#'sad angry boys' is the best fake band name

[howyouloveyourdragon]

Some 'Jessie (Jace)'s Girl' Headcanons

based on my fanfic Jessie (Jace)'s Girl

A/N: these are just some headcanons i came up with while writing also im sorry that aemond is such a sad boi in this, it had to be done

Jacaerys

– straight up refuses to answer to his full name unless you're angry at him, – he will turn round with the widest eyes and deer in headlights expression, fearing for his life, he knows better than to piss you off – verrryy clingy, this boy will do anything just to hold your hand – he likes to help teach you the drums just as an excuse to get close to you – you said you liked his hair long one time and bitch held onto that, Luke sometimes threatens to cut it in his sleep cause he's so protective of it now – considered bleaching his hair for awhile because the attention on it was getting to him and he could barely look at it in the mirror anymore – only started to love his hair because he started to get compliments on it when he got to college and you like to play with the curls – if he's honest, it's become one of his favourite parts about himself now and that only makes his crush even harder on you – started 'The Blacks' back up again because he genuinely loves music, not just because it was his mum's and it was expected of him – it actually surprised Rhaenyra when he suggested taking it on after it broke up – is very diligent in practicing but rarely berates anyone for being late or cancelling so long as the rest come and they have a genuine excuse, he only ever got pissed off at this when it was coming close to the 'King's Gate Best Bands' comp because he knew he was going to confess his feelings for you and needed everything to be perfect – was extremely anxious about it – if it wasn't for The Greens playing 'Jessie's Girl' then Baela would have had to do some heavy coercion to get him to sing it with her – was originally going to tell you he loved you on your last date but chickened out – he's actually very insecure because of the whole media drama of his paternity – the media used to stake out his school to get pictures of him because Rhaenyra, Harwin and Laenor wanted to keep his privacy, it was all very traumatising for him and it didn't help when his uncles and step-grandmother started making fun of or quipping at him and his brothers for it too – because of this he is also very protective of his younger sibling and he's grown a sixth sense for cameras – Rhaenyra and Laenor never married but they did fake date for the media so Rhaenyra's relationship with Harwin and Laenor's relationship with Joffrey wouldn't get out, they wanted their privacy – went through a period where he resented his mother for not just being public with Harwin from the start but slowly understands when he starts getting feelings for you and fans start to hound him about you – has trouble stringing his feelings into words so dodges the most lyric work as possible – doesn't love the business elements of it but takes on the responsibility of it and tries to understand as much as possible, takes it all very seriously – actually really enjoys going out after gigs and interacts with other bands as much as possible – very good at strengthening connections

Aemond

– the first time he saw you, he thought you were just one of the many girls Aegon had taken an interest in but then he caught you in class and frowned – he became concerned until you kept returning and he discovered you were merely a platonic friend of his brother's – it's relieving to hear but also hurts a little when he can't stop looking at you when you stay over for dinner with that golden girl façade perfect to his parents and practically enchanting them – he blushes everytime he sees you and jumps at the opportunity to impress you when his brother mentions restarting up 'The Greens', he's so eager to join – he already plays his aunt's old bass but now he practices with it religiously – and when you come over to watch them practice? he swoons, beaming and trying even harder until the expression falls at the sight of you hugging and praising his brother more than the rest even though you both know the guy barely tries – so he decides to move out after enrolling in university and escape you – unfortunately absence only makes the heart grow fonder and when he sees you again at that cursed bar, his heart flutters unabashedly – but he's confident now, had two girlfriends and is ready to make his move... – but then he shows up with his arm draped over you and kissing your cheek – Aemond deflates and freezes but still holds on hope – maybe it's just a one night thing? – do you even know who he is? probably not and you'll regret it in the morning and he can try again – but the next morning comes and he creeps down the stairs, peeking past the wall to find Aegon and Jacaerys in a heated discussion but it's not angry, just frustrated – all he can think is shit as Aegon begrudgingly approves their nephew's request to ask you out and he wants to smack that shit-eating grinning right off of that smug bastard's face not for the first time – from that day forward he makes a promise to himself that he's going to make you see how much better for you he is than anyone else, bringing you snacks when you come to gigs, offering to tie your hair back for you, 'oh don't pay for that i've got it' – will always lend you his jacket unprompted even if Jace is around – he will subtly flirt even if your right next to Jace, playing it off – loves making inside jokes, the idea that there's this hidden language that only the both you know makes him so giddy – it's also so satisfying to tell people 'oh you wouldn't get it' and wink – not the best lyricist but tries his best to help

Aegon

– he first met you when you were kids and you pushed him off the swing set because he was taking too long – he cried but if anyone asks how you met he'll put on a false bravado and pretend he let you on instead, puffing his chest and using your younger age against you but no one ever really believes him – you grew up together and he loves to bring up photos of your awkward phase and practically has them buried in his pocket at all times – secretly has a photo of you both at prom together in his wallet, he was thrilled when you asked him and wanted to see that bitch Verity Brown who was making fun of your singleness – you were the first person to bleach his hair, he was whining about his natural blonde and that it wasn't cool enough – he wouldn't stop badgering you to do something with it, too excited – dyed his hair all sorts of colour with help from his older sister Rhaenyra, his mum hates it – everytime he dyes it a new colour, he makes you spin a wheel to decide – at the moment however he's happy with the bleached look – this boy teases you constantly – was the biggest fuckboy on campus to no ones surprise before he dropped out to pursue the band – you were there for him during his worst times and the height of disappointing his family – his mother gave him an ultimatum to either join The Greens with his brother, sign back up for uni and pay it off on his own or leave the family – he went to your place in tears and sobbed with you all night, he didn't even know who he was anymore, all he knew was that you were his friend and he trusted you – it's that night that he realises he loves you, he doesn't know when it began but he knows it's true – he distances himself from you for about a month before he crawls back to you and tells you he's joined The Greens, he wants to prove himself; to you, to his mother, to his siblings, father, everyone – he wants to be good enough for you – he actually doesn't have many close friends other than you but everyone sees him as a popular figure – people want his approval and to be friends with him but nobody actually know him or want to be there for him – he can be between hyperactivity and low movement depending on his mood so always an extreme but you can always count on him to invite you out for the night – he insists on a Friday Movie Night every week and genuinely considers it like it's sacred – when Jace asks his approval to ask you out, he sighs – the whole reason that he hasn't asked you out himself is because he doesn't want you hurt but he knows his nephew is relatively harmless and if he wanted to hurt you, Aegon doubted he could actually go through with it – and Jace makes you happy doesn't he? he wants you to be happy – he wants you to have everything you could possibly imagine and more – he's never on time to band meetings or rehearsals, he likes to wing it much to the distress of Aemond

[chaoscheebs]

Some more fashionable Kisekis I posted on Twitter ages ago and forgot to port over here.

Joshua has glasses, because as we all know the boy can't hit the broad side of a barn and desperately needs them.

[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

deep breath, do your job | owen joyner

requested; yes! - Could you do a Owen x reader where the reader is Owens personal assistant while filming JATP and while they are filming the reader starts catching feelings for Owen but Owen is in a relationship. Owen and his girlfriend breakup and the reader comes over to comfort Owen and Owen confesses that the reason him and his girlfriend broke up was because of the reader.

word count; 6.4K ... yeah kinda got away from me there. longest fic i’ve ever written

warnings; language, implied sexual content but no actual sex or description thereof

a/n; lol, so i just wrote from 1AM - 4AM because i’m procrastinating my child dev. project thats due today that’s worth a quarter of my grade. i really didn’t mean for this to be so long so it’s probably not this good and the ending is a lil’ rough, but oh well. hope whoever requested this likes it. i kinda do even though it’s long and only slightly proofread.

“Owen Patrick Joyner! Get your ass into hair and makeup before - oh, um, okay oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Should have knocked. I’ll just - yep, i’ll just go.” 

You thought he’d be sleeping. It’s nap time for him anyway, so he should’ve been sleeping. Instead, your technically boss and definite crush, was on his trailer couch with a girl you’ve never seen before. Kissing her. Without a shirt. Yeah, you definitely need to get out of there. 

You’re quick to close his door and begin to walk back to the hair and makeup trailer to tell them Owen will be a minute. 

“Y/N! Hey! Wait up! It’s um, it’s not, well it is, but -” He grabs your arm, causing you to turn around and face him, which, big mistake. Abort. Abort. Turn around. His post make out face is something you did not want to see. Liar.  

“It’s fine Owen. What you do in your free time is not my, well, actually it is since i’m your PA, I just mean who - WHAT, what you do in your personal time, in your trailer, is not my concern. Just, you’re needed in hair and makeup like, an hour ago. So, yeah, just, get there.” You stumble over half your words and watch his face fall as you near the end of your spiel. When he lets go of your arm you’re quick to turn around and leave him alone, walking right past hair and makeup and to set where you can curl up in your chair and eat your weight in brownies, if Madi hasn’t taken them all that is. You hope he goes to get his hair done. You know you should walk with him there because if you’re not practically dragging him to where he needs to go he never gets there on time, as just witnessed. But it’s usually because he’s goofing off with Charlie, not sucking face with a random girl. 

You don’t notice the brownie in your hand has crumbled until a whistle comes from behind you. You turn around a little too quickly, sending the brownie bits flying to the floor. 

“Shit.” You kneel down to begin picking it up, another hand coming into help. Charlie, based on the rings adorning the fingers. 

“Is Owen’s keeper okay?” You huff a laugh at the name the cast gave you a week into filming. You’re the only one who has managed to keep Owen in line since filming started, the only reason he’s ever on time for anything or actually has real food in the apartment or has his drumsticks when needed, etc. etc. 

The boys didn’t want PA’s when Kenny proposed it during bootcamp, they were young adults, they didn't want to boss someone around, it felt wrong. But having more experience than the boys, Kenny vetoed how they felt and told them PA’s would help tremendously, especially on a project like this. That’s where you came in. You were trying to get into the directing and producing scene in Hollywood, you’re dream to be as good a director as Steven Spielberg or, well, Kenny Ortega. But you knew you had to start small, so you applied for a PA job on an upcoming Netflix show, getting hired within the week. Now here you are, a nineteen year old being in charge of another nineteen year old who acts more like he’s five. 

In the beginning, it was purely professional. You were nothing more than his PA who got him from place A to place B in a timely fashion. But then he started to rope you into pranks with the rest of the band. He started inviting you to movie nights, and adventures to the grocery store, and ice skating with Charlie and Madi, and somewhere between helping him keep his life in order and watching him fall on his ass at the ice rink, you fell for the blonde. You know it’s a mistake, falling for him. You work for him. He’s your friend. That’s all he sees you as, but you couldn’t help it. But you’re good at compartmentalizing, so you took all the inappropriate feelings, shoved them in a box, locked the box, and hid it deep in your unconscious. You were doing well with ignoring the box, until you walked in on Owen kissing someone that wasn’t you. 

“I’m fine Charlie, just, stressed. Owen was an hour late to hair and makeup so I kinda feel like a shit PA right now.” Charlie chuckles and hugs you as you both stand up. 

“Please Y/N, you’re the best PA. If it weren’t for you, Owen would never know where anything is, including his head.” You laugh into his shoulder, reveling in the hug for a few more seconds. When you part, you see a flash of blonde enter the set and sigh in relief. He made it. He’s ready. You’re not fired today. 

Just incredibly confused and upset. 

But not fired.

“You better go, I know you’re in this scene with Owen.” Charlie nods and squeezes your shoulder once before running after Owen onto the set that holds Julie’s shed. Taking a deep breath, you try to push whatever the hell you saw ten minutes ago into your box, and get ready for the day ahead. 

Four hours, six brownies, and two cookies later, Owen is officially wrapped for the day, meaning you can go home and continue to eat your feelings in ice cream. You’re quick to grab your binder full of Owen’s schedules to drop tomorrow’s off at his trailer before he sees you. You’re not really in the mood to talk to him about what happened earlier, so you fast walk to his trailer, fully intent on just leaving the paper on his counter where he’ll see it, but a brown haired, green eyed girl throws that plan right out the window. 

You’re so stupid. You should’ve known she would still be here. Waiting. 

“Oh, um, hi.” She says. She sounds nice. She looks nice. But when you look at her all you can see is her hands in Owen’s hair and his lips on hers. 

“Hi.” You don’t know how, but you managed to put on a smile and put a little pep into your voice. “I’m Ashley. I’m waiting for Owen. Is he done?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, one foot on the step the other in the trailer, hand outstretched ready to place the schedule on the table. 

“He just wrapped for the day. Should be here in a few.” The girl - Ashley - nods. 

“You’re Y/N, right? His personal assistant?” How does she know that. She giggles, “He talks about you all the time. Says the only reason he’s not fired or dead in a ditch is because of you.” OH, you said that aloud. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoo-

“Y/N! What are ya doing just standing in the doorway?” Fuck. You put a smile on and turn around. He’s smiling softly at you, still in Alex’s clothes, twirling those damn drumsticks around his fingers. 

“Um, just dropping tomorrow’s schedule off. Here. Okay...bye.” You walk down the steps, letting the door shut behind you, fully intent on leaving, but Owen grabs your arm again, just like earlier, causing you to stop and turn to look at him. 

“Wait. Can we talk real quick. About...earlier?” No. No absolutely not. 

“Um, I really have to go. I have a lot to do tonight for tomorrow.” Owen sighs and lets go of your arm, face contorting into that of a sad puppy. 

“Just, one minute Y/N. Please. Let me explain.” Screw him and his perfect freaking face. 

“A minute.” His face lights up and grabs your hand, leading you back into his trailer, smiling even wider at seeing Ashley sitting pretty on the couch. 

“Y/N, this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” Ashley smiles and waves, standing up to stand by Owen and grab his hand. A rock settles in your chest at the word. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

“Nice. I’m Y/N. But you knew that. Just like you also know I’m in charge of getting him to places on time. Which didn't happen today.” Owen’s face flushes at that while Ashley terribly hides a smirk behind her hand. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that Y/N. She surprised me today. We weren’t supposed to see each other until Thanksgiving but she finished classes early and flew out to surprise me. Kinda got, caught up in -” His face is beat red so you’re quick to cut him off. 

“It’s fine. Just, try not to get ‘caught up’ tomorrow, yeah?” It’s harsh and full of hostility, but you want to leave, the word still bouncing around in your head, swirling around the scene you walked into earlier. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

Flushed face. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

“I have to go. See you tomorrow on set at 5 Am. Got it? Five A M. Don’t make me break into your apartment again. I almost got arrested for that.” Owen is still reeling from your harsh words said a second ago to laugh at the memory. Ashley however, has no qualms about speaking up. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s here on time.” She smiles and wraps around his arm like a koala. You hold back a scoff, throwing up a fake smile before turning and leaving. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

It’s almost midnight.

It’s 11:48 PM and someone is knocking on your door. 

Who the fuck is pounding on your door at near midnight. 

You shuffle to the door wrapped up in your comforter, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. You don’t bother looking through the peephole, too angry at the person behind the door to bother, just wanting to yell at them and get back to bed. 

“What the - Charlie?” He looks exhausted, hair ruffled and eyes puffy. He’s in joggers, a random band tee and his denim jacket. You’re pretty sure his shoes are on the wrong feet. 

“Can I stay the night?” He doesn’t wait for your response before walking into your apartment, flinging his shoes and jacket off and walking to your room. You sigh, ignoring the way he just threw his stuff around and instead follow him to your room before he takes your side of the bed. You walk in just as he chucks his shirt off and woah. You were so not expecting that. An explanation as to why he’s here at midnight? Yeah. Him taking your side of the bed? Definitely. But not Charlie taking his shirt off and crawling onto the right side of the bed and curling around a pillow. You take a moment to collect yourself and your thoughts before crawling into bed next to him, making sure to drape the comforter over him as well. He hums in content and turns around to face you. 

“Sorry for barging in like this. Just, ugh, Owen and that girl are not quiet if you catch my drift.” And it’s like the rock in your heart is now a boulder and it’s crushing your ribcage. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You’re frozen, staring at Charlie’s half asleep face. “Like I get it, you’ve missed each other. But c’mon bro I’m there too.” He keeps talking. Keeps pushing the boulder until all the ribs crack and puncture your lungs. “There’s somethings in this world I never wanted to hear, and Owen moaning was one of them.” He won’t shut up. Charlie shut up. You’re entire chest is fracturing, breaking at his words and he needs to shut. up.

“I didn’t really know where else to go, but I remembered how comfy your bed was last movie night so, here I am.” His voice is raspy, words slurring as he’s trying to fight sleep to explain to you why he’s here. But you can’t focus on him right now. Can’t think about a shirtless Charlie in your bed. There’s only one thing you can think about right now. 

Girlfriend. 

Shirtless. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

“Thanks for letting me crash by the way. I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.” He chuckles, then finally opens his eyes when you don’t laugh back. You don’t know how you look right now. You know you’re frozen. But is the panic and pure sadness showing on your face? It must be, because suddenly Charlie is wide awake and leaning up on his elbow to look at you fully. “Y/N are you okay?” He’s worried. You want to tell him you’re okay. It’s fine. Everything is fine. But you can’t move. You can’t talk. Because reality is crushing you. It’s ripping up your heart, suffocating you, consuming your mind. 

Owen isn’t yours. 

Owen will never be yours. 

You’re just a friend. 

You’re just his PA. 

That’s when the tears finally start. They come slowly, one trailing down your cheek, then another. Then all at once your sobbing into Charlie’s chest, no doubt getting snot all over him. But he doesn’t seem to care. He just starts to hum some random song while he repeatedly runs his hand over your hair, the other holding you close to him. He keeps humming, his chest vibrating and giving you something to focus on that isn’t your depressing thoughts. It’s almost soothing, the petting and the hug and the humming. 

You don’t know how long you sob into him, but when you stop, his humming stops too. He still holds you close, just lets go of your head so you can lean back a little and look up at him. He’s brows furrow in concern and he pouts at your post-crying face. 

“Are you okay? Am I really that bad of company?” He tries for funny but you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him. Just pout and push his semi-wet chest. “Seriously Y/N, i’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong?” Those two words. 

What’s wrong?

What’s wrong? I fell for my boss and now he’s doing it with some girl and I can’t stop thinking about them and it’s killing me because before I could live with being his friend and PA because at least there was some sliver of a chance but now there’s nothing because he has someone and I have no one and I can’t breathe because oh my god I love him. I love that stupid fool and i’m nothing but his personal assistant. 

It’s quiet for a minute, too quiet, and that’s when you realize you said all that out loud. You look up at Charlie, which was a mistake because his face is full of pity. It’s all sad puppy eyes and “Shit Y/N i’m so sorry.” A fresh wave of tears make their way out of your eyes, but Charlie is quick to wipe them away. 

“Y/N I didn’t know I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said all of that, God I was so stupid.” And then it’s like a whole new flood gate opens, this one full of laughter though. You start with a chuckle, but soon it’s full out belly laughing. Because Charlie isn’t the stupid one here. “I’m the stupid one. I mean, how idiotic does a PA have to be to fall for the one they’re in charge of? Never mix work with pleasure. It’s PA-ing 101, don’t fall for your boss. I’m so fucking stupid to ever fall for him or think he’d like me back because i’m just his stupid PA who has no talent what so ever, never has a good hair day, can’t go a day without eating their weight in sugar, and will never see him again after filming is wrapped.” Your laughing dies down by the end, and then ends completely when you see the look on Charlie’s face. It’s not exactly pity, but it’s not exactly sadness either. It’s hard to describe what exactly it is, but it’s not good. 

“Y/N. Babes. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay? I swear to God next time I hear anything like that come out of your mouth again, I’m hitting you with a pillow.” You giggle, but he stays serious. “Dead ass Y/N. Listen, was it probably not the smartest to fall for Owen? Yeah. But you didn’t know he had someone. I didn’t even know he had a girl and I’m his roommate. But, we can’t help who we like. It’s all brain chemistry and heart palpitations and whatever else. It’s something we can’t control. So don’t say you’re stupid because of something you can’t control.” 

“You’re being really smart and caring for twelve am.” You both chuckle, a real smile gracing your face for once in the past twelve hours. 

“I’m sorry for the breakdown it’s just, there’s a lot in my head right now and what you said really didn’t help.” Charlie sighs and pulls you in close. 

“I’m sorry babes. You should’ve slapped me or something.” 

“I probably would’ve had the breakdown at some point tonight anyway.” Charlie pulls back a bit to look at you, confusion on his face. “I kinda walked in on them making out earlier when Owen was late to hair and makeup.” 

“Is that why you crushed that brownie earlier?” You sigh and nod. 

“Y/N, i’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” 

“It’s fine Charlie. It’s, well, it’s not but, I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl. Besides, I have you to get my tears and snot all over right?” He groans while you giggle, but he isn’t really mad if the way he pulls you close and rests his face in your hair is any indication. 

“Always babes.” 

The next day you drive to set with Charlie who didn’t have to be on set at five like Owen, but joined you nonetheless. Taking his duty as your new ‘heartguard’ as he called it last night, you walk to hair and makeup with his arm around your shoulders. It’s comforting, even though he’s putting most of his weight on you because he’s exhausted, the coffee you gave him this morning clearly doing nothing to wake up. 

“Charlie, you could’ve stayed in bed until you were actually needed.” You laugh as he trips up the steps to the trailer, nearly face planting if it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around his waist last minute. 

“Char you good?” You hear BooBoo ask. Charlie grumbles something incoherent and shoves his face into your neck as you lean against the arm of the couch. BooBoo laughs, so do you, but quickly sober up when Owen walks in, Ashley on his arm. Charlie must have ESP or something because, without looking up at who walked in, he wraps his arms around your waist and murmurs in your ear, “Deep breaths. I’m here.” You do as he says, shooting Owen a friendly smile, but dropping it as he frowns at you. 

What is that about? 

“Glad to see you on time Owen. I wouldn’t have been able to break in this morning anyway because an octopus decided to break into my own apartment last night.” You ruffle Charlie’s hair as you say that and he grumbles some more, playfully biting your neck as well. “Ow. Asshole.” Owen frowns even deeper at that, while BooBoo chuckles. He get’s scolded a second later for moving. 

