreeing from next to Bucky. You could only laugh at them both, handing the waitress the menu set you and Steve were looking at after you’ve placed your orders. You’re about to say something when Steve mumbles quietly “Maybe you guys are”

Everyone snaps up at Steve, who only then realizes that he’s said it aloud. He looks down at you, anticipating you to look at him incredulously. But it’s far from that.

You’re smiling so genuinely and brightly for what seemed like ages that it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. He can feel the slight heat spreading on his cheeks but he doesn’t care, not when you’re inching closer to him in the booth as you pull his arm to drape around you.

“Now you’re actually third-wheeling us” you surmised, making them both roll their eyes as a response, but it doesn’t stop them from grinning like idiots at the sight of you and Steve.

tagging: Angst Royalty Babes @hellomissmabel @minervaem @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @alphaabucky @buchananbarnestrash @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @rotisserierogers || Permanent Babes @iamwarrenspeace @lovely-geek @sarahp879 @whitepanthergirl || ‘Anything Steve’ @patzammit

If you’d like to be tagged in anything, please send an ask. Thanks for reading!

#alaskaswritingchallenge #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction

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brosura · 7 years

Text

it’s not a party until someone’s face gets shoved into a cake - Episode Prompto Edition

Word Count: 3452 Rating: G Characters: Prompto + the gang (+ guest dog party member) Summary: y’all know what i’m about this boy’s getting his face in a cake

Written for @promptoweek (Day 7: Birthday)

In all honesty, Prompto had almost forgotten it was his birthday.

He probably would have gone home none the wiser if it wasn’t for the nice old lady that worked down the hall from the interns in his office who remembered everyone’s birthdays. She’d given him a little supermarket fat chocobo cake on his way out and asked what his plans ‘for the special day!’ were, and he’d stuttered his way through a lie because he had no plans.

Well, he didn’t have any before. His parents were gone for the week, he had some leftovers he needed to finish before they went bad and he figured he was just going to play video games all night.

But he certainly has plans now. His parents are gone for the week, he has a fat chocobo cake to eat with his leftovers and he’s got video games to play all night.

All things considered - with ‘all things’ being that he’d forgotten he had a birthday at all - he’s feeling pretty good about the way his night is looking.

Maybe he’ll call Noct later, ask if he can stay over the next day. Prompto doesn’t begrudge Noctis for not wishing him a happy birthday - Noctis has been way too busy lately, and Prompto has been way too busy forgetting his own birthday - but that doesn’t mean he’s averse to doing something for the occasion. Maybe they’ll get french fries or play video games, and maybe he’ll get lucky and find that Ignis has remembered, that there’s one of those gourmet cakes waiting for him when he shows up.

Maybe it’ll be a fatter chocobo.

He’s so absorbed in the fantasy, in staving off the loneliness that is bound to dampen his good mood when he comes home to an empty house, that he doesn’t notice the nice car parked outside his complex.

The far too nice car. Sleek. Black. Custom. Familiar.

But he doesn’t look at it for long enough to recognize it, he’s just humming to himself contentedly as his thoughts jump between the night he’s excited to have and the prospect of spending the day after with his friends.

He doesn’t notice something is amiss until he opens the door to his house and hears the familiar click click click of a dog scampering across a hardwood floor to greet him.

A dog he does not have.

“H-hello-?” he starts, panicked for a moment that he might have accidentally broken into a neighbor’s apartment. But a quick glance ahead shows the picture his parents had hung up on the wall, a print of a photograph he’d taken of an Insomnian street that had won an award in the amateur section of the magazine he currently worked at.

So this is his house. His (unfortunately) dogless house. And yet the dog scampers onward.

He doesn’t have quite enough time to feel any real dread about what this mystery might unravel into before a familiar canine rounds the corner, licking her lips and sitting patiently, tail wagging softly.

“Tiny!” he gasps, setting down his chocobo cake as quickly as he can on the hall table to approach her.