“So that’s where you disappeared to last night. I was wondering why you weren’t home this morning.” Owen’s voice is tight while he says it, Ashley noticing as well if the tightened grip on his arm is anything to go by. Charlie squeezes your waist as a way to say, ‘prepare yourself’ before he moves his head to lean against your shoulder so he can talk. 

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t have had to if you and your girl weren’t so freaking loud.” You tense up, mind starting to reel again, but a squeeze to your waist and a warm breath on your neck manages to bring you back. The trailer goes quiet, even the hair and makeup ladies tensing up and sensing the tension. Charlie, ever the wrong place, wrong time type of guy, grabs your hand and places it on his hair, then moves it back and forth. 

“Pet me.” Despite the tension in the room, you can’t help but giggle at the stupid Canadian boy wrapped around you. Apparently that’s all the rest of the people in the trailer needed to go back to what they were doing. That or they just didn’t want to get involved in young adult drama. You shoot a look at Owen, his jaw tense and hands clenched into fists. Completely ignoring the way Ashley leans up to kiss Owen’s neck, you open your phone and begin to read off his schedule for the day, your left hand still running through Charlie’s hair. 

“Hair and makeup at five AM, sit your butt down and let Shelly do her thing, costume fitting right after. First scene at six-thirty with BooBoo, you guys are doing the scene at the Orpheum where you talk about what’s been going on, you’re going to be sad so this whole frowny face you got going on? Keep it. A break after that then rehearsal with Charlie, Jer, and Mads for Stand Tall. Fitting for the Stand Tall suit is after that, but no actual filming for that scene yet, just getting the measures right so after that, you’re done for the day.” You take a deep breath after all that, BooBoo whistling at you from his seat. 

“You could be an auctioneer with how fast you talk.” You smile and bow your head at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment Boo.” He shoots you a smile and then raises his hand to high five Owen as he sits next to him. Owen ignores him. In fact, he stays silent throughout all of getting his hair and makeup done. Only smiling occasionally when Ashley shows him a meme on her phone. You watch them, the boulder in your chest rolling around as you do so. But not for jealousy, no, for concern. Owen is acting very unlike himself. You may be upset right now, especially with him, but it doesn’t mean you still don’t see him as a friend; still don’t worry about him. Something is wrong, and you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault. 

“So did it work?” You jump in surprise at the voice behind you, the cookie in your hand crumbling and falling onto the table. 

“Charlie! What did I say about sneaking up on me?” You turn to look at the boy who is smiling too wide at you for you to think this is about to be a completely innocent conversation. 

“Did it work?” He’s practically vibrating where he stands.

“Did what work?” 

“The cuddling this morning? Didn’t you see Owen? He was totally jealous.” And - what? That’s why he was so touchy this morning? 

“I just thought you were tired, that was - you were trying to make Owen jealous? Charlie what the hell? He has a girlfriend!” Charlie rolls his eyes and loops his arm around yours, dragging you away from the cookies and towards the costume room. 

“Yeah, but we both know she shouldn’t be. And the way he was acting this morning? I think he’s starting to realize that too.” There’s no way...right? No, the way Charlie described last night...no. 

“No, okay, he was probably just tired and angry about having to be here so early.” Yeah, that’s it. He was not jealous of the friendly cuddling you and Charlie were doing. Totally...not. Holy shit. You hear Charlie giggling in your ear as you enter costume. 

There, in front of you, is a very shirtless, very toned, very pretty Owen Joyner.

“You’re welcome.” Then Charlie is off to God knows where. Leaving you alone with Owen. Well, not really alone since Soyon is here too, running around looking for different fabrics and textures to throw on Owen. A still very shirtless Owen. 

“Oh, hi Y/N. What are you doing here?” Owen asks, looking at you though the floor length mirror in front of him. He’s not smiling at you, but he’s not frowning either, so improvement from this morning. 

“Oh, um, just making sure you got here on time. And look at that. You did! Good job.” You clap, who knows why, but it makes Owen laugh, which, whew, okay. 

“Yeah, I reminded him.” A voice behind you says. You turn and look at Ashley walking in, coffee cup in hand. She bounces up to Owen, ignoring Soyon and placing a big, wet kiss onto his lips before moving to the couch off to the side. Owen seems shocked by the PDA, which makes sense, you know he’s not big on that, remembering one late night conversation you both had a few weeks ago. 

“Anyway, Y/N, how does this one looks. I think the ruffles are nice. And then when he’s performing Stand Tall we can,” and then she begins to unbutton the shirt all the way down to mid chest and okay, seriously Soyon, now you just want to torture me. 

“I like this.” Owen says, twirling in the mirror like a ballerina. This causes the shirt to fling open more, showing his chest more in the process.

Deep breaths. 

Be a friend. 

You’re a big girl. 

“Yeah. It’s good,” you say, walking over to him to tuck to the sides back together somewhat. “Are you going to keep with the pink theme for the jacket?” Soyon smiles and nods, walking away for a minute leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley. 

“Should it really be unbuttoned that much? I mean, it is a kids show? I don’t want to share my boy with fangirls.” Ashley says. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling or the scoff that leaves your mouth. You watch Owen’s Adam's apple bob as he gulps. 

“Please, Charlie is sleeveless for a majority of the show. Owen showing a little chest isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Besides, Soyon chose good. The way the shirt fits and settles it’s never going to open all the way. Unless, ya know, he twirls like some Carolynn Rowland wannabe.” You smile up at Owen and inhale sharply when you see he’s already looking down at you. “And with the jacket on it’ll stay put pretty well.” You’re still holding the shirt in your hands, looking at Owen’s face as you talk. For a second, it’s just you and him, looking at each other, smiling. Then Soyon comes back and clears her throat. The trance breaks and you back up. You wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans before backing up and standing next to the mirror. You feel eyes on you and look over to see Ashely glaring at you. 

“Here we go. One pink jacket to match.” Owen slides it on and smiles wide. You have to say, it looks good. Professionally speaking of course. 

“Soyon, have I ever said how freaking amazing you are. I mean, this is really good looking. Very Alex.” Owen praises. He’s smiling and it’s a nice sight after this mornings debacle. 

“Alex is going to be the best looking one on that stage.” Owen looks over at you, his smile still there, and the boulder shrinks three sizes. 

“Still think the shirt should be buttoned.” Ashley mutters. But everyone ignores her, even Owen, who does another twirl in front of the mirror. 

“Well then, you’re all set Owen. Go ahead and change and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Soyon leaves, going off to do costume designer things, leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley again. Owen takes the jacket off, then looks around not knowing what to do with it. You sigh and smile softly, taking it from him.

“Here, just give me all the clothes and i’ll take them back to your rack.” He smiles thankfully at you, before frowning again and looking down at his outfit. Getting what he’s thinking, you chuckle and cross your arms. “Bub I just saw you shirtless it’s not a big deal. Now c’mon, give me the clothes before Soyon thinks you’re stealing them.” Owen looks up at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. It makes you take a sharp breath in.

“Maybe you should go. I can give the clothes to Soyon. Don’t you have assistant duties to do?” Ashley is right next to you as she says it. It makes your ears hurt and hands clench. You’re quick to unclench though, not wanting to wrinkle the nice pink jacket. Ashley moves forward to unbutton Owen’s shirt all the way, but he grabs her hand before she can begin. 

“Actually I need Y/N to stay. I have to talk to her about some, ya know, assistant stuff. And besides, she knows where Alex’s rack is and that’s where the clothes have to go. Why don’t you go wait for me in the trailer, I’ll be there in a few.” 

I need Y/N to stay. 

That shouldn’t make you feel as warm and tingly as it does. 

Ashley scoffs and looks away, clearly trying to guilt trip him. Owen sighs and kisses her cheek.  

“Trailer. Ten minutes.” Ashley sighs before nodding and finally leaving. He watches her go, then turns back to you when she finally disappears. You clear your throat and he looks back at you, face a bit red. 

“Um, hey.” You chuckle. 

“Hi.” He nods, and you sigh, walking so you’re right in front of him. “Seriously, O, you need to get this off because if they’re not on the rack for Soyon to fix up by the end of the day it’s my head on a stick, not yours.” Then you’re unbuttoning his shirt. 

You’re unbuttoning. His shirt. You don’t realize you’re doing it until you hand grazes his navel when you untuck it from his pants. You hear him suck in a breath and you immediately take two steps back. 

“Sorry, um. Sorry that was not, um, -” 

“It’s okay. You were just, doing your job. Making sure I get stuff done on time, right?” But his voice is wobbly as he says it and his face is as red as a tomato. You couldn’t have made him that flushed, not you? 

“Right. Yeah. Um, so, pants?” Owen looks at you with wide eyes. “I need to take the pants back too.” It’s quiet, but you know he heard you because he nods his head and begins to unbutton them. You suddenly feel very hot, very suffocated. You should’ve left when you had the chance, just let Ashley do this. You shouldn’t be here, watching as he pulls the velvet pants down his legs. Watching as he steps out of them and - oh God he’s falling. You grab his hand to help him but it’s too late, you both tumble to the ground. You’re on top of him, smushed up against his bare chest, faces centimeters apart, sharing breaths. 

“Sorry.” You mumble. You watch him gulp and look down. Down at wha - oh. 

“It’s, it’s okay. I’m the one that fell and pulled you down.” You nod, causing your nose to brush against his. You’re close, so freaking close that if you were to move not even a full centimeter, your lips would touch.

So. 

Close. 

“What. The. Hell!” SHit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You’re quick to scramble away from Owen, butt scooting across the floor to get as far away from him as possible. Owen jumps up, kicking the pants away then realizing that was probably not a smart idea because now he’s half naked in between Ashley and you.  

“Ash I -” 

“You were taking forever, wanted to know why. Thought you said there was nothing between you two?” She’s practically screeching. You know within minutes there will be a crowd. A crowd Owen will not want, his anxiety will not want. Ignoring his stuttering and the conversation in general, you push away the heat in your belly and the tingling in your spine and take a deep breath. 

Deep breath. 

Be a friend. Do your job.

You grab Owen’s clothes and put them in his hands, ignoring his speaking and Ashley ranting, you grab his hand and then hers, and shove them towards the back exit. 

“This is a trailer conversation, not a wardrobe fitting conversation. Leave, now.” 

“No, I have a lot to say -” 

“Listen to me, I’m trying to do my job and not get Owen in trouble. If you really care about him, you’ll take this conversation to his trailer. Now.” Then you shove them out the door before Ashley could screech some more. 

Deep breath. 

Do your job. 

You go back to the fitting area, only to see Charlie, Jer, and Madi standing there, looking confused. 

Deep breath.

Do your job.

“Hey guys. Owen just left. He and Ashley are having a date night.” Charlie gives you a look, but Jer and Madi nod, going to accept it, but Charlie has to open his big dumb Canadian mouth. 

“Why’d we hear screaming then?” Charlie questions. Jer and Madi look at each other, then back at you. 

“Oh, uh, mouse. I saw a mouse. Yep. Mouse. Anyway, I have to get this clothes hung up before they wrinkle, so excuse me.” 

Deep breath. 

Do your job.

You walk around the trio, gathering the suit and shaking everything out as you walk over to the Alex rack to hang them up. You hear the door to the room open and two sets of feet walking out. 

“Charlie, everything is fine okay? Just a little misunderstanding.” 

“Like?” You sigh and turn around from finishing hanging up the clothes. 

“Like...Owen kinda fell and when I went to help him I feel too...on top of him.” There’s silence then, 

“OH MY GOD! Y/N THAT’S LIKE FANFIC SHIT THAT WAS THE MOMENT! DID YOU KISS OH MY GOD TELL ME EVERYTHING!” He’s jumping up and down as he makes his way to you. 

“Ashley walked in.” All excitement stops.

“Oh shit.” You nod, walking past him to settle on the couch, pulling a pillow to your chest. 

“Yeah. And she started screeching and I knew Owen wouldn’t like to attention so I shoved them out the back door to his trailer.” Charlie’s arm goes around you, pulling you close. He goes to say something, but your phone ringing indicating a text from Owen stops him. You pull it out, opening it as Charlie watches over your shoulder. 

My trailer plz. 

Charlie starts shaking your shoulders, smiling like a maniac. “This is your chance Y/N go go GO!” you shake your head at Charlie’s antics, but leave nonetheless. 

Anxiety creeps up on you as you get closer and closer to his trailers, not knowing what you’re going to walk into. Him firing you? Saying you can’t be friends anymore? Ashley ready to claw your face off? 

Deep breath.

Be a friend.

You knock on his door. It opens a second later to a frantic looking Owen. Now you're anxious about him. Why does he look upset? Is he okay? He grabs your hand and pulls you into his, oh, empty trailer. Ashley is nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey, thanks for coming.” You nod, still looking around expecting her to jump out and slap you. “Um, sit. Sit, I have to talk to you about something.” You go to sit on the couch, but then remember what occurred there yesterday and instead lean against the counter. He notices but doesn’t say anything. 

“Yeah okay. What’s up?” You try to act nonchalant, but the anxiety is too high for that. ‘I have to talk to you about something’ never ends well. He walks over and sits on the bed pats the spot next to him. God, this can’t be a good conversation if he really wants you to sit. 

“Ashley and I were never...on here.” He mumbles. You walk over and sit next to him, blushing that he caught on to why you didn’t sit on the couch. 

“Must be serious if you need me to sit.” Owen takes a deep breath, another, another, and then there’s lips on your. They’re soft and nice and taste like carmex chapstick. 

“Mhm, Owen, what, what are you doing?” Your faces are still close together, both of you not wanting to back away yet. 

“I’m gonna talk. Okay I’m gonna talk and I want you to listen and not crawl inside your head too soon okay?” You nod, knowing in this moment you’d do anything to keep him this close. 

“I knew Ashley from high school. She started texting me a few weeks back and one thing led to another and she was calling me her boyfriend. I didn’t want it but it happened and I let it because it got my mind off a girl I shouldn’t like because it would ruin so many things. I didn’t know she was coming to visit and when she knocked on my trailer she jumped me and just kept going. And I just went along with everything yesterday because I’m supposed to be her boyfriend and I’m supposed to think about those things with her and I’m supposed to want those things with her, but I don’t Y/N. I don’t want those things with her I never did. I, I want them with you. I’ve wanted them with you from the moment you finally stopped being shy around me and dragged me from crafts by my ear to hair and makeup. You’re so amazing Y/N and I thought if I did anything I’d ruin this and ruin your career and I didn’t want that. I never wanted that so I went along with Ashley but I shouldn’t have because the whole time I was thinking about you. It’s always been -” You kiss him. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him. It’s a passionate kiss, an ‘about time’ kiss, an ‘i’m never letting you go’ kiss. 

You only break away when you can’t breathe, and even then you only pull away enough to breath in each other’s air. 

“She left. She’s gone. She knew I was never 100% in.” You nod, but you’re not really listening. You can’t hear anything other than your heartbeat. 

He likes you. 

Owen likes you.

Owen kissed you. 

“It’s always been you, Y/N.” You smile. It’s a big one that you have to hamper down by biting your lip. Owen smiles back, then you’re kissing again. 

And again. 

And again.

[axwalker]

If The World Was Ending: Even if he was wicked

Synopsis: When Bianca leaves her son without looking back, Drake has to live on the streets until he finds a home with Angelica Ortiz--Lexie’s grandmother and a foster mom. With the Ortiz, Drake finds a family and falls madly in love, until a tragic night changes everything, threatening the life Drake fought so hard to get.

To catch up (HERE)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Lexie O’Brien (MC) The Royal Romance.

A/N: This will be a very angsty, full of drama, small town romance.

Words: 4,120

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Lexie’s grandmother and mother.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child neglect, abandonment, sexual assault, prison and a very entitled, “evil” Liam

Due to the several trigger warnings and some of the subjects I’ll be dealing with, I will only tag people who actively asked for it. If you want to be tagged in the following chapters --or untagged, please leave a comment. 

Drake

2008

When I was 12 years old, my mother took off with my little sister leaving me in Cordonia with my father's best friend. I reminded her too much of my father, too much of a life she would do anything to forget. That "anything" included abandoning her oldest son. I'd like to say I was surprised, but the truth is I wasn't. Bianca Walker had never been a motherly woman. The only reason she had taken Savannah with her was that my Aunt Leona adored her. I was sure my mother would dump my little sister on her and never look back. I hoped that was the case, Leona despised me, but she was great to Savannah. 

A short time after that, Bastien passed away and my mother was nowhere to be found. That's when I started to go from one home to another. The first year and a half were the hardest ones. I lived with four different families, each one worse than the last. First, the Lockes, where the family barely talked to me. Then, the Ruiz that made me take cold showers and sleep on the floor. The Godwins where the “mother” used the check the state gave her to buy alcohol instead of groceries. And finally the worse, the Fields. They seemed nice enough when I met them. Not kind but polite. The first few weeks everything seemed normal. Then one day, I got in trouble at school, and Mr. Fields --the pastor of his community, beat me up to “teach me some manners.” His punishments became a usual thing after that. 

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I escaped. Better to be on my own than believe some family was going to love or adopt me. Obviously, there was something very wrong with me. My own mother had left me, and I had never found my place anywhere else. 

I lived on the streets for 6 months. I did all kinds of jobs. Not a lot of them were legal but there were few opportunities for a 14-year-old runaway kid. The most money I got was when I stole car parts that I got to resell to a gang called the Mercy Park Crew. The boss, Mr. Kaneko was fair and paid well enough. I could’ve kept living by myself if something hadn’t got terribly wrong at my last job. One of the boys from a rival gang decided to teach me a lesson and I ended up in the hospital with a concussion. A nurse called social services so here I am in a car with another social worker on the way for another foster home. It doesn’t matter, I know it won’t last anyway. 

When you’ve been in the system as long as I had, you learned to look for certain warning signs when placed in a new home. Drugs, ulterior motives, threatening fathers, drinking mothers. After an hour, we drove through a town looking like something straight out of a movie. Valtoria. I’d heard of it before. The family my dad had been protecting when he died lived there. The house we pulled up to, was a large two-story construction with dark brown siding and an immaculate green lawn. 

Joelle, my new caseworker had popped up out of nowhere in the hospital and told me I was coming with her. Just like that. From the way Joelle talked about the new place, I figured it was some sort of transitional home for rejects like me. Too old to get adopted and too troubled for anyone to voluntarily take on. I didn’t ask her anything else because I knew I didn’t have a fucking choice. Besides, I knew words don’t mean anything. I was a kid in the system. I went where they took me. Sometimes, I hated it. Sometimes, I really hated it. This time was different. In more ways than one. Usually, I was dropped off by my caseworker, and the people receiving me were about as excited as they were about junk mail. No one has ever come out to greet me before. As long as the woman at the door wasn’t sizing me up for a skin suit, it didn’t matter.

The social worker got out of the car as I grabbed the trash bag that I used to carry my shit around. She rang the bell, and a small, older woman opened the door. Joelle had told me in the car that the woman fostered several boys and I knew what that meant. She wanted the money the government gave her for keeping us. Well, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. If she wanted to cash a check at the end of the month it was going to cost her. I’d make sure of it. 

I had seen it all, but I still was caught by surprise when the tiny woman opened her arms at me and gave me a one-sided hug. A fucking hug. 

“I’m very happy to meet you, mijo,” she said in a strong accent. “My name is Angelica Ortiz but everyone here calls me Abuela. Grandma in Spanish.” 

The woman was deluded if she thought I’d call her grandma. She was obviously trying to impress the social worker with her fake kindness, hugs, and stupid names. I wasn’t going to be fooled that easily. 

I didn’t even answer her as we stepped into the house. Another woman, a younger version of the one staring at me was waiting for us in the living room. 

“Hi, you must be Drake. I’m Elena. Welcome.” She gave me a smile. Fake, I was sure but at least she hadn't tried to hug me. The older woman was talking to Joelle about me. Probably about my problems with authority, anger issues, and lack of communication skills. I knew my file by heart. 

I barely nodded at Elena, and the three women exchanged a look. “Let me take you to your room, Drake. You’ll be sharing it with Maxwell. He’s doing his homework with my daughter in our house across the street. You’ll get to meet all the boys and my daughter Lexie tonight.” 

She walked me to a room on the second floor of the house. It seemed clean and comfortable. Another ploy for the social worker. Two bunker beds with blue blankets and a wooden desk full of books were the biggest pieces of furniture. The left side of the room was covered in posters of who I figured were famous boy bands. There were a few of David Beckham, the only guy I recognized. Other than that there were clothes everywhere. That Maxwell dude was a fucking slob. Great. 

“I told Max to take down some posters so you can decorate half of the room to your liking; This is your room as much as it is his. He's usually much more organized than this." I notice she speaks with a sort of fondness. "It was picture day for the school yearbook and he took hours getting ready. ” 

I shrugged. I wasn’t planning to stay long anyway. I couldn’t care less if that Max kid left his posters on the walls or not. 

She glanced at my garbage bag. “Are those your clothes, mijo?” 

I scowled at her. I knew what mijo meant and I was nobody’s son. “My name is Drake.” 

She smiled. “Of course, Drake. So, are they?”

I didn’t bother with an answer. A nod was enough. 

“I cleared you this part of the closet, so you can keep them there. When you’re ready come downstairs; my mom and I will show you the rest of the house. The boys are out but we’ll all diner together tonight. Do you like Mexican food?”

I shrugged.

The woman smiled. “Shrugging is not an answer, mij- Drake. Either you like it, you don’t, or you haven’t tasted it in which case I can tell you, you’re missing out. Especially when mami cooks.” She winked at me as if we were friends or something. The woman was insane. “So, what is it, Drake?”

I’d never had it before, but she wasn’t going to tell me how to answer a damn question. “I hate it.” 

She frowned --clearly disappointed, and I almost felt bad for her. Almost. “I’m very sorry to hear that. We already made Enchiladas for tonight and we don’t waste food. You can tell us your favorite dish though so we can make it for you.”

I shrugged again. Generally, that's when the person talking to me loses her patience but Elena Ortiz only smiled at me again. “Think about it. Every Sunday night, we pick someone’s favorite and cook it. It’s really fun. Next Sunday will be your first here, so you get to pick. Mami is a great cook and she can make anything from a mean chocolate cake to the best cheese pizza. See you downstairs, honey.” 

Great. I’ve only been in this house for a few minutes, and I already hated it. The only thing worse than a home where you were beaten up as a welcome was a home where people pretended to care. My third foster home had been like that. Ms. Godwin had been all kind and nice at first. I almost felt like she cared about us. A week later, she had gotten drunk. For two days, neither I or the two girls she fostered had anything to eat because she hadn’t bought any groceries. I had to steal a twenty euro bill from her purse to buy food. She got angry and called the social worker who had come for me and taken me to the Fields. The worst home I ever lived in. 

I wasn’t going to go downstairs but I decided that if I wanted a chance to escape it was better if I knew the house. Before I could explore a little, I heard my name from what I assumed was the kitchen. 

Elena was crouching in front of the oven. “Drake has such sad eyes, mami. He’s only 14.” 

The woman that had asked me to call her abuela, answered as she chopped an onion. “This boy has been living in the streets for more than a year. Do you realize it? Pobre angelito. So young and he has already seen more horrors than most people see in a lifetime.” 

“Joelle told me that he had escaped from his last foster home.”

The older woman scoffed. “Home? If that’s how you call people that foster kids only for the money, they get in exchange. I don’t want to imagine why he fled those places." She turned to her daughter who had finished whatever she was doing in the oven and was drinking a bottle of water. "Stop watching me work, Elena and help me with diner, por Dios.”

Why was she pretending she didn’t care about the money? It was obvious. No one did anything for free. There was always a catch. 

“Dónde está mi venadito?”

“Lexie and Max are at our house doing homework, mami. Be careful, though, if Lexie hears you calling her “your little deer” she’ll kill you. The boys called her Bambi for months after they heard you the last time.”

“Nonsense. She’s my venadito and that’s that. You two will come to eat here tonight. I want Drake to meet everyone.”

Elena rolled her eyes but patted her mom on the back. “Yes mami. Lexie is dying to meet him, she and Max made a chocolate cake for him. I’ll call her in a minute. Where are the boys by the way?” 

“Bertie is trying to teach Leo how to drive. Poor boy, I hope he makes it alive.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Leo will be careful. Bertrand will be fine.”

“Oh, it’s not Bertie I’m worried about, it’s Leo. Bartie has no patience with him.” 

I left the kitchen before they said anything else. I was sure I was going to hate this stupid place. I was angry. More than angry. Furious. After a year of successfully running away, I was back in the damn system. Back in yet another home where people seemed to care about me in front of the social worker just to ignore me –or worse, once she left. I had to admit that my new foster “moms” played their part better than most. The old one had hugged me and the other one had given me a smile that seemed real. But I knew better. No one really cared for me. No one gave a shit where I slept, what I ate, or if I was ill or scared. Not that I was ever scared. I had seen everything. 

The front door was locked so I went to the backyard. I saw a small wooden house on top of one of the trees. I decided it was a good place to hide and be myself. 

I sat there for a few moments when I heard someone climbing the tree. 

“Hi!”

I looked up and saw a girl a couple of years younger than me. She had the biggest pair of brown eyes I’ve ever seen and was smiling at me as if I was her best friend. 

“I’m Lexie! I live across the street. I’m Angelica’s granddaughter. You’re Drake, right?” I didn’t think it was possible to smile more but the girl proved me wrong when her grin widened. I simply nodded. 

“Welcome! I know that it must be hard for you to feel at home because you like just arrived but you’ll love it here. I promise. Valtoria is great. We have lakes and the mountains and when it’s warm enough we can go camping all night. You’ll love the house too. I mean between you and me the boys are kind of a pain in the ass but they’re pretty great when they want to. Or when they're not teasing me. Especially Leo and Maxie. Bertrand is a know-it-all. He thinks because he’s sixteen he knows everything." She rolled her eyes clearly offended by the idea that someone could know more than her. "Abuela, that how we all call her because she’s Mexican and would murder us if we call her grandma, is amazing. I mean don’t get me wrong, she's super strict, and as my mom says the woman is never wrong but she’s the best person I know.” 

I blinked. I didn’t know a person could talk that much without taking a single breath. 

“Do you camp?” She asked as she folded her legs in front of her.

I did before. Before my dad died and my whole life blew up in a million pieces. Not that I would explain any of that to the chatty girl, so I just nodded again. 

“Great! It’s getting warmer and Leo wants to go to a new camping site next weekend. Don’t tell him I said this but he’s like the worst camper ever. I have to double-check everything he does but I don’t tell him anymore because my mom said it wasn’t nice.” 

I wondered how could someone carry a whole conversation by herself. I hadn’t pronounced a single word since the girl had shown up. 

“I want to be your friend but I can see we’re about to have our first fight.” She told me in a teasing tone. “You’re wearing a Liverpool t-shirt. We worship Barcelona in this house. Well, Abuela, Leo and I do. The others couldn’t care less about soccer.” 

I looked at the shirt she was wearing. It read "If they don't have soccer in heaven, I'm not going." 

She noticed I was looking at her shirt and beamed. "Abue said my shirt was disrespectful to God but mom thought that was dumb and bought it for me anyway." 

"Do you like soccer?" I finally asked. 

“Like it? I love it! Did abuela saw your shirt? She hates European teams. She thinks Tigres is the best.”

“Tirgues?”

She laughed, and the sound of it did something weird to my stomach. “Tigres. It’s a Mexican team. She goes crazy when they play.”

“What team you like?”

“Barcelona, obviously.”

“Liverpool made it to the finals of the last Champion’s league.” I pointed out. 

She shrugged. “They lost so it doesn’t count. Do you play?”

“Sometimes.” I tried not to show how much I loved it. It was something else my dad and I shared that had stopped when he died. 

“I play too. How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I'm twelve. Well, almost thirteen, my birthday is in May.”

I frowned. “It’s November.” 

“I know. I’m almost there.” She beamed. "I'm almost closer to thirteen than twelve anyway." 

“Do you always talk this much?”

She laughed and my belly did that weird thing again. “My mom says I was a parrot in another life. I talk more when I’m nervous.”

“You're nervous?” I liked that I could make her nervous but I didn't know why. 

She blushed and I liked it too. “A little. What happened to your eye?” 

“I got into a fight.”

“Wow. You can’t do that here. Leo is always getting into fights and abuela has to ground him.”

She sure mentioned that Leo guy a lot. “Is Leo your boyfriend?”

“Gross!! Leo’s is like my brother. He, Bertie, and Max live with abuela. We’re a family. You’re family too.”

Fuck that. No matter if the girl was sort of cute. I didn’t have a family. “No, I’m not. I’m not staying.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do; I swear. Plus, I need someone to coach me, so I can get into the school team next year. Leo promised he would, but he never has time.” 

“I suck.”

She shook her head and smiled at me again. “Somehow I don’t think you do.” Then she gave me a conspiratorial look as she pulled out something from her jacket pocket. "You can't tell my mom about this but I took this from her room." It was a white iPod. After scrolling a little through the screen she settled on The Beach Boys. She couldn't possibly know it but they were my dad's favorites. She passed me an earbud and we didn’t talk after that. We just sat together for a while hearing music until we heard our names being called. 

“That’s abuela. We should go. She hates to wait. Plus, I'm starving and we're having enchiladas. You'll love them.” 

Lexie ran to her house to --as she put it-- 'hide the evidence.' I went back to her grandma's house and stepped into the kitchen. 

“Drake, pass me the salt, mijo. It’s next to you on the counter,” Angelica said as she kept on turning the sauce she was making. “You like enchiladas?” 

What was with all these women asking me what I liked to eat? I leaned against the black counter while she opened the lid of another steaming pot on the stove, and stirred its contents with a long wooden spoon. I shrugged. I didn’t know if I liked it. But it smelled better than anything I ever tasted, so it couldn’t be all that bad. My mouth started watering, and my stomach growled. Come to think of it, it had been a while since I’d last eaten.

“You know, I know you feel weird now. And you don’t like to talk a lot. Soon, you’ll learn that this is a safe place. We aren’t gonna judge a single word that comes out of your mouth or any of them that don’t.” 

I suddenly felt like I owed her a verbal response in exchange for her kindness. Fake or not. Besides, I just knew the chatty girl I’ve just met wouldn’t be happy if I was rude to her grandmother. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled at my verbal response. “But just so you know. We do have a few rules in this house.” 

Here it comes. The catch. Angelica put the lid back on the pot and leaned over the counter on her elbows. “You just need to go to school, find a hobby or sport you like, don't swear, respect the curfew and keep your room clean. Every child in this house has chores but it’s too soon to figure out yours. For now, you only have to get to know us.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me. At that moment the timer of the oven rang and Angelica took a huge dish out of it. She covered it with more steamy, tomato sauce, sour cream, and grated cheese and put it back in the oven. At least, I might get some good food while I figured what I was going to do next. Because no matter how nice and kind everybody acted, I was not going back to school. I used to be good at it without much effort; I had friends and a soccer team. But I had missed a lot in the last two years. I felt dumb and stupid. 

Suddenly, the front door slammed open. “Cuidado muchachos! Be careful with that door against the wall, or you’re going be spackling and repainting this entire house,” Angelica yelled out. Three teenage boys filed into the house, followed by just as many apologies. 

“Sorry.” “Oops.” “It was Max’s fault.” “

“These are Maxwell, Leo and Bertie,” Angelica introduced. “Boys, this is Drake.” 

“Hi, man!” The blond one said with a shit-eating grin. “Abuela, Lena, you guys didn’t tell me you were buying a Liverpool fan.” 

“Adoption is not a purchase of people, Leo” the oldest one --Bertrand, corrected. 

“Yeah, cause if it was, then you got Leo from the clearance rack,” the youngest one joked, checking his reflection in the hallway mirror, smoothing back an out-of-place dark hair. “I hope you kept your receipt.” 

“Fuck, off,” the blond one replied with a middle finger. 

“Watch it, Leo,” Angelica warned. “Boys.” 

Max kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, abue.” She forgave him with a smile, then swatted at his hand with her spoon when he dipped his finger into the pot. 

“I’m glad you’re here, bro” Leo said. I stood, and he gave me a fist bump without touching my hand. 

“Me too! And we’re going to be roomies,” the kid named Max said. He grabbed a stack of plates from the counter. I followed him over to the long dining room table and helped set the table for seven people.

2020

I lost count of how many days I’ve been in the hole. It wasn’t my first time in here and it sure as hell it wouldn’t be the last. It was always the same routine. Days and nights blended into one making it impossible to know what day it was or how much time I had been in here. 

I have been in jail for six excrutiating years. I had known from the day I heard the sentencing that the only way I was going to survive was if I didn’t think about her. It was the hardest thing I had to do but after a while, my routine was running smoothly and when my head hit the pillow at night, I was too fucking exhausted. She haunted my dreams and my nightmares, but I didn’t think of her beyond that. Except for the hole. Locked up there, cold, hungry, and utterly alone her face, my memories of her were the only thing that helped me go on. 

I replayed in my head our first encounter, our first kiss, our first time. I obsessed about her full lips, her expressive brown eyes, her gorgeous smile. I could spend hours picturing every single corner of her soft delicate curves. Sometimes, I wondered if --maybe, I didn’t start fights in the hope of being sent to the hole where I could spend my time fantasizing about her. It was pure torture, but I couldn’t help myself. The memories I had of her, of us and our short time together were the only light in my otherwise bleak life. 

She still wrote me every week but I hadn’t open any single one of her letters. I didn’t want to know if she was moving on with her life or worst if she was waiting for me. Because that was what Lexie didn’t understand. Even if nothing happened and I was released in one year, I would never be that boy again. The Drake Walker she had known and loved was dead and she wasn’t going to like the man that had been left in his place. I was damn sure about that. 

Tagging:

@mskaneko

@burnsoslow

@kingliam2019

@kat-tia801

@petiteboheme

@tinkie1973

@twinkle-320

@thegreentwin

@forallthatitsworth

@marshmallowsandfire

@marshmallowsaremyfavorite

@princessleac1

@lilacsandwhiskey

@lovingchoices14​

@lovingchoices14​

@nomadics-stuff​

[professional-benaddict]

Double amputee Little!Peter oneshot

collab with @sugar-and-spice-parker

inspired by anon prompt and @starkersideblog

Daddies Stephen and Tony, +18 Little Peter, doctor Steve, nurse Bucky, Littles are Known, dark, noncon medical procedures, noncon body modification, post double leg amputation, whump, crying, manipulation, angst, 1.5k

No one knows, no one can see. Everything is normal. Peter is normal, and there is nothing to see. Except, there is, and Peter is not normal. 

When they get to the waiting room of the clean smelling clinic, Tony lifts Peter out of his stroller, revealing to the world his two stumps. At the sight, Peter gasps quietly, still not used to it. He tucks his angry face into Tony’s neck.

“Shh, baby.”

Peter knows his legs are gone. He understands that well enough. He just does not know why. Everything was fine two weeks ago. He was playing tag on the playground and running around like normal. Then, he was at the hospital. Then, he was taking a nap. Then, he had no toes. Peter knows his Daddies are in charge. They know what is best for him. Usually, he gets it.

He does not.

When Peter asks about what happened two weeks ago, his Daddies get a weird look on their faces. They say his legs were getting sick, and they had to take them away to stop the sickness from spreading. But, Peter had felt totally fine. He had been running, jumping, skipping and hopping. And now, all he can do is sit on his bum and wait to be picked up.

Peter likes to try and crawl, since it is the only way he can think of that might let him get back a little bit of his mobility, but Daddies always put him in timeout and give him early naptime for trying that.

Peter just does not get why.

“It’s for your own good, Peter.”

He does not know why.

Everything is for his own good lately. Whenever Peter has a question, more often that not that is the response he gets. And he knows the doctor will repeat the same thing to him today. 

After just a short wait, Peter’s name is called. They always go and see the nurse first. This time, it is Bucky who greets them, and suddenly Peter does not hate the idea of having his finger pricked. Bucky is nice, and he is like a little stream of sunlight that lights up Peter’s day. The doctor, Steve, is another story.

“Hey, Peter. How are you today?” Bucky asks, reaching out to pinch Peter’s cheek lovingly. Peter wiggles a bit in his Daddy’s arms. He wants down, but he cannot get down.

“Oh. A little fussy, then. That’s alright.” Bucky coos, escorting them through the halls and towards Steve’s office.

It has been two weeks since Peter had that long nap where he woke up after without his legs. Since then, he has been to see Steve lots, and Bucky too. Each time, the nurse pricks his finger to get a few drops of blood. Peter is quite used to it now and does not react much when Bucky pricks his little finger. However, what comes after is much worse.

Peter sits still on the little bed, the scratchy paper feeling funny against his skin because he is wearing shorts. Bucky is quick, as always, drawing the blood and then immediately giving Peter an Elmo Band-Aid. Bucky even kisses it for good luck, which is coincidentally the signal to Peter that Steve is about to come in.

On cue, the door opens up. Peter tries to pay attention to the fishies on the wall, or the clouds and hot air balloon painted on the ceiling. There are pretty things all over, and Peter forces himself to pay attention to them. 

Peter almost wonders if this is more for Daddies’ and Steve’s sake than his. The three caregivers chat animatedly and laugh heartedly. Stephen is holding one of Peter’s hands, stroking the back of it with his thumb lazily. Peter keeps his gaze locked on the hot air balloon, wishing he could fly away in it. 

“So, how is my favourite little guy? How’s the last week been since I last saw your adorable face?” Steve asks, going to wash his hands. Peter knows the doctor is not done yet. “Your stumps looked great last week, so I’m not expecting anything looking worse since then. Have your Dadas been putting on the cream like I told them to, hm?”

Peter does not bother answering, and instead gives a blank look in Steve’s direction. Of course his Daddies are using the cream. Why would he even ask Peter? He debates asking his Daddies for cotton candy when they are done. Maybe something sweet will help his mood pick up. Or give him cavities. Either or.

Steve laughs. 

“Oh, someone’s grumpy. Okay, okay. You’re a cutie, know that?” He teases, but Peter does not laugh. He wants to go home. He wants his legs back. “Alright, then. Let’s see how we’re doin’, kiddo.”

Peter holds onto Stephen’s forearm as Steve begins to remove the thin layer of bandages around his left stump. The incision is sealed, but the skin is still sensitive and prone to infection, so Peter has coverings when they go outside. Luckily, the raw smell of blood is gone now. The first week, it made Peter sick to his stomach every time his bandages were changed. He does not want to have to have his Daddy hold a rag soaked in peppermint oil up to his nose all the time anymore, so at least one good thing has come out of this appointment. Peter knows he is safe to breathe without feeling violently sick at the smell of his healing body.

“The ends are healing nicely.” Steve explains. “I’d say we can remove his stitches in a few days, then we can let him heal all the way. And you’re still certain you don’t want prosthetics?”

Peter tears his gaze away from the wall at that. The word sounds familiar, and he is pretty sure it means fake legs made of plastic and metal. 

“I get new legs?” Peter asks, sitting up. The boy has not been this vocal in weeks, and the Daddies give him a nasty look. 

Stephen helps him to lay down again, placing a warning hand on his chest. 

“We are certain. We want him just like this.” Tony says.

Peter whines. He wants new legs. He does not want to be left like this. Why don’t Daddies ever seem to care what he wants?

“Peter, no fussing.” Stephen threatens with a point and a glare. This same argument has been going on for too long. “Daddies know best, keep it to yourself and you’ll get cuddles in the big bed later.”

Steve is touching around his stumps now, pressing his fingertips around the incisions. Peter absolutely hates it. He is not quite sure where the sensation is. It feels like it is on his shins, but he does not have his shins anymore. Peter has to bite his lip to stop himself from crying. He is so desperate for some sort of comfort, that he holds onto Stephen’s forearm again.

“Oh, it’s okay, bubs. I know it’s scary. Just breathe.” His Daddy quells, but Peter can only tighten his hold. He wants this all to be over. To go home and get his big bed cuddles and have Daddies promise they will let him get the new legs and never ever ever have to see Steve again.

Peter is not sure if that is possible.

“Right, everything looks good. I think you can start weaning him off the bandages. Get him used to having his stumps uncovered. Keep them clean and dry still, of course, and use the cream twice a day.” Steve says, getting new bandages to cover Peter’s stumps. Tony helps by lifting what remains of Peter’s leg by the upper thigh. Peter despises the feeling. His legs should feel heavier than that. Longer than that.

In his own sense of despair, Peter lets himself cry.

Harder.

Then louder.

Soon, Peter can barely hear what is being said around him over the sound of his own misfortune. There is a ‘healing’, a ‘your choice’ and a ‘he won’t’. It does not make sense.

He tries to quiet, hoping to hear them a little better, but it barely makes a difference.

“Shhh, shhh, little one. I know. I know. Calm down. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” His Daddy says, and suddenly everyone in the room is cooing at him. Doting on him. Telling him how sweet he is and how nice it is gonna be once he has taken his afternoon nap.

It has not been a long day. It is not that simple anymore.

Peter is a limp and sad mess on Tony’s shoulder. The man’s swaying motions do nothing to calm him. Only the idea of new legs will comfort Peter now. 

“Same time next week then? All right, great. I’ll see you then. Get some rest till then, Peter cutie. Bye bye!” 

Peter does not bother answering Steve, let alone look at him. All Peter wants now is to sleep, so that just for a moment, he can forget about all this. 

[jjmaybanksblog]

Heather

Based on Heather by Conan Gray

Word count- 2126

Warnings: insecurities, angst towards the end, some body dysmorphia

Y/n: your name

Y/n/n: your nickname

Y/f/b: your favorite band

"I still remember, third of December me in your sweater."

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, pulling the long sleeves around your fists, clenching the fabric in your hands. JJ walked up behind you, easily wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his body.

JJ grinned at your reflection, chuckling as he saw your face glow a light pink. He released you and plopped himself on his bed. "I've been saving up all year to buy you something for Christmas." He brought up, sending the butterflies on a rampage in your stomach.

"JJ I told you you don't need to get me anything."

You said it looked better on me, than it did you. Only if you knew how much I liked you.

JJ slapped the spot next to him, waiting for you to join him. You shuffled over to him and laid next to him, him arm resting underneath the crook of your neck, his finger tips playing with the ends of your hair.

"You know you look really cute in my sweater. It looks way better on you than me." He complimented you, making your heartbeat start to speed up. "Shut up." You easily got flustered at his kindness.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you relaxed into his touch. You have known JJ since kindergarten and have been best friends ever since you shared your animal crackers with him.

As years went by, you began to develop feelings for your fellow Pogue. It would start with you blushing whenever he complimented you. Then your heart would race whenever he would hold your hand or hug you. To staring at his lips wondering what they would feel like against yours.

But I watch your eyes, as she walks by. What a sight for sore eyes brighter than a blue sky. She's got you mesmerized, while I die.

Y/n enjoyed the free food Mr. Carrara gave out to the Pogues after Kie had begged him. No one had actually eaten an actual meal in the last week. You and JJ were currently throwing French fries into each others mouths, horribly missing.

JJ loaded a fry in his fingers about to throw it, only to catch the eyes of a beautiful girl who walked by them. His jaw just barely fell open, his eyes following the girl as she walked by. You turned around to see what he was looking at, only to feel your self confidence drop down about 50 levels.

"Wow." He whispered to himself. "Yeah... wow." You repeated, fiddling with your fingers. "I'll be right back y/n/n." And with that JJ got up, leaving you with the rest of your friends.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty. You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester, but you like her better. Wish I were Heather

You and the Pogues decided to get together at John B's Chateau to just hang out. You were helping Pope set up the snacks in bowls and plates. Kie was setting up blankets and pillows on the floor. John B was stashing the bottles of alcohol in the fridge.