She’s much bigger than the puppy he’d found that day so many years ago, but she still brightens up the same way at the name, tail wagging more vigorously and ears perked up. He goes to squat in front of her, and she takes that as permission to approach, which she does as enthusiastically as she did as a puppy, wriggling into his arms to lick at his face.

“C-calm down, girl,” he laughs between kisses. Her fur is soft underneath his palms as he fruitlessly tries to hold her back from his face. “Where did you come from?! How did you-?!”

“I let her in,” he hears in that carefully casual tone he recognizes as-

“Noctis?!” he yelps, nearly toppling over in his haste to turn towards the source of the voice, and sure enough it’s Noctis - best friend and prince of the entire country - in his house, sitting at his kitchen table.

That he hadn’t cleaned.

He grimaces at the sight of Noctis leaning back on the sweater he’d pulled off and tossed on the chair after his morning run, resolving to pick it up before his parents got back, one elbow on the table next to a bowl of cereal he’d forgotten to put in the sink before he left.

“Her name is Pryna, by the way,” he says, not seeming to notice.

The King’s Knight theme plays quietly from the phone in his hands as Pryna stops licking at Prompto’s face to sit between them. It’s strange that Noct’s alone here. Unguarded. Prompto lives in a decently safe area, but it would make sense for him to have some kind of security detail to visit a commoner’s house.

That is, if it made sense for Noctis to be in a commoner’s house in the first place. Noctis being royalty aside, Prompto knows he locked the door on the way out.

“How did you-?!”

“You gave me a spare key,” Noctis says before he can finish, producing the key with a pointed jingle. Pryna’s ears perk up at the sound. “Remember? We traded.” Noctis flinches, then starts talking loudly even though they’re the only ones in the room. His eyes dart to a corner of the room but Prompto’s still too in shock to process what this could mean. “I mean, we didn’t trade. You gave me your key. I didn’t give you anything.”

Prompto runs a hand through his hair, muttering a quiet, “I didn’t think you’d actually use it.”

“And why not?”

“Because we always hang at your place,” Prompto answers without thinking. “And because, well, you’re the Prince, dude. And this is like, smack dab in the middle of plebe-ville. I thought there were, I don’t know, rules? Safety regulations? Gladio?”

“Usually, yeah, but Gladio’s busy.” He looks nervous for some reason, but Prompto chooses to focus on Pryna instead to avoid feeling even more nervous himself. “He told me to say sorry he couldn’t make it, though.”

“Make it?”

“To your birthday,” Noct says, casual and blunt, and Prompto remembers for the second time that day that it is, in fact, his birthday.

“Oh,” he says, blinking. “Right.”

Noctis frowns. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

Prompto balks, and he can see Noct’s frown deepening so he blurts, “Don’t you have like meetings on Wednesdays or something?”

“A council meeting, yeah,” Noctis says, casually, like he’s missing out on doing the laundry and not a meeting with the entire governing body of the entire country. He seems to notice Prompto’s immediate distress, though, because he just gives Prompto a grin and explains, “Don’t worry. I told my dad it was your birthday and he’s running interference.”

His dad. As in, the King. Who now knows his son is skipping out on meetings to hang out with his commoner pal in his uncleaned apartment for a birthday that the birthday boy forgot about. Great.

“Oh,” he trails off, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey,” Noctis says with another little frown. He looks concerned and worried, on the edge of panic. “If you don’t, er, if you don’t want me here or whatever, it’s cool. I can go, really, just let me know if you’re uncomfortable, sorr-”

“No!” Prompto cuts in, because that’s the last thing he wants. He’s happy Noctis is here, sure. He’s always happy to see Noctis.

But he’s also just... a lot of things. Surprised, for one. Underprepared as a subset of that. And a little embarrassed, if he’s honest with himself.

They’d never talked about it much - Noctis never seemed to care about their difference in station, anyway - but Prompto has never felt more like an unworthy commoner than he did right now, in this moment, with Noctis sitting on his dirty sweatshirt next to his unwashed dish and playing hooky from meetings that were probably way more important than some plebe’s birthday.