Everything was going beautifully until JJ walked into the house with the brunette girl under his arm. For a moment your heart stopped as you took in the sight of her wearing his sweater you wore earlier that day. "Guys, this is Heather. Heather this is John B, Kiara, Pope, and Y/N." JJ pointed out his friends to the new girl.

Heather grinned brightly, saying hello to everyone. The group collectively welcomed her, Kie's eyes quickly looking at you. "Excuse me, Pope." You flashed a fake grin before walking into the bathroom.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your finger tips lightly skimming the features on your face. Running you hands through your hair, you remembered the image of the girl in your head. You compared yourself to her in everyway you could.

You noticed how big of a thigh gap she had, and how you didn't have one. How she had a waistline that one could be jealous of. You looked at your stomach, and although it was flat, your mind pictured fat rolls hanging out.

A soft knock drew you out of your thoughts. Without even realizing it, you were crying. You opened the door to see Kie with a concerned look on her face. "Oh baby." She mumbled, entering the bathroom, opening her arms to give you a hug. She was the first person you talked to when you realized you caught feelings for your best friend.

"I have no right to be jealous, Kie. I shouldn't feel like this, but I do and I hate it." You sobbed into her chest, hating yourself to getting to attached to him.

Watch as she stands with, her holding your hand. Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder.

Kie stood with you in the bathroom, helping you calm down before walking back out to the rest of the group. "Everything good?" John B asked, knowing that it wasn't by the sight of your red nose.

"Yeah, yeah Kie was just helping me with something." You lied, grabbing a beer, then sitting in a chair. You crossed your legs, swirling your drink in your hand. Taking a swig of the alcohol you locked your sight on the new couple.

Your harsh glare softened as you saw just how big JJ's smile was. You watched as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, intertwining their fingers together. Heather rested he head on his chest, JJ pecking her forehead.

Your heart clenched, tucking your body further into your sweatshirt, ignoring the cold breeze that shuffled through the air.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel, but then again, kinda wish she were dead.

You stood up from your chair, walking past the couple and into the kitchen. You grabbed another beer, turning around only to bump into Heather.

"I am so sorry!" You quickly apologized, glad that your drink still had the cap on. "Oh my God, no it's okay!" She took a look at you, your insecurities starting to feel very visible. "This is totally random but you're literally so pretty! And I love your sweatshirt!" She complimented you, your eyes looking at your y/f/b sweatshirt.

"Oh thank you! I've loved this band since JJ introduced me to them." Heather grinned, her cheeks instantly turning pink at the sound of his name. "We should definitely hang out one day and listen to them together." She offered the idea. "Yeah! Yeah of course." You lied, handing her the drink she wanted.

You excused yourself outside, telling John B your mother had called you and you had to talk to her. You walked out into the cold, walking over to the hammock where you and JJ shared your first kiss.

It was freshman year of high school, the night of the homecoming dance. A boy named Kevin Richards asked you to be his date to the dance. You had gotten ready at John B's house since your house was being redone after a hurricane struck the OBX.

Dressed in a maroon silk dress with matching high heels, you waited for the boy to show up. All your friends asking if you wanted them to wait with you. You quickly shook your head, shooting them off to the dance.

Looking at the clock, 5 minutes turned into 10, 10 turned to 20, and 20 turned into an hour. You felt defeated, embarrassed, hurt, annoyed, and sad. Taking the heels off, you let out an angry shriek, throwing the heels out the door and into the backyard.

Meanwhile JJ was in his room, his ears perking up at the sound. Checking the clock, he thought you would've been at the dance by now. He walked into the living room, his eyes catching the outline of your silhouette sitting in the hammock.

He walked towards you, plopping himself in the seat next to you. "I thought you'd be at the dance by now." He said, watching you shift uncomfortably. "Kevin stood me up." You mumbled, picking the nail polish off of your finger nails.

JJ clenched his jaw in anger at your words. "It's his fucking loss. I swear I'm gonna fight him my foot is gonna go all the way up his ass. I'm so sorry, you look... you look beautiful y/n/n." You turned your head towards him to see him already looking at you.

He slowly leaned in, capturing your lips in his in a soft kiss. Your face quickly felt like it was on fire as he cupped the side of your face, stroking your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

You wanted to hate Heather. You wanted to despise her for being a horrible person, but in reality she was one of the sweetest people you've ever met, only frustrating you even more. You took a swig of your drink, the sound of footsteps coming up behind you.

As she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes. Brighter than a blue sky, she's got you mesmerized, while I die.

You lit a spare blunt JJ had hidden under the hammock pillow, inhaling the smoke before slowly relaxing. All you could think about was how happy he looked when he was with her. You wanted him to look at you like that, at one point you were convinced he looked at you like that.

But now things are different. And there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn't tell him how you felt, knowing how shitty that would be to put pressure on him. You don't want him to think you're making him pick. You just had to deal with it.

JJ appeared from behind you, making himself comfortable as he sat down next to you. "Why aren't you in there?" He asked, taking the blunt from your hand. "I got a call from my mom but then she just stressed me out so..." you lied, pointing to the weed.

He nodded his head, "so what do you think of Heather?" Your eyes widened as his sudden question. You bit your lip, holding in what you really wanted to say. "I think she's really lucky to have a guy like you. It's nice seeing you this happy" You smiled softly.

JJ pulled you into a tight hug, holding the blunt away from your hair. "You're the best." He grinned, pulling away. He handed you the blunt back, giving you a peck on your forehead before walking away.

Only he didn't walk all the way back inside. He could tell you were lying he knows you like the back of his hand. He could see your broken spirit through your eyes. He bit his tongue as he walked towards you again.

"You don't like her." He accused as he stood in front of you. You furrowed your eyebrows, coughing on the smoke. "I do, though."

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry? Hmm? Why did you disappear with Kie after I introduced her to you guys?" He asked, pacing back and forth.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half, as pretty. You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester, but you like her better. I wish I were Heather.

"I don't know what you expect me to say." You mumbled, standing up to face him. "The truth!" He raised his voice.

"You tell me the truth! Why did you kiss me the night of homecoming?" You yelled back, your arms crossing across your chest. He wrinkled his eyebrows together, "what?"

"Did you pity me? Did you feel guilty that I got stood up? Did you like me? Or did you just want to take my mind off things?" You integrated him. "What does that have to do with anything?" JJ was street smart, but sometimes completely oblivious.

"Because I don't understand why you would ever kiss me!" You started, JJ's stare immediately softening. "I'm not even half as pretty as Heather. She's... she's flawless. She has such a kind and good heart. And I hate that. I want to hate her but I can't." You admitted, biting your tongue.

"And seeing her walk in with the sweater I was wearing earlier today just felt like I was bitch slapped by the harsh truth. All I could think was, 'god, I wish I were Heather right now."

"It's just polyester y/n/n." His voice softened, stepping towards you. You instinctively backed away from him. "But you like her better..." you trailed off. He felt his heart shatter, watching and listening you admit these feelings.

JJ was left speechless, standing in his spot he didn't know what to say or do. "Goodnight, JJ." You mumbled before taking your alcohol and walking back inside.

Part 2 here

[shiishki]

okay wait, i changed my mind. you should answer all of these questions as well, if that's what you want from me >:)

oof there's a lot of it, that's what i get for wanting to be ✨aesthetic✨

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

vowels (and the importance of being me) - hunny

honeypie - jawny

pretty young thing - michael jackson

mirrors - justin timberlake

sunflower - red orange county

paradise - rude-a

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

a therapist.

ok someone else.. uhh,, my grand grandma because i only have scratches of memories but i dunno if that counts since she passed away...

*rummages through ancient scripts* uhh ok someone who isn't dead.. uhm,, tommie? yeah I'd like to meet them if i could meet anyone on earth

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

ok, the closest german, english or polish book? nvm i have english

"suddenly was. So I just said thank you a few times too, and Mum" ironically this is one of the normal lines in this book

4: What do you think about most?

the fact that I'll have to do something after school. and I don't know if i want to go to college or get a job bc i have no legitimate idea on what to do with my life. it gets overwhelming, just the lack of knowledge about the actual experience.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

Ok

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

with, tho i sleep with just shorts in summer

7: What’s your strangest talent?

not sure if it's a talent, but i can fall asleep anywhere

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

girls are pretty. boys are pretty

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

by me, yes. no one else has written a poem about me specifically. nvm, tommie wrote one and it shall rest on my wall, or desk, i need to find a place for it

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

uhh i think last month?

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

i don't think so, but i am hella afraid of the possibly gigantic, terrifying things in the ocean depths that humans haven't discovered yet

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

yep, beloved legos as a lil child

13: What’s your religion?

i can't ever remember the name, but i believe gods (from all religions) exist in some way or form. so i believe in different pantheons and etc.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

walking my doggo, skateboarding, thinking about how to make the lives of my characters worse

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind it.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

uhmm the arctic monkeys? or the strokes

17: What was the last lie you told?

i know what i want

18: Do you believe in karma?

yes, the rule of three specifically

19: What does your URL mean?

i don't know. it's something me and my sis came up with and that's just my whole identity now.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

uhh greatest weakness.. i can't finish things. strength is that I'm very stubborn so maybe I'll finish that thing out of spite

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

i grew up thinking crushes were like unicorns. my ex was odd enough to argue with that i didn't love her if i didn't have a crush on her. but I think if i had to guess.. selena gomez, especially in the role of alex russo in wizard of weverly street

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

nope

23: How do you vent your anger?

i write angry letters. sometimes they're sad letters. i write a lot of letters. except i never send them out and no one made a movie about them :}

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

jars and witchy bottles, books? scented candles

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

phone calls are stressful enough as is, i don't need you to see my reading off what i frantically wrote to not stumble over my words

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

i think so, yes, but that won't stop me from becoming better

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

hate flies buzzing right by my ear, love cat purring

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

what if I'd been born in a place where it was illegal for me (nonbinary) to live, in a time when others thought of me as a curse?

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

they be chilling.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

right arm, doggo, left arm, pillow

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

fresh air and doggo, because doggo is with me and I can't live without open windows

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

i dunno tbh

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

which one is less homophobic?

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

every gender is my opposite gender. selena gomez and justin timberlake

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

to make it easier for people down the line

36: Define Art.

make thing, thing goes woo

37: Do you believe in luck?

yis

38: What’s the weather like right now?

it's nice actually, very sunny, slight breeze

39: What time is it?

12.59 am

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

i don't, but i once crashed into a fire department vehicle with my bike. bike ded.

41: What was the last book you read?

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

i legit ass don't know what gasoline smells like.

43: Do you have any nicknames?

many variations of my name, aka. Luce

44: What was the last film you saw?

i think it was Robin Hood: King of Thieves, but it might have been that half of spider-man homecoming i managed to watch with my poor internet

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

oh man i dunno... it's not an injury, but i was very sickly as a lil kid and almost died :)

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

once, years ago

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

hmmm horizon zero dawn i think

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

proud pansexual ^^

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

not really, i don't think they're big enough to be actual rumors,, meh

50: Do you believe in magic?

yis

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

meh. they suck, i know they suck, that's it.

52: What is your astrological sign?

cancer ♋

53: Do you save money or spend it?

i attempt saving. attempt

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

for my own money, sweets. i bought lizards for my cats so they can brush their teeth from my dad's amazon acc

55: Love or lust?

luv

56: In a relationship?

nope, i buy my own cookies

57: How many relationships have you had?

1, kinda toxic toward the end, very stressful, don't recommend

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

nu ><

59: Where were you yesterday?

on the fields walking my doggo

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

yep, a pastel pink hoodie in my closet uwu

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

yis, thicc warm socks

62: What’s your favourite animal?

cats

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

cuddles and food.

64: Where is your best friend?

bold of you to assume i have a best friend.

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

tommie-hildebrandt, kageyuji, nekomas-kuroo, joyful-soul-collector

66: What is your heritage?

I'm a demon boi from Poland tho that's not a thing to be proud of, i mean, look at the economy. awful.

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

sleeping, trying to sleep.

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

Pinkton. or Satan.

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

this is such an odd combination of words i had to look it up. yea.

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

a friend who won't laugh at me when i ask them to order smth for me because I'm too anxious to.

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

excuse me? i am saving the doggo wtf. f u boss, I'm gonna sell my tragic story to the news.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) i tell my parents. b) live the hell out of them uwu c) nope uwu.

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

trust.

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

history maker - dean fujioka :]

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

3332

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

communication, trust, some more communication.

77: How can I win your heart?

let's not pretend to be something else to please each other, and bring some bitter chocolate.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

maybe. it could. i don't have a say in it since my sanity is held by tape.

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

eat the pizza. stop caring about others not liking me/parts of me. just living for myself uwu.

80: What size shoes do you wear?

uh i dunno how the american sizes work and i don't wanna look it up so, 39, 40 fits too.

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

demon boi

82: What is your favourite word?

socks.

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

the bloody organ that sits in your chest and pumps blood into your body so you don't die.

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

uhm im not sure if that counts as a saying, but fake it till you make it

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

blinding lights - the weeknd

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

oh a normal question people use for ice breaking, sea blue and pastel variations of it.

87: What is your current desktop picture?

like my wallpaper? or the actual picture that sits on my desk? or how my desk looks like atm? it's ugly, a lot of papers and pens and schoolbooks.

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

donald trump. or the next asshole who'll try to take the rights of the lgbt and poc away

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

this. this is the question.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

yo there's a pizza somewhere in the refrigerator, want me to heat it up? we can have a sleep over and talk about our feelings :3

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

telekinesis! or shapeshifting! i could do such fun things with telekinesis ^^ yeah I'd totally eat some radioactive veggies

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

that time my "friends" got me into shoplifting, half-hour is more than enough to punch some sense into my brain and develop good music taste

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

can i save this one? i don't think i have an experience horrible enough to be erased haha

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

sleep as in.. uh no thank u. but I'm down for a sleep over with sam smith ^^

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

just me? what about my pets? my fam? it's lowkey illegal for me to go just anywhere without them owO

uhhmm, greece. imma become part of the greek pantheon out of pure spite. and maybe toronto canada.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

not any that i know of o.o

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

i think i may have but i honestly don't remember

98: Ever been on a plane?

nope, i dunno if i like planes, but I'd probably sleep if i were on one.

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

yeet.

[amwritesitall]

Sally McKenna Playlist

Masterlist

I listen to this playlist so much it’s just ahh. As of the time I’m writing this, this bad boy is almost exactly 3 and a half hours long

Occasional little blurbs under the songs that are... interesting

Playlist link

“R U Mine?” by Arctic Monkeys

I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be And satisfaction feels like a distant memory And I can't help myself, all I Wanna hear her say is "Are you mine?" Well, are you mine?

How could I not put some Arctic Monkeys for Sally. They scream Sally vibes.

“The Cult of Dionysus” by The Orion Experience

I'm feeling devious You're looking glamorous Let's get mischievous And polyamorous Wine and women and wonderful vices Welcome to the cult of Dionysus

At first this song might seem a little weird, but it is quite the banger once you get into it

“I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don’t Want To Die” by Waterparks

I miss having sex but at least I don't wanna die anymore And I think that's pretty cool I miss seeing the red on your face when I made you blush, hey But I think it's fine, it's cool

This song is such a mood I can’t even. 

“summer depression” by girl in red

Pretty face with pretty bad dreams No one knows i cry in my sleep Waking up feeling like shit It's a normal thing to feel like this

I don't care I'm feeling down I wanna stay home Never go outside Summer depression comes every year I just want to disappear

Do you listen to girl in red because I sure do

“OK” by Wallows

I'm getting too close You say you love me most It's hard to trust it even though I want to Need to get this shit out of my head Before I flip this on myself instead

I’m in an unofficial girl band called Sugar Tits and this is one of the songs we’re going to cover. I feel like Sally would appreciate this.

“505″ by Arctic Monkeys

I'm going back to 505 If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive In my imagination you're waiting, lying on your side With your hands between your thighs

Stop and wait a sec Oh, when you look at me like that, my darling What did you expect? I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck Or I did last time I checked

This song SCREAMS Sally and I stand by that

“Gold Dust Woman - 2004 Remaster” by Fleetwood Mac

Did she make you cry Make you break down Shatter your illusions of love And is it over now do you know how Pick up the pieces and go home.

I can’t not put a Fleetwood Mac song

“Dontmakemefallinlove” by Cuco

I don't think I'm meant to be with you I don't wanna make you sad All the time just feeling bad Girl, don't make me fall in love with you I don't think I'm right for you I'm just disappointing you

Angsty Sally not feeling good enough

“Prom Queen” by Beach Bunny

Teach me how to be okay I don't want to downplay my emotions They say beauty is pain You'll only be happy If you look a certain way

Sally vibes, man

“3 Nights” by Dominic Fike

Three nights at the motel Under streetlights In the city of palms Call me what you want, when you want, if you want And you can call me names if you call me up

Hotel Cortez love affair with our girl Sally

“Marlboro Nights” by Lonely God

I don't wanna go to school tomorrow I can't study Thinking about you And you know I always do I don't wanna go to sleep tonight when I can stay up Thinking about you And you know I always do

This is teen Sally and it is not up for debate

“Paper Thin Hotel” by Matt Maltese

I listened to your kisses at the door I never heard the world so clear before You ran your bath and you began to sing I felt so good I couldn't feel a thing I stood there with my ear against the wall I was not seized by jealousy at all In fact a burden lifted from my soul I learned that love was out of my control

A lot of these songs I have cried to and thinking about angsty Sally makes it even harder not to cry. Picture poor Sally being trapped in the Cortez and having to witness someone she love be with another person. How can you not be sad thinking about that?

“Lonely Eyes” by The Front Bottoms

You've got me stuck to where I'm sittin' Lookin' at your eyes And I know I'm so pathetic I wouldn't move to save my life And they tell me that you're lonely It's no surprise When you walk around all day wearing those Lonely, lonely, lonely eyes

Lonely bb

“me & ur ghost” by blackbear

I'm not alone It's just me and your ghost And this cripplin' depression I thought I learned my lesson But, I threw out my phone And I burned all your clothes And now I'm not alone It's just me and your ghost

You could take this literally or metaphorically. I’d argue that it works either way.

“Cigarettes On Patios” by BabyJake

I was smoking cigarettes on patios I was throwing money in the air Maybe I should pick that shit back up Bet my night on love Here we go again

This song is extremely repetitive, but the vibe fits.

“Sex n’ Drugs” by Abhi The Nomad

Born faceless Please save me My soul's tainted It's how I've been born I've worn patience Please save me I'm more tasteful than ever before

Sally’s theme song and overall lifestyle

“Foreplay” by Jalen Santoy

First they tell you that they love you Then they ask where you coming from Like you the only one feeling how you feeling Then you lie just to make it sound appealing

I love you The things that cross my mind while I'm by myself I hate you These things go through my mind while I'm by myself I fuck you These things run through my mind while I'm by myself Well fuck you It's always on my mind, think I need some help

Find me vibin’ to this. Sally dealing with fake ass bitches.

“hot girl bummer” by blackbear

Fuck you, and you, and you I hate your friends and they hate me too I'm through, I'm through, I'm through This that hot girl bummer anthem Turn it up and throw a tantrum

Hot girl summer Sally

“1 SIDED LOVE” by blackbear

You're too busy talking over me to hear what I'm saying You're too high to realize I see Through the smile that you're faking You're so into yourself Everyone else is overrated And everything's changing Is your heart worth breaking?

I could cry to this. Actually now that I think about it, I have cried to this and Sally would too.

“Easier” by 5 Seconds of Summer

Is it easier to stay? Is it easier to go? I don't wanna know, oh But I know that I'm never, ever gonna change And you know you don't want it any other way

An angry vibe

“Wrong” by Ally Hills

I can't keep on living with a delicate mind If I make a coffee, can we act like we're fine? When we were tangled in the sheets And waking up in our bed 'Cause now you strangle me in my sleep And I wake up with you in my head

Oh oh Oh oh I thought you loved me

A sad post break up vibe

“Space” by Ally Hills

You don't even care that my clothes aren't there. You needed the hanger space. You don't even mind 'cause you don't waste time Filling in all the blanks.

I wish you were sad for a day so you would know how it tastes to be lonely I wish you would stay in for a night to see what it's like fading slowly

Another sad post break up vibe

“Liability” by Lorde

Baby really hurt me Crying in the taxi He don't wanna know me Says he made the big mistake of dancing in my storm Says it was poison So I guess I'll go home Into the arms of the girl that I love The only love I haven't screwed up She's so hard to please But she's a forest fire

Ok, but try to listen to this song while sad and not cry??? I could cry to this even if I’m not sad. It just comes on and I’m like “yeah bitch I am a liability.”

“All Girls Are The Same” by Juice WRLD

Ten minutes, she tell me it would take ten minutes To break my heart, oh no she didn't Fuck livin', I'ma drown in my sorrow Fuck givin', I'ma take not borrow And I'm still sinnin', I'm still losin' my mind I know I been trippin', I'm still wasting my time All the time given, am I dyin? Am I livin'? It's fuck feelings, my sorrow go up to the ceilin'

Heartbroken gal

“The Louvre” by Lorde

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush Drink up your movements, still I can't get enough I overthink your p-punctuation use Not my fault, just a thing that my mind do

A rush at the beginning I get caught up, just for a minute But lover, you're the one to blame, all that you're doing Can you hear the violence? Megaphone to my chest

CRASHING INTO LOVE WITH RECKLESS SALLY

“Writer In The Dark” by Lorde

Break the news, you're walking out To be a good man for someone else Sorry, I was never good like you Stood on my chest and kept me down Hated hearing my name on the lips of a crowd Did my best to exist just for you

Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark Now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark

Angsty song writer Sally

“Sims” by Lauv

I wish that you and I lived in the Sims We could build a house and plant some flowers and have kids But we're both at some trashy Halloween party downtown And I'll probably never see you again I wish that we lived on a VHS I'd erase the things I said and that I'll probably say again Hit rewind on all the times I got lost in my head But I guess I'll never see you again I'll probably never see you again

Ok hang with me for a second here. Sally leaving the Cortez in her one night of freedom. She meets someone at a Halloween party and they hit it off, but she doesn’t think to get her contact information or anything, so she spends the next year thinking of seeing the mysterious girl again.