“I just, er, wasn’t prepared, is all,” he says, with the best lopsided grin he can muster. He feels better as he says it, starts to feel more excited at the prospect of spending time with Noctis the way he normally is. “I’m- I was gonna ask you to hang out tomorrow, so it’s not like I didn’t want to see you or anything. I’m glad you’re here.”

Noctis grins. “Well, it’d hardly be a surprise party if you were prepared for it! I just wasn’t aware the surprise of the surprise birthday party was going to be that it was your birthday.”

“Give me a break, work is hard,” Prompto grumbles. Then he gives Noctis a grin of his own as he teases, “A surprise party? And it’s just you?”

“Hey, I’m the only party you’ll ever need,” Noctis tries to brag. He tries to. But he seems to feel how embarrassing that is to say as he finishes saying it, because he’s stiff as he gestures in what he must hope is a casual way to Pryna. “And I brought Pryna.”

“Tin-er,Pryna!” Prompto coos, and she returns to his side to lick at his nose as he squats down to squish her furry cheeks. “You’re the only party I’ll ever need, girl.”

“Very funny,” Noctis deadpans. “You called her Tiny? That’s cute and all, but did you two know each other?”

And Prompto freezes because he’d never actually told Noctis about the person he’d been all those years ago. The lonely little boy who’d found an injured puppy that carried his future on her little shoulders, the letter in his desk. He’s always been worried that Noctis would hate him for it, would think Prompto was just using him, or something.

He’s always hated remembering who he was before he’d met Noctis.

“Yeah,” Prompto starts, trying to keep his voice even. It helps to look at Pryna only, to meet her big eyes as he runs his hands down her soft neck. “Yeah, I, er, I met her when she was little. I think her paw was hurt or something?”

“Huh,” Noctis says, sounding genuinely curious, but Prompto’s still afraid to look at him. “Luna mentioned once that one of my classmates helped Pryna when she was lost in Insomnia. Who would have thought that was you? Small world, huh?”

“Yeah, small world,” Prompto agrees, distantly.

And Pryna seems to understand the anxiety that’s bubbling up inside him, because she perks up as if in encouragement, stamping gently with her paws and licking at his face again. It’s weird to think - she’s still just a dog - but Prompto feels like she’s telling him that it’s ok. That it doesn’t matter. That all that matters is that he’s here, that they’re friends now.

It’s your birthday, he has to remind himself for the third time that day. It’s fine to just enjoy yourself. You’ve made it this far.

He scratches Pryna’s jaw in thanks, feeling himself calm slightly as she twitches her ears and pants amicably at him.

“Well, I’m glad you’re the guy who found her,” Noctis says before Prompto can dwell on the fact that he’s taking advice from a dog. Then he gives Prompto a look so earnest and open that Prompto can’t focus on anything else as he says, “And I guess, I’m glad you’re the guy that found me, too.”

He says it with such a casual delivery but with adamant sincerity behind it that Prompto can’t immediately process exactly what Noctis said, exactly the way he’d said it.

He can only focus on the way it feels to hear that, to be told that he’s wanted in so many words. The giddy relief smoothing out his shoulders, repurposing the tension into the straightness of his back, the light feeling of his limbs. The way something bright and joyous buzzes and kicks about in his chest, threatening to escape.

It’s so much feeling that it doesn’t even falter by the time Prompto realizes exactly what Noctis said, exactly the way he’d said it.

“Dude, what was that?” Prompto says with a breathy laugh from the thing buzzing in his chest.

“I don’t know,” Noctis replies, but he doesn’t seem embarrassed. He looks just as happy as Prompto. “It seemed cool when I said it.”

“Well, it was not cool,” Prompto laughs. “At all. Seriously dude, are we having fondue or something? What’s with all the cheesy one-liners?”