“Everybody Talks” by Neon Trees

It started with a whisper And that was when I kissed her And then she made my lips hurt I could hear the chit chat Take me to your love shack Mamas always gotta back track When everybody talks back

Sally can take me to her love shack anytime

“prom dress” by mxmtoon

I can't help the fact I like to be alone It might sound kinda sad, but that's just what I seem to know I tend to handle things usually by myself And I can't ever seem to try and ask for help

I'm sitting here, crying in my prom dress I'd be the prom queen if crying was a contest

The last line screams teenage Sally, but also Sally now too?

“i hope your whole life sux” by blackbear

The truth yeah, is I've been up for days on cocaine The truth is I've been up for days tryin' not to think about you I hope that I'm the reason that you can't sleep I hope that your whole life sucks without me The truth is I've been up for days thinkin' 'bout you

Unhealthy coping mechanisms from our favorite druggie

Please don’t do cocaine. Cocaine ruin yo brain.

“Teeth” by 5 Seconds of Summer

Some days, you're the only thing I know Only thing that's burning when the nights grow cold Can't look away, can't look away Beg you to stay, beg you to stay, yeah Sometimes, you're a stranger in my bed Don't know if you love me or you want me dead Push me away, push me away Then beg me to stay, beg me to stay

Spicy Sally

“Fuck Up” by Tana Mongeau

'Cause I'm a fuck up, and I'm so fucked up And all these voices in my head won't shut the fuck up 'Cause I'm a fuck up, and I'm so fucked up And it's 5 p.m. and I just woke the fuck up

This song is me, but also Sally. 

“hell is where i dreamt of u and woke up alone” by blackbear

I'm in need of moderation Nah, I need a fucking break 'Cause I just railed down enough lines tonight To spell your first and last name

And it's all because I dreamt of you And woke up alone What a wonderful tone To bring you back home

I don’t even do cocaine, but this shit strikes something within me

“Idfc” by blackbear

Tell me pretty lies Look me in the face Tell me that you love me Even if it's fake 'Cause I don't fucking care, at all

Just tell Sally you love her

“Weekend” by Club House

I know you always say that you're alright But then you want to talk on the low And if you wanna a break, baby we can Hit the rooftop all alone Let me make you smile, baby all night Fuck around maybe get stoned You know that we can do it every weekend But you just wanna talk on the low

Care free loving with Sally

“Supplier!” by Crisaunt

Baby girl All of this fighting got me tired All this love that you desire All this effort you require I cannot be your supplier

I’m pretty sure I put this on here for vibes

“Model Student” by Grady

Growing up, i got used to laughs Suddenly JanSport really had my back I came into the world an outcast I didn´t dress the same I didn´t act the same But the popular kids Peaked around 17 And the only peaking i did Was looking for a fuck to give

Sally doesn’t give a fuck

“Life Inside” by Verzache

My life inside Wish I could get out and go ride a bike Head in the wind, and know what it's like And wear my ones like we did all the time Please, don't remind me 'bout my life inside I waste on my phone, sleep most the time Wake up to texts from girls I used to like Try not to text back, the light hurts my eyes Smoke 'til I'm knocked out

Trapped in Hotel Cortez Sally

“Haunt You” by Social House

Better off this way but I want you, want you, want you Sometimes I just wanna fucking Call you, call you, call you Never thought something beautiful could Haunt you, haunt you, haunt you

Shout out to @make--your--life--spectacular​ for telling me about this song because it is really good and fits Sally’s vibes

“if i could i would feel nothing” by blackbear

Underneath it all the truth is that I Really feel like shit I'm so sick of being tired I'm so tired of being sick

Post breakup Sally

“Crash and Burn” by Marc E. Bassy

Girl, we got some dangerous minds Every time we bring them together Nothing can take us off this ride Maybe we'll crash and we'll burn together

Sally is a crash and burn together kind of gal

“STFU” by mansionz, Spark Master Tape

Shut the fuck up right now and let me breathe Shut the fuck up right now, let me do my thing Slow down, slow down, slow down Quit hitting my phone up, quit hitting my phone up Quit hitting my phone, slow down

Annoyed Sally vibes

“fuck, i’m lonely” by Lauv, Anne-Marie

Fuck, I'm lonely, I'm lonely, I'm lonely as Fuck, come hold me, come hold me, come hold me It's been me, myself, and why did you go, did you go? Oh, fuck, I'm lonely, I'm lonely, I'm lonely, lonely, 

I miss those nights when you would come over Spent all night just tryna get closer That was June and now it's October I don't want, don't wanna get over

Fuck, Sally’s lonely

“If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)” by The 1975

"Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes I'm not playing with you, baby I think that you should give it a go" She said, "Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes I wanna see, and stop thinking If you're too shy, then let me Too shy, then let me know"

Sally is the “she” you speak of

“Instead of My Room” by Charlie Burg

We are simpatico Don't wanna let you go I wanna get to know (I wanna go out and see the new Star Wars with you) Play me another song I want to sing along Give my a melody (I heard the Hunger Games wasn't as good as the book)

Teen vibes, but also parts of this are talking about music and music is definitely a love language for Sally

“pharmacy” by Isaac Dunbar

Mmm, hurt me I kind of developed a taste for it Mmm, hurt me I want the pain between my lips

Feed it to me softly From your purple and blue fingers Constricted to only you To whom I seem to linger See me climb too high You cut the vine you had to hinder me

Prescribe yourself to me You're the only remedy Have me begging on my knees You're my pharmacy

Sally is into this and you can’t tell me any differently

“Daze Inn - Acoustic” by Carlie Hanson

We spent last night trippin' at the Daze Inn Lost in time like we got on a spaceship Tell me all your dreams when you wake up Carry me from the pool to the bathtub

Daze Inn = Hotel Cortez

“Last Nite” by The Strokes

Last night, she said "Oh, baby, don't feel so down Oh, it turns me off When I feel left out" So I, I turned round Oh, baby, gonna be alright It was a great big lie 'Cause I left that night, yeah

V I B E S

“Lonely Times” by Hot Flash Heat Wave

Lemme tell ya a little story fresh out of my dormitory I didn't know where things were going City lights felt like drowning in the ocean Late nights lying in my bed with all these thoughts swimming through my head Lonely times drifting in my dreams, I feel alright when I'm drifting, I’m drifting

Sally reminiscing on her times before the Cortez

“blackboard.edu” by Arlie

Don't listen to me I just need a good night's sleepAnd you keep me up all night Can't talk right I'm fallin' in my clothes And even though I'm feeling like death I can't be upset 'Cause I finally know

If you can’t tell, I love teen AUs

“7PM” by Lilacs, Lizzy McAlpine

I'm losing my mind I'm reading the news for the hell of it I'm wondering if she's on your mind Losing track of time I'm learning to cook for the hell of it And I'm wondering if she's by your side Tonight

Trapped in the Cortez and can’t go out and be with anyone

“i’m so tired...” by Lauv, Troye Sivan

I'm so tired of love songs, tired of love songs Tired of love songs, tired of love Just wanna go home, wanna go home Wanna go home, whoa

Sick of them damn love songs

“So Alright, Cool, Whatever” by The Happy Fits

How could you ever really know? If you never look You don't know what you'll find I've got an effervescent glow If you'd show me all the dark parts of your mind.

I wanna be with you. I wanna be with you. I wanna be barely hangin' on. 

Sally falls HARD

“Kilby Girl” by The Backseat Lovers

I overheard that she was 19 with a fake ID and a nose ring Those kind of girls tend to know things better than I do And I'm dying to figure out what she's hiding She's playing it cool but she's lying, better than I do

TEEN SALLY

“New Girl” by FINNEAS

I wanna scratch your surface I wanna feel your groove I wanna be your needle I wanna lick your wound You wanna play with fire? Stick and poke tattoo? You wanna play, my new girl? I wanna play with you

The energy, the presence, the vibes

“Chicken Tenders” by Dominic Fike

We settled but it never felt right 'cause we can't keep still And we try to fight the way everything feels When we step out of line I met your gaze and it was love that we were makin' And she spoke a different language There was no need for translation And I ordered chicken fingers to my room, girl But we got some things to do first

This song is something that’s for sure

“no friends” by mazie

I don't have no fucking friends Don't have fun, I don't break hearts I don't have no fucking friends

If less is more then I'm doing the most I'm so bored, and I feel like a ghost I don't wanna smoke no more 'cause I'm broke And my window won't open God, my life is a joke

Sally is lonely and needs love

-

You might like:  Poems that Remind Me of Sally McKenna or Cordelia Goode Playlist

[krreader]

BTS reacting to finding out you had a baby years after your break-up.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language genre: angst ; fluff word count: 2.2+k

a/n: tbh, I didn’t think it was very fitting to make this a super funny scenario since I don’t think laughing would be the first thing that you’d do after you find out something like this. I tried to keep it light-hearted though, I hope I kinda managed that.

ask box | masterlists | faq | twitter | ko-fi | REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

kim seokjin

Jin had found out when he saw you out on the streets of Seoul, for the first time in five years since you and him had broken up.

His heart dropped when he was instantly hit with all those past feelings that him and you had once had for each other, but then it completely shattered when he saw the child.

Around five years old.

Call it intuition, but Jin just knew that this boy was his. Maybe it was the fact that he looked almost exactly like him, or maybe it really was just his gut feeling.

Whatever it was, for the first time in five years he opened up your contact and sent you a message, asking you to see him.

And so here you were.

“Believe me.. I wanted to tell you,” you said honestly. You were on your own, figured it would be best this way, “But we broke up because you were too busy, Seokjin. A child would have made things ten times worse for you.”

“You still should have told me. I would have supported you, (Y/N).”

“I know,” you smiled a little, reaching over the table to hold his hand, “We didn't break up on bad terms, I'm not angry.. in fact, I tell him about you quite a lot. He doesn't know who you are, obviously, but.. I tell him his father is a great man. He'd like to meet you one day.”

“I'd like to meet him too,” Jin smiled, “Sooner than later, actually.”

min yoongi

This was all an accident. Yoongi never meant to look at Jimin's messages, but when Jimin went to the bathroom, he had just left his phone unlocked and that's when the message came in.

A message from you.

“Can we please meet today?”

Yoongi knew you and Jimin had been friends, but he didn't know you were still seeing each other after you and him had broken up about a year ago.

He didn't want to open the chat, but at the same time, he did. A part of him was furious, thinking Jimin might have started something with you. And yes, Yoongi was the one that broke up with you, so he had no right to be jealous, but he still was.

However, when he was hit with the messages, he realized that this wasn't about a relationship at all.

“You need to tell him, (Y/N). You know he'd help you,” Jimin wrote a few weeks ago.

“I know.. I will tell him.. one day. After I figure everything out.”

“It's his baby too.”

And that's when he dropped his phone and Jimin walked back in.

But to his surprise, the younger member looked calm, even let out a sigh.

“I told her she needed to tell you the moment she knew she was pregnant. But.. she thought she could do it on her own. And you know her, she can. She's stubborn,” Jimin sat down next to his hyung, “But she's struggling. Financially. Her landlord threw her out because the baby was crying too much and now she can't find an apartment. I let her stay in mine for the time being, but she doesn't want that anymore.”

“Why didn't you tell me?!” Yoongi asked angrily, “Fuck, Jimin, she had a baby! My baby! Why didn't you tell me if you knew?”

“I had to promise her I wouldn't. She said it was hard enough for you to break up  with her when you did. She knew the moment you knew about the child would be the moment you'd run back to her.”

“And why would that have been bad?”

“Because she knew that you weren't putting your band first anymore. And she knew with a baby.. your priorities would change.”

“And they should change!” Yoongi immediately got up, not even thinking about anything else but of you and this baby sitting in Jimin's empty apartment, probably scared and tired..

No, this wouldn't continue on like this.

You were surprised when you saw him, but also so relieved that you immediately started crying.

Yoongi wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, “I'm so sorry, (Y/N). I'm sorry I wasn't there,” he wasn't angry with you that you didn't tell him. He was angry with himself that he never checked on you again. Angry that he let others influence him to break up with you.. angry that he wasn't there for you when you needed him, “But I'm here now and I won't leave you ever again.”

jung hoseok

“Are you okay, mom?” Hoseok asked, his mother poking and shoving her food around which wasn't like her at all. Was she sick?

“Of course,” she lied, faking a smile, “Why wouldn't I be?”

But the reality was that she found out about something today that she wanted to tell her son, but didn't know how.

She had seen you going down the street with a toddler, a little girl around three years old. Three years. The time that had passed since you and her son had broken up.

At first you had thought about lying when she had approached, but it was no use. Your daughter immediately seemed to know who this woman was, was so open with her and smiled from ear to ear. And the moment the little girl smiled was the moment his mother knew.

“Why didn't you tell Hoseok?” she had asked over a cup of coffee later, your daughter sitting in her grandmother's lap.

“I tried to. Many times, actually. But I was scared.. scared that he wouldn't want her. Scared that he'd be angry with me. He broke up with me because he couldn't put me first. But I knew that if he knew about his daughter, he'd feel obligated to. And I didn't want that..”

“I don't know, you seem like there's something on your mind,” Hoseok continued.

She put down her chopsticks and looked him dead in the eye, “I think you should contact (Y/N) again.”

“What? What makes you think that?” he let out a laugh, “I haven't talked to her in three years.”

“Exactly. Three years is a long time, Hoseok. A lot can happen in that time.”

He didn't know what she was getting at that night. Only when he and you agreed to see each other again and a little girl greeted him at the door did he know what she meant.

“You should.. probably come in and sit down,” you said, a little worried that he might pass out.

But he didn't. He was strong. He listened to your every word. And he stayed that night.

And every night that came after.

kim namjoon

As far as Namjoon knew, you had moved away from Seoul after your break-up. He hadn't contacted you anymore after that, but a friend of his had mentioned you moving at some point.

However, now that he was in the country that you had moved to, he couldn't help but want to see you again.

Maybe meet up for a cup of coffee, talk about the good old days. You and him hadn't broken up on bad terms, you didn't talk to each other anymore because the break-up wasn't easy for either of you and you needed space to get over it.

But he was ready.. ready to at least have you as a friend again if that's what you wanted as well.

Who would have known that you wouldn't come alone though.

“Oh,” he said in surprise when a young boy extended his hand to him, “And who are you, young man?”

“I'm Alistair (Y/L/N). Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Alistair.

Oh god.

Namjoon immediately looked at you, you fidgeting nervously with her hands.

“What would you want to name him?” you had asked one night as you were lying half on top of him, still naked from what you had done earlier.

“Mh.. I wouldn't want a Korean name, I think,” he brushed his fingertips over your back, then grinned at you, “I always liked Alistair. It has this.. wisdom to it. Like the little genius that our boy would be.”

Namjoon gulped down hard, then shook the hand of the boy.

His boy.

“I'm.. Namjoon.”

Apparently, I'm your dad.

park jimin

Jimin and you were still talking to each other. Well, messaging each other. It was the usual small talk, how are you, how are things.. never going into any detail though.

It continued on like this for about three years.. and then you slipped up.

“What are you doing today?”

“I have an appointment with a day care today, hopefully they’ll take her, I’ve been trying to find one for weeks.”

And you only realized you had sent the text about an hour later when it hit you.

You had been so careful not to mention anything, mainly because you knew Jimin would drop everything, including his career, to be by your side. And you didn't want that. He had worked too hard for it.

When you looked at your phone again, you saw fifty three missed calls and a dozen more messages all from him.

He wasn’t stupid. You weren’t in this line of work, there was no other reason to go to a day care for you than to put a child in there. And usually, three years was the age to start.

That day you finally came clean to him.

Had no other choice really.

He went over to your place that same day and met his daughter for the first time. He was sad, but also very happy looking at her playing with her dolls and also trucks at the same time.

“She's beautiful,” he smiled.

“She is.. reminds me a lot of you, actually.”

“Can I.. play a bit with her?”

He didn't know the first thing about being a father, but he wanted to learn. He didn't know what the future had in store for him, but he wanted to be there for his girl. Even if he came into her life three years later than he should have..

kim taehyung

Taehyung was angry with Jeongguk. Angry because he thought him and you were together now. He had found out that you and him were seeing each other a few weeks ago but when he asked Jeongguk about it, he said that you and him were just friends.

But friends didn't see each other this often, or at least not when one friend was an idol and barely had any time.

That's how this fight had started.

“You know how much I loved her, how could you do this to me?!” Taehyung screamed.

“I'm doing this because of you, you idiot!” Jeongguk was normally not like this, but he was frustrated with the entire situation, “She's alone with an infant, she needs someone to..-”

And when he saw Taehyung freeze, he knew he had slipped.

His first thought was that maybe Jeongguk had knocked you up, but that wouldn't work. You and him had only broken up a year ago and as far as he knew, Jeongguk only started seeing you about five months ago.

So that could only mean..

Jeongguk thought about stopping him at first, but he was so exhausted himself. He loved you like a sister, so of course he wanted to help you with the baby, but he wasn't a father.. he wasn't nearly ready to be one.. and he shouldn't have to be, because this baby was Taehyung's.

It didn't take thirty minutes before he stood in front of your door, taking a step back when he saw the baby in your arms.

“He told you, didn't he?” you sighed, “I knew he would..”

“Why didn't you?!”

“Doesn't really matter now, does it? You're here.. so.. come in.”

Taehyung knew that the second he'd step foot into that apartment, his life would change.

And he didn't think twice about it, he did it without hesitation.

jeon jeongguk

Jeongguk and you had been young when you had dated. It's been so long.. he barely could remember most of it.

But now that Bangtan had ended and he was alone and lonely, he couldn't help but think back to happier times.

That's probably what made him drive over to your place.

But maybe he should have called first.

“Can I help you?” a young girl, a teenager, opened the door.

“Oh.. I'm sorry.. is.. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) not living here anymore?”

“She is.. MOM!” the girl turned around, making Jeongguk gulp down hard. You had a child now.. that was.. great, “There's some guy here for you.”

“Stop being so rude,” you quickly walked over to the front door, stopping when you saw who it was.

Jeongguk and you stared at each other for a long time, Jeongguk smiling, but you were genuinely just shocked to see him.

“Uh.. this is kind of awkward,” your daughter said, but she seemed to find this amusing at the same time, “Hey.. are you my dad?” she jokingly asked the question every time there was a man that you seemed to know, simply because you never wanted to tell her anything about her father.

Only that this time, you didn't pinch her or tell her to go away like you usually did.

This time, you turned your head to look at her and tried forming a sentence that never left your mouth.

“Holy shit!” your daughter looked back at Jeongguk, who looked at his.. daughter, “You are my dad!”

“I'm your what?” his eyes almost popped out of your head.

“Wait, aren't you like a former idol?” she grinned from ear to ear, “Oh my god, I can't believe this, mom. I always thought my dad was a total loser, but goddamn, you managed to get knocked up by an idol.”

Oh my god.

You were mortified and Jeongguk was just downright speechless.

This would be an awkward first family dinner together.

[sakuwriteshere]

Feelings

Title: Feelings

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Words count: 2566 words

Warnings: Mention of death, slight angst, feelings, violence

A/N: So this is what I came with the following anon request:

Hey if youre still taking requests I was wondering if u could do a Dean x reader who faked her death to protect the Winchester’s and she saves them years later on a hunt 

I don’t know if it’s near what the original anon had in mind but I hope they’ll still like it in the end.

Unbetated as always, so I apologize for any syntax or grammatical error.

Enjoy!

Feelings:

This was not supposed to happen like this. Dean always knew one day he would leave for a hunt and never came back from it, it was written in the job’s damn books. His mind was at peace with that fact since a long time ago but he wanted to go down swinging at least. Dying on the job, after a tiring and spectacular fight against the evil sons of bitches, with some big explosion if he was even a bit lucky.

At this rate anything would be better than what was really going on at the moment. Sam was knocked out, after being thrown into a wall, and Dean was glued to the opposite one, his angel blade deeply plunged into his right shoulder, keeping him in place. The demon, one of Crowley’s minions, was gloating right in front of his face, twirling the demon knife between his hands.

“You have to admit, it’s kind of poetic.” The demon’s black eyes roamed over the deadly blade, his fingers tightly wrapped around the handle as he pressed the tip against Dean's chest, right where his heart was.

“Just kill me already. I don’t think I can handle your boring monologue, it’s a real torture. And believe me I know what real torture is.” Dean grunted, the pain in his shoulder being unbearable, but he was not going to die without a bit of sass.

“I’m going to kill you and I’ll wait for your stupid little brother to wake up. Then I’ll slit his throat with this blade.” The demon taunted, his hot breath blowing right into Dean’s face.

Just as the demon was going to plunge the knife into Dean’s body, a long whistle resonated into the eerie night, breaking their concentration. Dean gave the demon a look, one that said ‘don’t look at me, it’s not me’ but the demon wouldn’t have time to wonder what was going as a blurry shape jumped on him.

The demon fell heavily on the ground, fighting the new threat and after blinking to get rid of the sweat beads falling into his eyes, Dean realized that the blurry thing was in fact a dog. A strangled scream came out from deep down the demon’s throat as the dog sank its fangs into the demon’s forearm, forcing him to drop the blade. Another long whistle made the dog step back, the wild animal keeping a ready to pounce stance, growling when the demon tried to move.

Steady footsteps could be heard, definitely coming their way as the stranger emerged from the darkness. Dean didn’t know if it was because of the blood loss, the pain or if he was dead already, but he was sure of one thing, his eyes were deceiving him. It was impossible.

Without a word, the newcomer walked towards the demon, petting the dog’s head on their way, the dog unmoving, watching the demon’s every move, ready to attack if needed. Dean winced under the pain, his body tensed as he held his breath, watching intently the stranger standing in front of the demon, an angel blade sliding out from their sleeve.