“Talk about cheesy.” Noctis rolls his eyes. “And, I don’t know, I just didn’t think I said it enough. That I’m happy you’re my friend, I mean.” He grins again. “And I figure that you might want to hear it for your birthday.”

“You forgot an actual present, didn’t you?”

“Hey,” Noctis laughs. “I brought you a cake! And Pryna.”

“Nice try,” Prompto says and leans over to pick up his chocobo cake from the hall table. “I’ve already got one of those. And Pryna came because she’s a friend.”

“Yeah, well,” Noctis smirks with that face he uses when he’s holding all the cards as he pulls another cake from across Prompto’s table - past the unwashed cereal bowl - and presents it with a flourish. “Is your cake an Ignis cake?”

“Oh man, it is not,” Prompto wheezes, taking in the sight of the cake as he sets his supermarket cake down next to it. For one, it’s way bigger than the little chocobo. And while it’s not as elegant as the stuff he’s used to seeing from Ignis - Prompto can guess that’s for his benefit, he always hated ruining the pretty frosting - he can tell from just the look of it that it’s going to taste way better than the little chocobo, too.

Oh man, he thinks. Sorry, little dude.

“Well, consider that one of the benefits of having me as a friend,” Noctis says in that boasting tone. His eyes are gleaming and his grin is wide as he goes on to say, enigmatically, “And since you’re my friend, I’ll give you the privilege of choosing: your cake, or mine?”

“Um…your cake?” Prompto says, because it’s not even really a contest in his mind.

Even if Ignis had made him a chocobo turd cake, accurate down to the shape and taste, Prompto would have chosen the thing his friends had made for him over anything else.

It seems like the right idea.

Until Noct’s eyes light up even more and he says, “Well, you heard him.”

“Good idea,” is the next thing he hears, immediately behind him in the gruff voice of Gladio.

“Indeed,” he hears, and it’s Ignis this time. “It would have been a shame to ruin the chocobo.”

He scarcely has time to turn before a set of strong hands grab him around his middle to lift him in the air and shove him forward until he’s completely submerged in the cake he’d been admiring only a minute ago.

I was right, is the only thing he can think as he processes the shock of being ambushed like this in his own house. It tastes really good.

“Was it really necessary to lift him like that, Gladio?” Ignis says, and Prompto can imagine the look on his face from the sound of his voice. An unconvincing frown on his brow paired with a subtle quirk of the lips.

“I didn’t want him to struggle,” Gladio deadpans, but even he sounds like he’s got a smile on his face.

“So you picked him up and used him as a battering ram?” Noctis chimes in, but his voice is cracking and just on the edge of laughter.

“It worked. And he’s fine,” Gladio says, and Prompto feels himself being lifted from the cake and set back on the ground. His tone has the slightest hint of panic in it as he asks, “You’re fine, right?”

Prompto collapses to the ground.

Noctis nearly does, too, with how hard he’s laughing.

“I’m mortally wounded,” Prompto gasps with an exaggerated groan of pain. “You’re my friends and you betrayed me. I’m not going to last much longer.” He coughs. “I’m going to die of a broken heart from this betrayal of trust.”

Noctis hasn’t stopped laughing for any of this. In fact, he’s laughing harder.

“Rather insensitive, your highness,” Ignis deadpans. “Can’t you see that he’s going to die?”

“Of a broken heart,” Prompto chimes in.

“Well,” Ignis says, sounding only just stern enough to get Noctis to laugh behind his fist instead of openly. “If he does die, perhaps we can see to getting back the non-duplicable apartment key that you seem to have duplicated for him, Noctis.”

“Er,” Noctis chokes, caught between laughing and the realization that Ignis is not joking underneath the joke.

Just at that moment, Pryna pads up to lick at Prompto’s face. She’s strangely expressive for a dog, and Prompto gets the feeling that she’s exasperated by the task rather than excited by it like he’d imagine a dog would be. She huffs in what sounds like annoyance before clearing his face of frosting in what seems like an intentional manner.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Prompto grins, feebly trying to pull Pryna away from his face as she reaches near his ear. It’s ticklish. “Pryna healed me with her kindness! I’ll survive this fatal encounter.”