Sam’s eyelids fluttered open as an orange light shined on his right side, the demon’s last words being a strangled sound as it was killed. Sam sat on his butt, his back resting against the wall behind him as he waited for his vision to stop spinning. Bringing a hand over the back of his head, he winced at the painful bloody wound. Great, he certainly had another concussion. He froze when their unexpected savior finally turned around, revealing their face to Sam.

“Y/N?” Sam whispered, not believing his own eyes.

“Hello boys.”

***

After ditching the demon’s body somewhere nobody could find it, Y/N brought the Winchesters into her motel room. She gave Sam two painkillers and ordered him to keep the cold patch over his head's wound while she fixed Dean’s injuries. Fortunately it wasn’t as bad as they feared. The blade had pierced his shoulder neatly, avoiding any vital organs so it wasn’t life threatening.

Besides Y/N’s few comments about their injuries, the room was completely silent. Sam was watching their old friend, one he thought he had lost a long time ago, patching up Dean. His older brother grunting quietly from time to time. Whenever Dean made a sound, it was followed by a warning growl.

Sam watched the staring contest between his brother and the dog, finding it a bit funny. 

“Easy, boy.” Y/N commanded, her eyes deeply focused on her task as she wrapped Dean’s shoulder with a large gauze band. She chuckled quietly when both Dean and the dog huffed at the same time, both thinking the command was for themselves.

The tension into the room was palpable as Y/N put away her medical stuff, the three of them perfectly aware of the main topic she was so desperately trying to ignore.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat, trying to start a conversation. “What’s its name?” He asked, waving a hand towards the dog.

“Hunter.” Y/N replied, the dog’s ears perking slightly at the mention of its name.

She scratched the spot between its ears, a fond smile stretching her lips while doing so. The white and grey fur feeling soft under her fingertips as a pair of clear blue eyes were watching her intently. Hunter, a beautiful Siberian Husky had become her best and only friend through the years. She knew the name sounded easy, especially with her lifestyle, but Y/N had never been good with that kind of stuff. The dog being a wonderful hunting partner indeed, the name fitted perfectly in the end.

“You boys should rest. The room is paid for the night so you’re free to use it if you want.” She said, stuffing the few personal belongings into her duffel bag. She knew they wanted to discuss her sudden appearance and she wasn’t ready for the argument that would surely come with this topic. It was better to run away while she still can.

At least, she tried to avoid it, but did she really believe it would be that easy? 

“So that’s it?” Dean finally spoke. He’d been awfully silent until now, even refusing to look at her. He was angry, she knew that. Hell, she would be angry too if the roles were reversed.

“What do you want me to tell you, Dean?” She sighed, her shoulders dropping as she stopped what she was doing.

“Oh you know, boring stuff like I don’t know...How the hell are you alive?” Dean started to say sarcastically, his voice raising with his last words.

She turned around in a swift motion, facing him. “Hi Sam. Hi Dean. I’m alive. Good talk. Goodbye.” She said using the same tone as him.

Grabbing her duffel bag, she whistled, Hunter jumping from the bed right away, following her like a shadow. Sam stood in front of the door, blocking her only exit.

“We saw Noami killing you, Y/N. How is it possible?” Sam asked in a low voice, the memory still painful despite the years.

“She didn't kill me. Not really.” Y/N confessed, giving up. The moment the Winchesters had put their foot in this town, she knew there was no way to avoid that moment anymore.

“We saw it, Y/N.” Sam insisted, coming closer and ignoring Hunter’s warning growl as Sam’s hand wrapped around her forearm. “We saw the light, you- your grace exploding, even the shadow of your wings on the floor.”

Her face turned on the side slightly as a way to avoid Sam’s sad look, she tried to keep her voice steady. “I learnt a few tricks from my brother.” A short sentence, that was the best she could do. She could feel the knots in the pit of her stomach, she wasn’t ready to tell them the truth. Not all the truth at least. 

“But why?” Sam needed to know. Why did she suddenly feel the need to fake her own death?

“I had my own reasons. Now if you could let me go.” Was her cold reply, the lack of any emotions as she stared right into Sam’s eyes. If the brothers thought she didn’t care, they would let her go.

Her plan worked perfectly, she could see the hurt in his hazel eyes when he finally let go of her arm and stepped on the side.

The door opened when Dean’s deep voice stopped her in her tracks. “You can heal us before leaving. That’s the least you can do, don’t you think?” The anger was very audible in his voice. Dean was mad at her. There was even a possibility that he truly hated her.

Good. It hurt but it was exactly what she wanted. It was better that way. If they cared she would want to stick with them, and that was something she couldn't let happen. 

“I don’t have time for this. Sorry.” She said, hands curling into fists as she struggled to keep her emotions at bay. Without waiting for an answer she forced her body to move, she only needed to go through that damn door and her problems would be over.

“You’re really just like your family in the end.” Dean said loudly, making sure she heard him. “A big band of dicks.”

She knew he was going to say something hurtful, she was expecting it. However she didn’t count on the fact that she would react. She was so close and yet all her efforts collapsed because the freaking hunter said the only thing that would make her see red.

“Sam,” she called the youngest Winchester’s name through gritted teeth. “Would you take Hunter for a walk, please?”

The Winchesters had one of their famous silent talks, simply by looking at each other. After a subtle nod from Dean, Sam obliged, calling Hunter’s name, an eyebrow raised as the dog followed him willingly. Once the door closed, she turned around, facing Dean once again. If he was surprised to see the hurt in her eyes, Dean didn’t let it show. 

“I am a lot of things, Dean.” She agreed, her voice shaking as she fought against the tears. “But I am certainly not like my family. I cut all the ties with them the day I choose to fight them at your side.”

He knew she was right. Since the beginning she was at their sides. Appearing one day, out of the blue, telling them she was an Angel of the Lord and knew about the Apocalypse and what her brothers and sisters were expecting from the Winchesters. She told them she refused to believe that her Father wanted that for them and offered her help in their impossible fight against Destiny. Castiel assured the brothers he had faith in her, she was a good soldier and someone you could count on.

“Everything I did… I did it for you and your brother. I thought I wanted to protect Humanity but in the end, what mattered the most to me was to protect you.” Her knuckles turned white the more she clenched her fists, nails digging in her flesh. Any physical pain was more bearable than the stinging feeling that wrapped her heart.

“But you left in the end. So what was it for? Why did you fight with us for so long and simply vanished one day?” Dean had to ask her, because he’s been asking himself these questions since that horrible day.

The day he saw her die, Dean knew she did it willingly. He remembered the apologetic look in her beautiful Y/E/C’s eyes that day, while Noami held an angel blade right over her heart. He knew perfectly that look, she had given up.

“I watched you die, Y/N! I was the one who burnt your vessel and gave it a hunter's funeral!” Dean was screaming now, all the pain and sorrow he felt that day rushing out on the surface.

“It was just an illusion, Gabriel…” She justified herself, her voice dying in her throat.

“Yeah I’m aware now, thanks!” The medical supplies next to him went flying against the wall, as Dean unleashed his anger, throwing them everywhere, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.

“I just want to know why. Why?” He yelled, his uninjured arm holding her wrist in a painful grip.

“To protect you!” She cries right in his face, her emotions winning over her internal fight. “I had to. I was wanted, Dean. The angels were resolute to kill me or maybe worse. Me staying with you, I was like a target in your back. Faking my own death was the only way.”

The realization that she was crying hit her only because Dean voiced it. The hunter’s anger cooling down as soon as he saw the fat tears falling down her cheeks. He had never seen her cry. The brothers often joked about how she was in control of her emotions, telling her she was more a robot than an angel. So, to see her crying now, Dean knew something had changed. 

“It’s ju- just I’m not used to all these emotions yet.” She hiccuped, brushing away the ugly tears, only to let more fall down the next second.

“What do you-” Dean mumbled, mossy green eyes roaming over her face, his grip around her wrist loosening. “You’re human.” It was more a statement than a question. Once Dean had put all the little pieces together, it was easy to realize.

The reason she had sent Hunter first, why she didn’t use her powers to kill the demon or heal them, she did all of it because she was being careful. Because she was human and so she could die.

Y/N nodded as a silent answer and Dean was speechless. There were so many questions twirling in his brain. How? Why? When?

Dean didn’t know how to react when he felt her face nestled in the crook of his neck, both of her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she let herself completely go. The initial anger he felt about her betrayal left his body completely as he tried to comfort her, his arms circling her shaking body while listening to her complaints, telling him how hard it was to be human.

As he listened to her, giving her the time to calm down, Dean was thinking that maybe they could all go back to the bunker and start over where they had left. Despite how mad he still was, he would give anything to get his friend back. She was a good friend after all. A very dear friend if he was honest, and he would gladly help her with her new condition. Showing her the ropes and everything else she would need to be a real functioning human and even more if she let him to. 

Was Dean scared to die? Yes he was. Was he scared to end up in Hell, once again? Oh hell yes. But he knew he would go down swinging, no matter what. And if it means burning in hell for the rest of his life because he taught a former angel what the sin of flesh really meant, then so be it. He was more than happy to comply.

Pour Toujours Tags:  @drakelover78​​, @akshi8278​

[bakagamieru]

I don't think people are mad because of harry still being sad about zayn or whatever it is between them. Public image or offical narrative you name it but for some reason it's ALWAYS zayn who gets talked shit about and people at their "enough!" point me inclueded. 90% of theblogs I follow here are always critical about what's going on but after 5 years you want somethings to left behind. And at this point I can't help but ask would this mess still going on after all this time if it was not zayn?

General

There is every reason to believe that Zayn leaving is a stunt and that none of the boys ever had a problem with each other.  I’ve explained that in many previous posts, and the explanation takes up a lot of space, so I’m not doing it again here.  You can check out those posts in my Zayn Stunt Summary here: https://bakagamieru.tumblr.com/post/120840259353/zayn-stunt-summary

I think it helps to visualize this situation as a siege.  The human psyche is rather suggestible.  Even for strong, confident, self-assured personalities, it can be difficult to hold up against constantly being told the same lie from every quarter.  Sooner or later, people who are repeatedly told lies start to believe them, unless they’re very lucky, very aware, and very careful.  That’s the whole concept of gaslighting.  This has also been shown in psychological experiments where people have eventually been convinced they’ve broken bones that they never have just because they keep being told they have over and over.  

That’s why it’s important with this situation to keep reminding ourselves of the hard facts and work through every new development logically.  That’s how we survive the siege and stop ourselves from getting hypnotized into believing negative things about the boys just because we’re told negative things over and over again.

Direct Answer

I think the current badmouthing is about a sick and twisted promo strategy that all of their teams seem to share.

I suspect there would be a lot more negativity from Zayn’s side if he had proper promo.  No promo, no appearances, no performances, no interviews = no opportunity for badmouthing.  

Also, keep in mind that there are 4 people that can potentially badmouth Zayn, while Zayn is only 1 person to badmouth the other boys.  That’s obviously going to lead to more vitriol directed at Zayn than at the other boys.

Those two things (lack of promo, 4 v. 1 scenario) are probably part of the reason everything seems so unbalanced.

There’s also the fact that Zayn was cast as the villain from the beginning.  In the post I linked, you can find a post I made about why there were multiple reasons for that and why Zayn was actually the only person among the boys that could have been put in that role during this stunt.  Is there probably some racism involved in that?  Yes.  Is part of the reason that people are so willing to believe the worst about Zayn linked to unconscious racism?  Quite possibly, yes.

I know it sucks to see other people buying the negativity and feel like there’s nothing you can do about it.  The only thing I can say is that if you’re surrounded by negativity, it’s very difficult to see anything but the negative side of a situation.  

I prefer to think that most of the fans have been taken in by a targeted psychological strategy that relies more on repetitive misdirection than that most of the fans are blatantly racist.  And I really do believe that’s true.  I believe a lot of this type of racism is unconscious bias and that one day, hopefully a lot of people with these unconscious biases will at least become aware they have them and work towards trying to fix them.  

But no, in general I don’t think this negativity is still going on only because it’s Zayn.  I think it’s still going on because old 1DHQ still want it to be going on and keeps stirring the pot to make sure it does.  I think this is still going on because old 1DHQ still has some sort of hold on 1D’s public images, because the “feud” drama is being used for promo, and because the situation can’t really be fully resolved until the hiatus ends (and I predicted that before the hiatus began).  I had hoped that we might at least get friendly Zayn and 1D even before a reunion, but apparently that’s too much to ask for from the evil 1D overlords.

I, too, feel like shit every time this unnecessary negativity rears its ugly head. However, you have to either find a way to accept and move past it (which I do through reminding myself of the truth via logic) or you might need to remove yourself from the negativity.  If it’s dragging you down constantly, consider unfollowing blogs that post the news that upsets you or blocking the most common tags on the posts that upset you.  I know being told to ignore a bad situation isn’t the best, but for your mental health, it’s either that or finding a way to fight back that makes you feel better.

Showy = Putting on a Show

To me, the drama of this “feud” is just another reason to believe that nothing IS actually going on between Harry and Zayn.  Nothing bad anyway.  

When something is constantly being pushed in your face, it’s generally because someone wants you to see it.  More often than not, the things that are really scandalous are hidden in the entertainment industry and it’s the huge dramatic “feuds” that are constantly in the news that end up being all an act.

Character

Maybe I wear rose-colored glasses, but I’d like to think I’m a decent judge of character.  None of the boys are rude or spiteful enough to keep taking potshots, especially to gang up on one particular person, for years and years after a fight.

It takes a certain maturity to survive with as much grace as the boys have managed in the entertainment industry, and that sort of maturity should also lend itself towards mending a relationship after an argument / learning how to move on from an argument that can’t be fixed.

Former Friend vs. Foe 

Yes, there have been a few public scuffles with other celebs in the past, such as the Wanted, but that situation is different simply because no 1D boys were ever close to any of the Wanted.  A fight with a near-stranger is very different from a fight with someone you’ve called your brother on multiple occasions. 

The closer the people who are fighting are, the more emotional it is and the more hurt people get.  Being more emotional means being more likely to be very angry, but being more hurt means that you aren’t as likely to want to broadcast that very vulnerable, private feeling.  You’re more likely to want to shun the topic with strangers than vent about it, if you’re any sort of a private person.

If we know nothing else, we at least know for sure that Zayn and the other boys were very, very good friends.  You can’t fake the way they were together for the amount of time they were together.

It Was a Single Fight Supposedly

The story is that none of the boys are really in contact with Zayn, so according to that narrative, it’s not like there are ongoing clashes that keep any of the boys feeling like they need to keep commenting negatively about Zayn.  If you’re continually butting heads, it might make sense to keep complaining about the situation, but that’s not what we’re being told is happening.  We’ve essentially been told that there was 1 fight years ago and that’s been it aside from a small amount of supposed back and forth, almost entirely in print interviews initially.

Time and Common Decency

It’s been almost 5 YEARS.  What person with any sense of decency keeps bringing up a fight at every public appearance that happened 5 YEARS ago?  

That would be like getting in a fight with your good friend and then badmouthing them publicly at every gathering of your mutual friends for years.  No matter who was in the right originally, you’re just a jackass at that point.

Talking about something in private and complaining is one thing, but doing it in public?  That’s entirely different.  And the more time that passes, the more ridiculous it is.

Relevancy

Zayn isn’t even really relevant to any of the boys’ solo careers, so it doesn’t particularly make sense for him to be brought up over and over.  

This might be because the interviewers can’t seem to move on from 5 years ago, asking constantly about when the band is getting back together, if they’re getting back together, how is it different having a solo career, etc.  It’s been 5 YEARS.  Those questions have been asked and answered ad nauseam and it’s not like those answers have changed over time.  

Sorry, got a bit off track complaining about interviewers… Anyway, it might just be the interviewers being unoriginal, but their team clearly hasn’t blacklisted the topic which would be a more sensible and classy way to handle things given the situation and the amount of time that’s passed.  There’s no need to talk about Zayn at all really, and yet it keeps coming up.  It just makes all of them look bad, which shouldn’t be the image their teams want for them, and yet…apparently something is more important.

The Promo Connection

More than that, it specifically always seems to come up during promo, for better or worse.  Sometimes the mentions are more positive, but most of the time the narrative takes a sharp turn to the aggressively negative overnight. 

After ranging from positive to neutral when talking about Zayn for years, suddenly during Liam’s first round of promo, things turned quite negative (e.g., wouldn’t save Zayn if he were drowning) and again during this current round of promo (e.g., guess I can talk about this honestly now, etc.).  

After supposedly reconciling about 3 different times (while apparently having no contact positive or negative at all during these years?), Louis’ feelings on Zayn are apparently very negative (e.g. we’re too immature to ever make up) during this current round of promo.  

After not talking about Zayn at all, Harry was suddenly negative during his first round of promo (I think it was the Rolling Stone print interview, but I’m not sure) and brought it up negatively again, unprompted, during this round of promo on SNL.  

It’s not like Zayn ever HAS promo anymore, but when he does have interviews, there’s generally some sort of dig at One Direction somehow (pretty much all print interviews, of course).  

The only one to escape the pattern is Niall, but Teflon Niall is a real thing, enough said. 

It’s ALWAYS during promo for a single or album that things get nasty again.   My best guess is that their teams think that the “feud” = drama = attention = sales.  To me, it seems dumb, repetitive, unrealistic, etc., but I guess a casual fan or the general public wouldn’t follow everything they do, so it’s not as repetitive to that type of consumer.

Conclusion

I am 100% aware of how exhausting, frustrating, and infuriating this whole situation is.  There’s no need for the negativity, it makes no sense, it paints all of the boys in a bad light, it basically requires someone to assume the worst of Zayn in order to believe any of it, and yet there are tons of people who still do believe all of it without any critical thought.

This is why I still write posts like these over and over again.  I have to get those negative emotions out somehow, and the best way for me to feel better is by countering the official narrative by using logic.  It reassures me that even though I’m made to feel like crap about the situation, my initial and continuing judgments about the situation haven’t been wrong.  If you remind yourself of the actual proven characters of the people involved and work things out logically, it’s not dire like all the negativity makes it feel.

When things are loud, they tend to be for show.  That’s what this all is.  This negativity is for show, which means it’s not real.

TLDR;

The fact that there’s still so much public negativity between the boys and Zayn is unrealistic, and therefore suspicious, because:

the boys are too good to be acting like this

this supposed fight would be too intimate and painful to bandy about publicly like this

supposedly the boys haven’t been in contact and so all of this is over a single fight that happened 5 years ago

the boys are too smart to not know that acting like this makes them look bad

their teams have to be in favor of the badmouthing because otherwise they could easily have just not talked about it at all

there’s generally a sharp increase in negativity when one of the boys has single or album promo

there’s more badmouthing of Zayn because it’s framed as 4 v. 1 and also Zayn never has any promo

My conclusion from these points (and also from previous facts and experience) is that the badmouthing isn’t because 1D and Zayn want to be badmouthing each other.  Rather, the drama of the “feud” is being used for promo and possibly other purposes.  I firmly believe that if there were a real falling out, the 1D boys would have handled it far more gracefully than this, given the chance.  

I suppose it’s possible that there was a real fight and that the boys were forced to handle it ungracefully by their team, but I would point to Occam’s Razor.  The simplest explanation that fits ALL the facts related to this situation (from the time of Zayn leaving through now) is that Zayn was forced out of 1D as a stunt and that there was never an actual feud between Zayn and the rest of the boys.

So yes, this situation sucks, but no, I don’t blame either side for it because there are NO sides when there is no actual fight.  I blame old 1DHQ and I blame society in general and I blame the ignorance of the general public.  But I’m not here for them, I’m here for 1D, so I keep my head down and keep waiting for things to get good again.

[sun-kissed-star]

Could u write albert/race (platonic or romantic) w adhd!race (btw i l o v e ur fics)

thank u love, just for you here’s a fic of me projecting on race, ft. an asshole date and albert being a sweetheart

trigger warning: ableist language

~~~~~~~

“Come to the park with me on my date, he said,” Albert muttered to himself, swatting a branch out of his face. “It’ll be fun, he said.”

In any given situation, Albert would rather stab out his left eyeball with a spork than be a third-wheel on a date. It made him anxious and turned him from calm and collected to a shy, awkward mess in a matter of seconds. 

Apparently, all those things went out the window when Race was involved. Albert guessed it was fair, anyway. Race had met a cute boy named Kevin at a party, been asked out on a date, and proceeded to beg Albert to come with him. He’d barely talked to the boy and he was “too young and pretty to be murdered on a first date.” (Race’s words, not Albert’s.)

Besides, it wasn’t really third-wheeling. Not when Albert was crouched in a tree, watching Kevin slip his hand into Race’s. It was technically called stalking. 

“You having fun?” Kevin said to Race. They were sitting on a bench directly under Albert’s tree, and frankly, he considered it a miracle Kevin hadn’t looked up yet. 

“Yeah,” Race said, grinning at their linked hands. His cheeks and ears were tinged pink. “I love this park. When I was seven, my mom, my biological one, took me and my best friend Albert here. I don’t live with her anymore, I doubt she remembers it, but I broke my arm. I don’t even remember how. I mean, that wasn’t the last time I was here, that’s the only time I’ve ever broken something. My brother says it’s a miracle I haven’t cracked my head open from all the idiot stuff I do. He shouldn’t be talking, right? He’s usually the reason I do stupid stuff. Me and him went to this park a few weeks ago. Oh, his name’s Jack, I’ve got two brothers and a sister, all adopted, our poor mom. Have you met him? He was at that party we met at, but he was probably passed out on the couch.”

Race took a breath and looked at Kevin expectantly. Albert had followed the entire conversation, more than used to Race when he started rambling, but Kevin didn’t have the same expertise. He looked like a deer in headlights, scrambling to find an endpoint to Race’s story. 

“Um… you’re a foster kid?” he finally settled on saying. “Or, um, you’re adopted?”

Albert didn’t approve. 

“Yeah,” Race said. “Adopted when I was eleven. Did I mention that? Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to unload on you.”

“Um, it’s okay, you didn’t,” Kevin said. “So… what happened with your brother?” Race raised an eyebrow, and Kevin elaborated. “A few weeks ago? When you were here with him?”“Oh!” Race said, and he launched back into his story like he’d never taken a pause. “So, we dragged a trampoline to the base of a tree, and he dared me to jump off a branch and land on the trampoline. We didn’t have a helmet so we just used a pillow. Honestly, that was one of the times where I thought I’d break somethin’ else, but it was just that one time when I was seven. I had a huge scratch on my leg for a couple weeks and I’ve got a scar, but it’s not that bad.”Kevin laughed awkwardly and tucked his hands under his thighs. It was then Albert noticed that Race had pulled their hands apart and was gesturing grandly with one. The other was resting on Kevin’s knee. Race was a tactile guy, and Albert was surprised the hand hadn’t made its way to Kevin’s face. 

“You talk a lot,” Kevin said. 

Race smiled. “Ain’t the first time someone’s told me that, trust me,” he said. “You should talk to my teachers. They’d probably go on tangents longer than mine about me. My math teacher doesn’t like me ‘cause I always get the answer right, but not the way I’m supposed to get it, which is fuckin’ unfa-”

“Let’s get ice cream,” Kevin cut in, standing up suddenly and grabbing Race’s sleeve to tug him up with him.

Race smiled sheepishly as his hand moved to grab Kevin’s again. Kevin stuffed his hands in his pockets pointedly. “Okay, cool. Sorry. Just let me know if I start rambling like that and I’m bein’ annoying. I’m kind of an idiot.”

“It’s fine,” Kevin said with a grin so fake it hurt to look at. The kid was getting a solid two out of ten on Albert’s scale of “People That Deserve To Hang Out With My Friends.”

“Hey, I don’t have my wallet with me,” Race said, patting his pockets. “But I can pay you back for the ice cream. It’d be the gentleman thing to do, right?” He winked, sidling up to Kevin’s side to lean on him, and Albert forced a laugh back down his throat. 

Kevin didn’t think it was funny. When Race’s elbow raised to rest on his shoulder, he moved away. “You didn’t bring your wallet?” he said, frowning. “But I didn’t bring mine. We agreed to get ice cream a couple days ago, when I asked you out, and you said you’d pay. Remember?”

Race’s face fell when Kevin stepped back. “Oh… oh,” he said, realization dawning over his face. “Fuckin’ shit. I’m sorry, Kevin,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Albert wanted to jump down and give him a hug, but that might have had something to do with the fact that his back was permanently cramped from hunching over in the tree for so long. 

Instead of forcing a smile and saying “It’s fine,” which Albert had been expecting, the frown didn’t waver on Kevin’s face. “What’s your problem, man?” he said. “Like, I don’t wanna be rude, but you’ve spent this entire time talking about yourself and you forgot about something we agreed on two days ago.”

“I… dude, I didn’t mean to,” Race tried. “Sorry if I’m being obnoxious. I have ADHD and I’ve been out of meds since last week. I forgot to tell my mom, but she’s picking them up today.”

If anything, Kevin’s scowl deepened, which just made the situation worse. Albert could read Race’s stiff shoulders and fleeting eyes like a book. “That’s not an excuse, dude. I get that you’ve got memory problems or whatever, but we’ve all got our issues. Can’t you just… I don’t know, try harder?” 

“I -”

“Forget it,” Kevin muttered. “I’m not really in the mood for ice cream, I think I’m just gonna go home. I’ll text you or something.” He clapped a hand on Race’s shoulder. “See you later, Tony.”

From the look on his face as he walked off, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets, Albert had a feeling he wouldn’t be texting. 

He waited until Kevin had completely disappeared around the corner. He’d pulled out his phone as soon as he left Race alone, thumps tapping wildly on the screen. Albert could only pray there wouldn’t be rumors about “the weird, freckled kid that never shuts up” at school on Monday. 

He jumped down from his tree, a lot less gracefully than he would’ve prefered. Race jumped a foot in the air and whipped around as Albert sweared loudly, clutching his foot. 

“Shit, I forgot you were up there,” Race said. His shoulders slumped, and he looked more like a kicked puppy than a dejected teenage boy. “Sorry you had to listen to all that. Like, me rambling and then gettin’ ditched by Kevin and whatever.”

“Shut up,” Albert said. Hearing himself out loud, he quickly backtracked, “I-I mean, you can talk as much as you want. I just don’t want you to… you’ve said sorry too much today, Racer. It’s not your fault.”He stared intently at the hole in the toe of his Converse as he was talking, and when he looked up, Race’s eyes were red. He wasn’t quite crying, but his voice cracked when he spoke.

“Yes it is.” It sounded like he’d tried to sound angry with himself, to snap out his words like a rubber band against raw skin, but he just sounded sad. “Don’t play dumb, Albie. Kevin’s right. I talked about myself too much, and I forgot about somethin’ so fuckin’ simple, and I chased him away. Did you see his face?” he demanded. “He looked at me like I was a fuckin’ alien from Area 51, and then he left.”

As much as Albert wanted to say “Good riddance to him, then,” he didn’t think it would be appreciated. He stepped forward, Race sunk his head into his shoulder.

“I’m such an idiot,” he said, words muffled in Albert’s shirt. “And I kind of wanted that ice cream, babe, not gonna lie.” 

Albert gripped the back of Race’s neck wordlessly, knowing the pressure was grounding and comforting from how often Race did it to him. “Lucky for you,” he mumbled in Race’s ear, “I always come prepared. C’mon, dude, my brother gave me twenty bucks and I’m spending all of it before I step foot in my house.”

Race smiled against his shoulder. “What would I do without you? Seriously, would I be dead? I think I’d be dead.”

“No, you just wouldn’t have stories to tell about breaking your arm with me to asshole dates.”

“He wasn’t an as-”

“Race. You told him you had ADHD, and he told you to try harder and get over it.”

“I should’ve told him before so he’d know how much work I can b-”“If I told someone I had autism and they told me to suck it up and stop whining, would you deck them or not?”

Race lifted his head, silently pursing his lips together. “Okay,” he admitted. “He was kind of an asshole.”

Albert nodded solemnly. “The asshole to end all assholes,” he said. He was just trying to make Race laugh and they both knew it, but in his defense, it was working. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing Race’s collar and ushering him towards the sidewalk. “Chocolate or vanilla?”“Both. Extra sprinkles.”

“Damn. You know I’m paying, right? Maybe you’re the asshole.”

Race laughed again, throwing his head back and an arm around Albert’s shoulders, and for the first time in an hour, all was right with Albert’s world. 

TAG LIST

@booksbroadwayandbagels @tis-my-cigar  @harrynerd-blog  @crutchieee-morris  @seizetheimagines @juliet-the-smol @got-the-east-side  @i-got-personality  @internalscreaming012  @voice-foundshoe-lost @capncrutch @thatfancyclam  @jjjudeshitposts  @orphan-with-a-stutter @disney-princess-sized  @perpetualbedheadspier @bexlynne  @we-dont-sell-papes @the-woild-is-my-what-now  @you-thinks-wrong-romeo  @pitiful-ambitions  @purplelittlepup @imjusttheoutgoingsidekick @damn-too-many-fandoms  @cattt420 @savory-n-sweet  @thedolanspineapple @racescoronas@awwwwwwdang @bencookisagod @carryingthedaveyjacobs @disasterbisexualhere @maiawakening @racetrackcook  @aw-jus-let-em-try @suddenly-im-respecsable @the-dance-boi  @jessmuell25 @intoomanyfandomstopickaname @be-more-chill-evan-hansen  @marcusisaprettygay  @insane-tomato @tomscaprisun  @seasickdolphin  @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @papesdontsellthemselves @narniasfinestavengingsociopath @findmeintheafterglow

[that-70s-page]

Dear Friend | Part Three

Pairing: 70s!Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: The mutual pinings of best friends.

Words: ~1.3

Warnings: Angst, language, mentions of anxiety and abuse (blink and you’ll miss it.)

A/N: This one is a bit shorter, sorry. I was in a hurry writing it because school started last week. I promise there will be some good, hearty fluff coming up real soon, just not a ton in this part! ;) Gotta suffer through some icky plot to get to the goods, ya know?

As you climb onto the bus on your way to Roger’s studio, clutching a bag of take out Mexican food tightly to your chest to protect it from the bustling passengers, you hear a familiar voice calling your name from inside the vehicle. The sound makes you freeze in place, and you feel your blood begin to boil in your veins.

“Y/N!”

Your name sounds disgusting coming from those lips. How dare he try to talk to me, after what he did? He has no right, you seethe, turning your body away from the man’s desperate attempts at reaching you from across the bus.

You push your way through the crowd towards the back of the bus, earning a few choice words from the people attached to the feet you step on, but all of your focus is on getting as far as possible from your ex.

Lucas must have known I take this bus every week. Why else would he be here, let alone try and speak to me?

You fight back angry tears, feeling fragments of past emotions tumbling back from the vault buried in the depths of your brain. You had gotten over him, but you would never forgive him.

You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to block out his voice, and pray that he won’t approach you. Your prayers go unanswered, however, and you feel his large hand on your shoulder.

Unlike Roger, his touch makes your body freeze and your skin feel taught against your muscles. You involuntarily shrink away, opening your eyes and blinking away the shine before turning around to meet his gaze.

The moment you look back into his cold, dark brown eyes, you feel your heart stop beating and your hands begin to shake.

“Hey, Y/N. You look great, how’ve you been?” Lucas asks with a sickeningly fake smile.

It’s as if the last two years had never happened for him. He wasn’t the one who had gotten hurt, he didn’t have to suffer the months of crying and anxiety that came with a cheating spouse. Not to mention the fact that he got off scot free for laying his hands on you. He probably spent the last year sleeping around and not feeling any guilt whatsoever.

“I’ve been good,” you reply, voice dripping with fake sincerity. You hold his gaze, willing your hands to stop shaking.

He can’t do anything to me. We are on a public bus, he would never risk touching me with so many people around.

“That’s great. Where are you headed? I see you’ve already got lunch, so I’m guessing there’s no chance of you joining me for a bite,” he smirks, leaning in closer as you grip the paper bag so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“You guessed right. I’m going to the studio, I’ve got lunch plans with Roger already,” you fake disappointment, feeling a pang of satisfaction as you notice the flash of anger that passes through Lucas’s eyes at the mention of Roger.

“Not a problem, doll. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, c’ya Lucas,” your voice shakes with the effort of trying to hide your fear, and you desperately try to hold back the flood of anxious tears that threaten to spill over you reddening eyes.

 “Have a good lunch love, this is my stop,” he says, giving you one last sweep with his eyes. 

You shudder at the pet name, remembering how you had forced Roger to stop calling you that after you had ended things with Lucas, the word bringing back too many painful memories. It had taken months for you to allow Roger to call you that again, not wanting to associate him with Lucas in any aspect.

You can feel his gaze as he takes in your body, thankful that you had worn a baggy sweater rather than a cute top. His eyes roaming your body are enough to make you feel like throwing up, and you shuffle impossibly farther back into the bus to escape his invasive stare.

The moment you reach the bus stop closest to the studio, you feel a rush of relief pass through your tense body. You half walk half jog the last two blocks to the building, and reach the large glass doors sweaty and out of breath.

You fumble with the handle, balancing the paper bag of burritos and chips in one hand, and step into the warmth of the recording studio.

The familiar surroundings soothe your nerves, and you feel yourself regaining your breath. After collecting yourself and shrugging off your coat, you take the elevator up to the band’s level.

After what feels like centuries, the elevator gives a low ding and the doors slide open, revealing the messy but comfortable room where the infamous Queen creates their music.

Roger is sat on the couch beside Deaky, watching Freddie try to explain something to a very frustrated Brian.

Roger glances up from the argument and notices you standing outside the elevator doors.

“Y/N! And she comes with food!” he grins, jumping up from the couch.

“Roger! And he doesn’t get to eat all the chips!” you laugh, but fail to hide the shakiness in your voice.

Roger immediately picks up on your obvious discomfort and puts his hands on your shoulders.

“What’s wrong, love? Bad day at work?” 

You visibly flinch at the pet name, still shaken from your conversation with Lucas, and a flash of realization passes through Roger’s concerned gaze.

“Shit, it was him, wasn’t it? What did he do? That wanker better not have touched you, or I swear to God I’ll rip-”

“I’m fine, Roger, I just ran into him on the way here. He startled me, that’s all,” you assure him, but the tightness in your throat betrays you once again.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You don’t look fine, do you want to talk? We can ditch the boys and go somewhere else if you want,” he gives you a sad smile, taking the bag from your shaky hands.

“N-no I want to stay here. Let’s just eat lunch like normal, ok?”

He hesitates, but then nods and takes your hand in his, leading you to the small coffee table opposite the couch.

He pulls the food out and lays it on the smooth surface, giving the chips to you as a silent gesture of sympathy, and you shoot him a wobbly smile. You both eat in silence for a while, but you can tell by his fidgeting and frequent glances that he is trying hard not to question you about your unfortunate run-in with Lucas.

“Rog, he didn’t do anything, I promise. He was just his usual arsehole self, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it? How can you say that? Of course I’m going to fucking worry about it, he hurt you!” Roger’s voice raises an octave against his mouthful of burrito, and the only reason his sudden outburst doesn’t upset you more is because he looks ridiculous yelling with a mouthful of food.

“I know Roger, I know. But I just don’t want to make a big deal about it. We’re bound to run into each other, we both live in London. I can’t prevent our paths from crossing, as much as I’d like to,” you reason, waiting for him to finish angrily chewing his burrito.

He glares at the paper bag, fuming at the thought of Lucas speaking to you after everything that he did.

You love that he is so protective of you, but it can be problematic in certain situations. That, and it reminds you of the painful fact that he will never be the overprotective boyfriend you long to have. As much as he sometimes acts like it, he will always just be like your caring older brother.

“I get it, Y/N. But are you sure you’re ok? I just can’t believe he had the nerve to approach you.”

“I’ll be fine, he just surprised me. Now, can we please stop talking about him?”

“Sure, but-”

“Eat your burrito, Taylor.”

 Part Four!

Taglist: @benders-diamond-earring @brokenheartedjubilee @shutup-sorry @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @spaghetittiesbcimgay @lacontroller1991 @luvborhap @chlobo6 @turquiosenights @rogershoe

[scentedbygunpowder]

Wumptober 2019 Day 21 – Laced Drink Word Count: 2310 Author: Katie/Ally (scentedbygunpowder) Rating: T Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Heymans Breda, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery Summary: An undercover mission almost goes horribly wrong when someone laces Riza’s drink. Notes:  These are just all going to be drabbles I can expand on later. Warnings: Warning for near-assault. Don’t worry, nothing happens but it’s a close thing.

Laced Drink

~*~

Not all plans go according to plan. In fact, most don’t. That’s why it’s good to have a plan, and a back-up plan, and another back-up plan. But sometimes the plans go so awry so fast that you don’t have time to realize it until it’s too late to pull from a totally unrelated plan to adjust for the changes. And that is when bad things usually happen.

Riza Hawkeye had plans. She had always had plans. From the time she was a girl she had had plans. Most of those had been plans of how to do things without bothering her father, because she didn’t like disturbing him, but they had been plans. As an adult her plans were often more things like when she was going to do laundry, what to get from the store, how to stay safe while going out and having some fun. As a soldier her plans were often things such as finding the possible escape routes in any room she entered, eyeing places that snipers could be, and getting the Colonel to do his paperwork. Sometimes her plans got more specific, like when on a mission, and she often had plans on top of plans for that.

This had not been high up in consideration for her plans.

“Come on, sweetie, it’s not much further now.”

She tried to move, tried to push him away, or even respond, but all she got out as a mumbled “Mmm,” which was not very helpful. His arm was around her waist, and he had her arms slung over his shoulders, so he could hold her to him. She could tell that the skirt of her short red dress was riding up on the side he was on, and she couldn’t fix it. Her heels were getting all scuffed up too, and her loose hair was hanging in her face.

Riza didn’t understand how this happened. She was always so careful, even doing this undercover job she had done her best to be careful. But somehow this creep, who wasn’t even their target, had managed to lace her drink with something, and was now carting her off to who knows where. And whatever the stuff was that he gave her, it was getting stronger. She was having trouble concentrating now.

She had to do something.

She was armed, but unfortunately, that didn’t mean much when she couldn’t control her own body. Surely one of the men had seen her get taken or noticed that she was missing. Fuery was on look out, monitoring communications. Havoc, who, it turned out, could play an instrument surprisingly well, was in the small band this place kept. Falman was pouring drinks. Breda was outside, scouting out the area. And Roy was a patron, flirting with the pretty girls.

One of them had to see her go missing.

They were outside now, in the back alley. She wasn’t even sure how they had gotten there. It had garbage and trash cans, and the man had now shifted her from a pretend  helping grip to something a little more economical.

“You know, toots, for a looker, you’re heavier then you look.”

Toots. Barry the Chopper had called her that. Honestly, right now, she wouldn’t have cared if he had showed up to take this man down. How sad was that, that she would be alright with a deranged serial killer coming to her rescue. The man looked around, and then plopped her down in a bundle of trash bags between two dumpsters.

“Gonna have to take a break—Ride’s not here anyway, and it’s better to stay hidden.” He grinned at her, and Riza felt her blood run cold. “But while we’re waiting, a little look can’t hurt, can it?”

No. No! Riza tried to move, managed a faint sound with her voice and a twitch of one wrist. Where were the guys? They had to be here! They had to be nearby! The man reached for her skirt, sliding it up, and Riza panicked. But her panic did nothing for her, except cause her to breathe harder. He looked puzzled for a moment, then reached, pulling her gun out of her hidden thigh holster. He grinned again.

“Good thing I laced your drink extra. You didn’t respond as quick as the others and I had to add more. If I hadn’t you might have been able to get to this.”

He put it to the side, and then reached back towards her. She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. His hand had just touched her thigh when there was an unmistakable sound of his skull being cracked. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he pitched forward, partially landing on her. It would have been more, if the figure behind him hadn’t grabbed him up and pulled him back. It was Breda, and Riza had never been more happy to see the man in her life. He distastefully dropped the man to the side, then immediately turned his attention to Riza.

“Lieutenant!” There was worry and concern in his eyes, and she tried to respond, but couldn’t beyond a faint sound and twitch again. Comprehension bloomed in his eyes, and it was quickly followed by anger. “I’m going to pull your skirt down, sir, and then I’m going to get you out of here.”

She appreciated him telling her what he was going to do. He gently and respectfully pulled her skirt back down, and tucked her small pistol into his own pocket. The man he tied and gagged, and put into the dumpster, closing and locking it. Riza had watched him as best she could, although it was getting harder and harder to focus. He finally turned back to her, and stopped, a look of surprise on his face, quickly coupled with compassion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, wiping her eyes.

“It’ll be alright, Hawkeye. I’m going to get you somewhere safe.” He stripped off his jacket, and carefully sat her up, having to hold her that way as she had no control herself. He wrapped it around her, and then picked her up, determination on his face. “We’re going to get you some help, Lieutenant. Just hang on.”

It was becoming harder for her to concentrate. But she knew she was safe, even as the world swirled around her.

After that, things came in fits and bursts. Panicked and angry voices were the thing that she heard the most. Kain’s worried voice, and then it’s uncharacteristic anger. Quiet anger from Falman, who snapped out a few choice words. Disbelief and then anger from Havoc, and the knowledge that he was holding her hand, brushing her bangs back. And then Roy’s voice, filled with rage and deep with worry as he was suddenly there at her side, holding her hand tightly, clipped tones promising retribution. She had glimpses of them too, worried faces and anger in their eyes.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the worry became worse, and she could feel herself being moved again. The world swirled once more, and this time she couldn’t say or do anything. Nothing seemed right, everything seemed wrong, and the last she remembered was worried voices calling out her name.

Riza blinked her eyes open in the daylight. It was coming in a window nearby her bed. Only this wasn’t her bed. It took her a moment to realize that she was in a hospital bed. She blinked again, and realized the five pairs of worried eyes were looking at her. Her team. Her boys. They looked like they hadn’t slept, still in clothes from last night’s undercover operation.

“Hawkeye?”

It was Roy’s voice, and she turned her head to look at him. He was sitting the closest to her. He picked up her hand. “Hawkeye, can you squeeze my hand?”

She blinked at him. “…sir?” her voice was little more than a scratchy whisper.

“Just do it.”

She complied, squeezing his hand, and he looked relieved.

“What happened?” she asked.

“What do you remember?” Roy asked her.

She thought for a moment. “Breda was there—no, before that. There… there was a man. He was—“ she cut off as what had nearly happened came back to her, and she sucked in a breath, looking at Roy, and then at the others in the room, noting the various reactions of anger to that statement. “He… I think there was something in my drink. He was—he was going to—“

The thought of what almost happened sent a wave of panic through her again, and she felt her breath picking up drastically, and tears coming to her eyes again. Immediately worried, the boys jumped into action, helping to get an oxygen mask on her, and one of them taking care of the tears. She wasn’t sure it helped the panic, but it didn’t hurt it, at least. But still, she wasn’t one to panic, and she looked to all of them for answers.

“Last night,” Mustang started explaining, “that man put something in your drink. It was nearly triple a typical dose.”

“It was a paralytic,” Falman cut in. “One designed to cut nerve responses, typically to the voluntary nerves. In high doses, though, it can affect the involuntary nerve responses as well.”

“You had a high dose,” Mustang continued. “And the man was quick. He had you up and out of there almost before any of us could see you.”

“I could from the bandstand, though,” Havoc said. “And faked a coughing attack enough to get out of it. I made a beeline for the bar, supposedly to get a drink, but something didn’t feel right. I told Falman to bag the drink, and then I went to the back to put in a call to “Katlyn” there.” He indicated Kain.

“He told me to watch for you, because something wasn’t right, and to let Lieutenant Breda know. “ Fuery said.

“Meanwhile I had noticed something was wrong, but I wasn’t sure what yet. Only that you weren’t there, and Havoc looked serious,” Roy said.