“Glad to have you back,” Noctis says with a warm grin.

“Don’t think I've forgotten about the key,” Ignis warns.

“Well,” Prompto says around a laugh, finally succeeding in getting Pryna to relent. “Before you kill him or me, let’s eat this cake so you guys can head out.”

It seems like a reasonable thing to say, but Gladio looks at him like he’s just said he’s on a gysahl green only diet from here on out. “What do you mean ‘head out?’”

“Head out,” Prompto says. “Like, go back to work?”

“And why would we go back to work,” Ignis says, but his smile is warm as he says it. “When there are already pressing matters to attend to here?”

Prompto tilts his head and Ignis just sighs.

“Your birthday, Prompto.”

“Sounds like he wants us to go,” Noctis teases. “Well, if you really don’t want us here-”

“No, wait!” Prompto cuts him off even though he knows it’s an empty threat. “I just, I didn’t realize you were all here for me.”

“Got it wrong, Prompto,” Gladio smirks, but he’s clearly joking. “I only came for the cake.”

“Well,” Noctis leans in to stage whisper. “Between you and me, Gladio was hoping you’d let him try out that new video game you got.”

Prompto tilts his head again. “What new video game?”

“Oh, crap,” Noctis blinks. “Happy birthday. I got you a video game.”

“I just wanted to know if I should get it for Iris,” Gladio grumbles.

“Well, then,” Prompto grins so hard it hurts. “Let’s do it!”

As if responding to his enthusiasm, Pryna yips happily and bounces at his feet.

He’s so giddy a part of him believes that this isn’t real. He’s so lightheaded he thinks he might just be up in the clouds imagining this. His night had turned around so drastically in the span of a short few minutes.

He’s never had something like this before, never had people who wanted him around enough that they skipped important, nationally important things to just eat cake and play video games with him. And he’s certainly still overwhelmed about all that, but it feels right now that he’s in the moment.

It feels good.

He feels like he’s home.

“Wait a minute,” Ignis cuts in. “I didn’t make that cake so that you would ignore it for video games.”

“Oh,” and it’s Prompto’s turn to smirk. “Riiiight.”

“Prompto, what are you-?!” but he doesn’t finish, because Prompto’s grabbing a fistful of cake and shoving it in his face.

“Ooooh,” Noctis starts to tease, but he doesn’t get to finish either, because Prompto’s on a mission of revenge and he’s next on the hit list.

Prompto doesn’t get to Gladio, though, because Gladio’s known his game from the beginning and retaliates immediately and soon a great and tumultuous war begins. It’s bloody and violent, and they’re all laughing and shouting in varying levels of panic and vicious delight.

Pryna yips and scurries about their ankles, clearly distressed about the mess she’s going to have to clean up.

And it’s quite the mess they end up in.

Prompto’s back on the floor again covered in frosting as Pryna cleans his face in between high pitched grumbles, Noctis is leaning heavily on the table next to Ignis, who’s wiping his glasses with the only clean corner of his shirt, and Gladio’s making a (futile) effort to clean his beard in the kitchen sink.

Ignis’ cake, the first and only fatal casualty, lies almost completely mangled on the table.

“So,” Prompto grins from the ground. “I guess we’re going to have to eat my cake, huh?”

not featured: king regis showing up late to the party with more cake only surrounded by kingsglaive and the media shows up (naturally) and when they’re like ‘what are you doing here’ he’s like ‘i came to shove this cake into my son’s friend’s face’

also, gladio in this fic: what if i hold him sideways and use his head like a battering ram

i told y’all he was getting his face shoved into a cake and i intended to deliver.

let me know how i did!!!

#ffxv #my fic #promptoweek #this turned out longer than intended #cake baby

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