“I started to look around for you,” Breda said, his face serious. “He picked a good hiding space.” A fist clenched, burning anger in his eyes. “I’m just glad I got there when I did. I wish I could have been there sooner.” He took a breath, clearly tempering his anger. “When I found you, he had your skirt flipped up and had you disarmed. He was clearly ready to go further, but I hit him with the butt of my gun. After that I put your skirt back down, took care of him, and picked you up, bringing you back to the apartment we were using. You were pretty out of it.”

“The Lieutenant explained to me what had happened, and I put a call into the bar to let the other’s know.” Fuery said, face serious, jaw set.

“I was able to leave first, faking the call as being from my sister,” Falman said. He was moving a little more stiffly then normal, and Riza could see his hands holding tightly to the edges of his sleeves.

“The band was through for the night shortly after that, and I left as well,” Havoc put in. His arms were crossed lazily over his chest, but it was clear to see the tension and anger to them. “It… It wasn’t easy seeing you like that, Riza.”

“I was the last to arrive,” Mustang said, before she could ask Havoc what he meant. “It was all I could do not to go torch that man there and then. Especially when you got worse.”

“Worse? What did I look like?” She asked, clearly confused. She knew that she couldn’t move, but she had no idea what she looked like.

“You weren’t moving, Hawkeye,” Havoc put in. “You weren’t moving, weren’t responding. Your eyes were partially open, but it was as if you weren’t there.” He paused for a moment, as if gathering himself. “And then your breathing started to slow.”

“Falman was the one who noticed it,” Fuery put in. “He said you weren’t breathing as fast. That’s when we decided to get you to a hospital.”

“Oh. What happened?”

Roy was looking at her now, pain in his eyes. “Remember what Falman said about the doses? Well you were given enough that it could have shut down every nerve in your body, no matter where it was. That process was starting. Fortunately, the hospital had something to help counteract it. They said you should be safe, but you might have some residual effects for a bit.”

“And the man?” she questioned.

“He’s been taken in,” Breda said, “on charges of drugging and kidnapping, and charges of attempted murder and rape,” he almost stumbled over that one, and all the men in the room tensed. Riza would have too, if she had felt she had the energy to, “of a military officer. He’s not getting out for a while.”

“And neither are you, Lieutenant,” Mustang said. “You’re going to stay here until you’re given the all clear by the medical staff.

He looked her hard in the eyes, expecting her to argue, but for once she didn’t want to. It was a shocking experience, and while it wasn’t where she wanted to stay, the hospital was a safe place. He still had her hand, and she gave it a squeeze.

“I think this time, I’m not going to argue.” She gave them all a dimmed smile. “Thank you. For coming to my rescue.”

Her boys just smiled at her, relief, worry, and anger still in their eyes. They were her boys, and she was their Lieutenant—and they were always ready to protect her if needed.

[wrennix062]

Let's get personal:

• 6 of the songs you listen to most?

You’ll Be Back (Hamilton), Car Radio (TØP Vessel), Soldier Poet King (The Oh Hellos), IDK You Yet (Alexander 23), Lemons (Brye), S.L.U.T (Bea Miller)

• If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Thomas Sanders

• Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

"Her smile faded, her chest tightened, and heavy blanket of anguis smothered her smallest joy."

• What do you think about most?

Whether or not the world exists

• What does your latest text message from someone else say?

Goodnight

• Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

With

• What's your strangest talent?

Uhm, I can identify any bird based on a picture (not that great a talent)

• Girls... (finish the sentence) Boys... (finish the sentence)

Girls are handsome. Boys are beautiful.

• Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Not that I know of

• When was the last time you played the air guitar?

Earlier tonight (i was listening to the phineas and ferb theme song)

• Do you have any strange phobias?

Agoraphobia (fear or large spaces/rooms, I always hated gym class)

• Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

One of those round flat LEGO dots

• What's your religion

I don't have one specific, though I lean towards a philosophy known as the Dao De Jing

• If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Birding

• Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind.

• Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Twenty Øne Pilots

• What was the last lie you told?

That I practiced piano

• Do you believe in karma?

It depends.

• What does your URL mean?

Pidgeon refers to Pidge Gunderson from Voltron Legendary Defender, 11206 is my favorite number

• What is your greatest weakness and strength?

Weakness - Emotions Strength - Music/Art/Writing

• Who is your celebrity crush?

Bex Taylor-Klaus

• Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?

No

• How do you vent your anger?

Writing angst

• Do you have a collection of anything?

Tiny screwdrivers

• Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Honestly it doesn't really matter. As long as I'm able to talk to them and hear them, I'm good.

• Are you happy with the person you've become?

More or less.

• What's a sound you hate vs a sound you love?

Hate - hail on my window or roof Love - pencil tapping

• What's your biggest "what if"?

What if the world as we know it doesn't exist and we are all living an illusion surrounded by other illusions that act as if they understand reality?

"I think, therefore I am."

• Do you believe in ghosts? What about aliens?

Ghosts, more or less. Aliens, absolutely. There is a vast and ever growing space beyond our knowledge, there is no way we're the only planet capable of harboring life.

• Stick your right arm out. What do you feel first? The same with your left arm.

Right - my nightstand Left - my wall

• Smell the air. What do you smell?

My dogs

• What's the worst place you have ever been to?

A mental hospital, visiting a family member. (No, it wasn't an insane asylum, this family member was dealing with suicidal thoughts and tendencies.)

• Choose - East or West coast?

East.

• Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

I am all genders and none, but of my opposite sex would be Shawn Mendes

• To you, what is the meaning of life?

There is none. You wake up, do things daily, go to sleep, and repeat until you die. You aren't meant to do things differently, some people are just considered better than others and actually make an impact.

• Define Art.

A way for others to interpret an individual's self expression

• Do you believe in luck?

Yes. The universe doesn't treat people the same all the time.

• What's the weather like right now?

It's storming outside, lots of thunder and lightning and rain.

• What time is it?

At the time of writing this question, 12:10 am

• Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

No, I don't drive.

• What was the last book you read?

"The Mysterious Benedict Society"

• Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Absolutely not.

• Do you have any nicknames?

One of my friends refers to me as Remus because I remind her of Remus from Sanders Sides

• What was the last film you saw?

"After The Dark" otherwise known as "The Philisphers"

• What's the worst injury you've had?

Between spraining my wrist and getting a two inch split on my scalp

• Have you ever caught a butterfly?

No, but I have held one and walked with it without it flying away

• Do you have any obsessions right now?

Chemical Engineering, learning Italian, Philosophy

• What's your sexual orientation?

Asexual - Panromantic

• Ever had a rumor spread about you?

Yes

• Do you believe in magic?

Not really, no (but I do believe in the paranormal)

• Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

The only person I know has done me wrong gaslighted me and made me believe it was my fault, so no

• What's your astrological sign?

Aquarius

• Do you save money or spend it?

Depends on if we're talking about video games or real life

• What's the last thing you purchased?

Starbucks White Chocolate Mocha

• Love or Lust?

Lust is fake. I will always and forever choose love

• In a relationship?

Nope

• How many relationships have you had?

Four

• Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

No

• Where were you yesterday?

At home

• Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

An old toy vault that I got at a book fair

• Are you wearing socks right now?

No

• What's your favorite animal?

It's between a lion, a snake, or a coral polyp

• What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

Use a super cheesy dad joke, it always makes everyone laugh

• Where is your best friend?

At home

• Give me your top five favorite blogs on Tumblr

Idk I don't really follow any blogs

• What is your heritage?

Italian, Danish, Norwegian, English

• What were you doing last night at 12:00 am?

Writing fanfiction

• What do you think is Satan's last name?

Grovum (don't ask me why)

• Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

I tried, I hated it

• Are you the kind of friend you want to have as a friend?

Not really, no

• You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss told you that if you are late on more time, you get fired. What do you do?

If I'm late all the time, it means I don't wanna be there. I'll search for my dream job, but right now there is an innocent life at stake and I can do something about it.

• You are at the doctor's office and she has just informed you that you have one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone that you're going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) I tell my closest family and friends. I want them to be there for me, but if I tell anyone I'm not close with, they will only pity me.

b) I will spend the rest of my time eating chocolate, drinking coffee like it's soup, and blending waffles, because doing something weird is doing something fun.

c) Not at all. Death is an inevitable concept. I would be sad, I would be angry, but I would not be afraid. There isn't a point to being scared of something you can't avoid.

• You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

I choose love. Living life without loving another person, whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial, would be torture. And for me, love is the same as trust, but trust is not the same as love.

• What's a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

"Sincerely Me" from Dear Evan Hansen

• What are the last four digits of your cell phone number?

9286

• In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

Equality.

• How can I win your heart?

Chocolate, a Ferris wheel ride at night, and accepting my sexual orientation.

• Can insanity have more creativity?

No. Creativity is always in the back of your mind. The same is with darker creativity. Insanity just brings it to the forefront or makes you act on it.

• What is the single best decision you have made in your life?

I decided that self harm doesn't help. I'm glad I did, or I could have landed myself in a hospital.

• What size shoes do you wear?

8 1/2

• What quote would be written on your tombstone?

"Life is a locked door. Death is the key.

Death is a locked door. Life is the key."

• What is your favorite word?

Infinitesimal

• Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word heart.

Red mixed with black and white.

• What is a saying you say a lot?

What can you do when you live in a shoe

• What is the last song you listened to?

"Heavydirtysoul"

• Basic question, what is your favorite color?

Green

• What is your current desktop picture?

Hogwarts castle

• If you could press one button and make anyone in the world explode, who would it be?

*thinks to self* does my sleep paralysis demon count..?

• What would be a question you'd be afraid to tell the truth on?

It's not a matter of which question, it's a matter of who's asking it

• One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn the light on to find you are surrounded by mummies. The mummies arent really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Offer them some toilet paper, maybe they're here because the ones at the supermarket are still sold out.

• You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they grant you a superpower if your choice. What is that power?

Shapeshifting

• You can re-live any point in time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half hour experience would you like to experience again?

My first time watching the first scene in IT.

• You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Fighting with both of my best friends

• You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

None. I'm asexual.

• You just got a free plane ticket anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Venice, Italy

• Do you have any relatives in jail?

No

• Have you ever thrown up in the car?

Yes

• Ever been on a plane

No

• If the whole word we're listening to you right now. what would you say?

F**k Donald Trump

[gunsnbowies]

together - roger taylor x reader

summary: a mistake on Roger’s part leads to the downfall of your relationship, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself

warning(s): angst, character injury, slight smut, drug use (not descriptive, just a mention of it)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: @bowieandqueen11  for the contest with the prompt ‘You could have died!’

There was little that brought Roger happiness anymore. He had lost you, the most important thing in his life. He had cheated, an idiotic lapse in judgement that haunted him like nothing else ever had. When he had gotten back from tour, John had done everything he could to get him to tell you. You two had been together for just under three years, how could he do this? It was all his fault.

If you don’t tell her, I will.

Roger never told you. He cursed John like it was his job. He remembered your face when you walked back into the apartment you two shared. You had come from lunch with John, and Roger knew as soon as you walked out the front door that things would be different by the time you came back. The look in your eyes shattered his heart to pieces. You knew.

I’m only angry because you didn’t tell me, okay?

That was a lie. You were angry because you had every right to be. The fact that John was the one to tell you just added insult to injury. The band had been home from tour for over a month, so there had been ample time for Roger to confess. But he hadn’t. Instead, he did everything he could to pretend like nothing had happened. You noticed things. He felt different when you made love to each other, and when he kissed you on the cheek instead of the lips when he left for the studio or a drink with the boys, you sensed something was off. John had told you with such sweetness, such a respect for your feelings and worry for you. He had said that it was his responsibility, as he had Veronica back home to be loyal to and just wanted you to know. He wasn’t doing it out of spite or to ruin your relationship, he was just genuinely trying to help. Roger didn’t see it that way.

I’ll be back for the rest of my things soon.

You had packed up a suitcase full of your clothes and other valuables, taking off to god-knows-where with Roger’s heart still following you. You went to Freddie’s, knowing he and Mary wouldn’t mind having you as a guest. He sat you down on a chaise with a glass of the strongest liquor he had in the house, and sat with you while you cried and voiced your sorrows. Freddie’s heart broke for you, and he stayed up all night to make sure that you would be okay. You loved Roger and he knew how much you were hurting, so he took no issue in taking care of you, like you had taken care of him in hard times and when he was sloppy drunk. He owed you, but more importantly, he loved you.

You’re supposed to be my friend!

Roger had lunged at John, eyes blazing and fist clenched, ready for a fight, but John just took a step back, hands out in a defensive position. Roger had just arrived at the studio for another day of recording, and he thought he had a handle on all his emotions, but the sight of the man who, in his mind, ended his relationship, was far too much to handle. He kept on towards John, fists swinging and voice straining as he screamed at John, Brian launching into action, arms wrapping around the midsection of the drummer, trying to keep him from getting too close to hurting John. Freddie watched in bewilderment, never imagining that Roger would get get that close to hurting one of his best friends. Roger seemed to recognize the errors in his actions, as he stopped fighting to get out of Brian’s arms. His mind was reeling, far too many emotions swirling in his mind. Sadness for having hurt you. Agitation at John for telling you what he knew. What Roger should have told you in the first place. And that’s what most of him was thinking about. He was angry at you for leaving and John for telling, but mostly, he was angry with himself. Angry that he had risked everything the two of you had worked for in a moment of drunken stupidity with a girl he didn’t even remember. Brian released him, sensing that he was no longer a threat to John, and Roger’s looked at the brunette bassist with eyes for sorrow, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” And with that apology, he ran from the room, his band-mates calling out for him as he went, but he didn’t listen. 

He sat in his car in the parking lot outside of your apartment, too fearful of the inevitable loneliness that lay behind its door to go inside. He sat there in silence, an hour passing as he rested his forehead on the top of the steering wheel, not even the radio on to keep him company. It was long past dark, and lucky for him, there were very few people out and about to question his choice to stay in the vehicle. Out of nowhere, he was overcome with emotion once again, knuckles thrashing against the steering wheel and dashboard, an anguished scream leaving his lips and eyes screwed shut. There was no way he was going into that apartment.

Another drink?

Roger sat at the bar for hours, downing drink after drink, try to drown the feeling of being incomplete. His heart ached for you, his every cell was screaming for your touch and his fingers were shaking slightly from the mix of alcohol consumption and emotional distress he was under. His limbs felt heavy as lead, but he still managed to bring his glass up to his lips and let the burning liquid sear a path down his throat. He noticed a blonde eyeing him from across the bar, twisting her fingers into her long hair and pouting her lips. Roger sighed, rubbing his brow slightly and trying to organize his scattered thoughts. He didn’t want to go home with that girl. He wanted to go home to you. Some part of him was able to fool himself into thinking that when he went back to your, no, his apartment, you would be waiting for him in bed, ready to snuggle up next to him. No, he definitely didn’t want to go home with that girl.

He did it anyway. Next thing he knew, he was pinned against her bedroom wall, teeth clashing and lips sloppily molding to each other. It was nothing like kissing you. Kissing you was passionate and not at all messy and felt exactly right. At some point, the blonde had gotten his shirt off, and was now running her hands down his chest, telling him how much she loved his body. He didn’t say anything back, just let her continue, doing as she pleased. He wasn’t trying too hard to please her. She turned them towards the bed, pushing him down onto her mattress and pulling his pants off, ridding herself of her clothes quickly and bending to her knees, her mouth taking him in. She couldn’t take him as far as you could, but to humor her, he let out a staged moan, clearly fake, but she didn’t seem to notice. Roger wasn’t getting anywhere from her ministrations, but the thought of you helped him out just a little. Maybe a little too much. “Oh, (y/n),” he rasped, not even realizing his mistake until the blonde stopped, standing up slowly and looking at him with narrow eyes.

“(y/n)? Who’s (y/n)?” she began to slip back into her clothes as Roger sat up, “My name is Darla.” 

Roger sighed, taking the hint and pulling his pants back up, “She’s my... Well, she was my, uh, my-”

Darla sighed, “I don’t care. Just get out.” Roger mumbled an apology, grabbing his shirt and making his way out of her apartment. He paused when he got into the hallway, buttoning up his shirt all the way and leaning against the wall. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were haunting him, and he felt like his sanity was slipping away, but it was fine with him. Now, you were only with him in his dreams and imagination, and as long as some part of you was still with him, he would be okay, even if none of it was real.

I was going to marry her.

It was about a month after you left Roger that Brian began to pity him. Brian hadn’t seen Roger completely sober for upwards of two weeks, and he and all the boys were beginning to be nervous. One night they were in the studio late, and Brian sat down next to his blonde friend, who was wine drunk and laying on the couch, eyes wide open and teary as he held something between his fingers. Brian wasn’t going to mention it, but he couldn’t help but notice the silver ring, a large diamond set on it. Roger hadn’t mentioned anything to the boys about proposing, but here it was, proof-positive that he had absolutely regretted his mistake, and that it was more than a just a mistake for him.

“Roger-”

“I wanted to marry her, Bri,” he interrupted, “I was going to marry her. I bought this ring a year ago.” Brian wrung his hands together, eyes saddened by the revelation of his friend, who continued on his rambling, “I guess I cheated out of fear. And we didn’t even go all the way, that girl and I. I stopped her. I knew it was wrong. I know it doesn’t make it right, what I did, but I suppose the thought of being with (y/n) for the rest of my life, and the possibility of her just saying no... It just got to me, and I was drunk and stupid. I’m so stupid.”

Brian sighed, and Freddie and John, who had been standing at the soundboard, had turned, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders drooping. Brian muttered, “She would have said yes.” Roger’s frame shook with a sob, but Brian kept talking, “Roger, she still loves you. I talked to her yesterday and she’s broken up about it. She misses you. Just, I don’t know, tell her what you just told me. It could help, maybe.” Brian, suddenly aware that Roger may not remember his words in the morning, so he scribbled the gist of the conversation on the back of a sheet of lyrics.

Brian drove Roger back home, but it wasn’t like the drummer stayed there. He knew a neighbor down the hall that had cocaine, and his feet took him there. He teetered down the stairs of the building precariously, his numbed mind barely comprehending that his legs were moving. He found his way to the sidewalk, humming a tune that had popped into his head and stumbling over his own feet. The street was illuminated by a few lights and the occasional headlights of a car passing by, but he was rather alone among the brick buildings that towered above him. He moved along, blinking to try to clear his blurry vision and balancing his steps along the curb. A cab whizzed by him, tussling his hair and the breeze it brought rushing through the thin fabric of his clothes. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, though it was cold enough to warrant one, but he didn’t mind the chilly weather. He paused, facing the street and leaning out slightly. Another car passed, honking, as he was leaning scarily far into the street. He took a step back, but returned to his former position. Another car thrummed past, this time close enough to send him backwards, landing hard on his backside. He cursed, then giggled, standing back up, but instead of putting himself back on the curb, he planted his feet in the gutter. He saw another car coming down the narrow road, and he was ready to feel the rush, when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, pulling him back.

You stood in front of him, eyes watering with tears at the sight of the man you loved putting himself in harm’s way. His eyes widened, stumbling forward with a cry of your name, his arms wrapping around your waist. You couldn’t help but return the embrace. “(y/n), I have so much to tell you,” he slurred, “I-I love you.” You gave him the best grin you could, grabbing his hand and leading him back to the apartment you had once shared, and he didn’t stop talking the whole walk.

Getting him up the stairs proved a difficult task, but once in the apartment, it was easy going. Roger pulled off his own shirt, leaving it in the living room as you pushed him to the bedroom. He flopped down on the bed, giving you a cheeky smile as you pulled off his shoes and socks, tugging off his trousers, leaving him in his boxers, and laying a quilt over him. He gave you one last happy look, before his heavy eyelids took over and he was drawn into sleep. You sighed, kicking off your own shoes and laying down next to him, taking watch over him. You let yourself drift off eventually, and there the two of you stayed.

You came back.

Roger was floored when he woke up to you next to him, and he sat against the headboard, just staring at you for at least an hour, until you rubbed your eyes and stretched, waking up and almost forgetting the reason you were there. You weren’t there because you and Roger had fallen asleep together out of habit, but because you were trying to take care of your drugged-up ex. Roger hummed when you sat up, and gave you a questioning glance, “How’d you find me, (y/n/n)? Why are you here?”

You shrugged, “Brian called me last night. Said you were in a bad state and needed me. He said... Well, he said you had told him some things, and that you needed to tell me those things. I couldn’t help but come, even if I shouldn’t have. Even if what you did was terrible, I love you, Rog. A-and,” sniffled, looking down at your hands, “And you could have died, Roger! You could have been hit by a car or killed in the streets or the drugs...” You trailed off, and Roger got the idea, pulling you into a hug as you began to sob. You let yourself be enveloped by him, taking in everything about him. You looked up at him from where you were pressed against his chest and saw the tears dripping from his own clenched eyes, his hands tangled in your hair as if you would slip away at any second.

When the crying let up, Roger let you go, “Let’s just make some tea calm down and then we can talk, yeah?” He wasn’t expecting you to say yes, but then you nodded and excused yourself to the bathroom. He looked around nervously, figuring that he should probably put some clothes on. He found a t-shirt, one he knew you liked, and yanked his jeans from the night before up to his hips. There were some things in his back pocket, and he grasped them, realizing that one was the engagement ring he had purchased, and the other was a crumpled piece of paper. He shoved the ring back into his pocket so you wouldn’t see, then unfurled the paper. Brian’s handwriting scrawled over it, and Roger grinned, “Brian May, you sneaky bastard.” Brian had slipped the paper into Roger’s pocket when he had helped him out to the car, and Roger was thankful to have a friend so determined. So the two of you had your tea, and Roger told you everything. Everything on the paper and everything he had in his heart, every confession and secret he had. 

When he eventually finished, you looked at him in shock and something else he couldn’t decipher. Roger was clearly sorry, and the fact that he hadn’t actually had sex with the girl helped somewhat (John would later apologize profusely for his mistake), but it would still take time. “I love you, Roger. Thank you for telling me all this, even if it took a rough night to do so,” you said softly, laying your hand over his, “Brian is right. I would’ve said yes. And we can still have that, eventually, but it will take time. We can figure this out, your fears and everything, and we can do it together.”

Roger smiled, “Together.”