#I feel like I need to justify the song I picked. So the van = ship because he doesn't have a van but he has the Bucket aka the ship

[fo-enjoyer]

Whoops I miss when this was popular oh well don't care

[rigginsstreet]

I would love fics Rec for FP n Fred pls!

yes!! okay 😊

from @fredheads:

fp's adventures in domesticity (T) - Fred's a professional when it comes to stretching himself thin, can usually make ends meet even when the rope's falling apart. But Fred can't run a household and recover from a gunshot wound at the same time, especially with both Archie and Jughead living there. That's where FP comes in.

you could justify sin (NR) - Fred Andrews was in middle school when he finally worked up the courage to do the right thing.

it breaks me in to stay alive (T) - fred in treatment for an eating disorder and fp being a supportive boyfriend

everybody's got a hungry heart (M) - Fred’s starving, and gobbles half of his plate in record time, using the crust of his bread to mop at the extra sauce. The dish is comforting somehow, the taste reminding him of his own childhood, his mother’s dinners. “I’ve missed this,” says FP casually, staring anywhere but Fred’s face. He speaks gruffly, but his fingers have been anxiously shredding the corner of his napkin into snow. “You and me.” Date? or not a date? He moves his fork a bit to the left. FP’s eyes follow it. Date, thinks Fred, with a swoop of panic, stuffing another mouthful past his lips to disguise his uncertainty. Date, date, date.

from @halcooper:

just won't quit (NR) - Fred Andrews never gets sick. Especially not during basketball tryouts. Especially not when his folks are out of town. or FP Jones spends his afternoon trying to get a delirious Fred Andrews home and tucked into bed.

from me :)

seventeen and coming clean for the first time (T) - It’s not until FP catches his breath that he realizes how silent the room has become. There’s a tension he hadn’t picked up on, but now that he has it’s so thick he’s practically choking on it. Reality slowly starts to crash in on him as his eyes roam up his father’s body to meet his own. They’re both at a standstill. Senior seems to be in a state of shock, like he’s trying to process what the hell just happened. FP’s just trying to figure out what play to make as the weight of what he’s just revealed finally dawns on him. It’s almost a game of chicken. And then…

show me what i'm looking for (T) - ”I don’t think I can go through with this,” is what Fred had told him less than 24 hours after being the one to ask FP to marry him in the first place.

it was me and you and the whole town under water (T) - the missing fredsythe storyline from 308 we all needed

all the best djs are saving their slowest songs for last (T) - Fred had always figured he’d chaperone his son’s senior prom. It’s just what he did. Went to every dance, every field trip, every PTA meeting… He was involved. It’s just… He also kind of assumed his wife would be there with him. Even after the divorce he still figured they’d go as friends. Never in a million years did he think he’d be dating his ex… whatever they were in high school.

and then some from miscellaneous authors who i am not in a group chat with lmao

The Shaggin' Wagon (E) - With college on the horizon, Fred Andrews and FP Jones fix up a van before taking it on a trip together, up into the mountains where it feels like they're the only two people on earth. It doesn't take long before the feelings that have been growing between them get too strong to ignore...

song for the last act (T) - fred and fp during their last week of high school

Where the Wild Rain Falls (M) - A storm comes in on the night of the parent-teacher conferences at Riverdale High.

stages of healing (T) - FP’s hands have been scarred for as long as Fred can remember.

[grandexodus]

Breaking and Entering (Part One)

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Word Count:  1,830

Content Warnings:  discussion of stabbing (wound), stalking, breaking and entering, animal abuse (not explicitly detailed), blood, fighting, light cursing.  Fem reader insert, she/her pronouns.

Summary:  When the replicator continues their criminal activity, you find yourself as their target upon arriving home from a long case with the BAU.  Aaron Hotchner, your unit chief, is more than accommodating during the string of traumatic events that you endure before, during, and after the replicator case.  

Next Part

Listen to the playlist based on this story -> Spotify // Apple

“How are you feeling?” Your unit chief, Aaron Hotchner, asked, abruptly breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you.

A very long case had just come to a close in Memphis, Tennessee. It ended with you being stabbed in the thigh by the unsub followed up by you shooting the unsub nearly point-blank.  

“Like I got stabbed.” You’d always had a dry, rather dark sense of humor, but it wasn’t appreciated in the current climate. You chuckled nervously before changing your statement, “I’m coping.”  

Silence fell over the two of you once again. You had never spent much time with Hotchner, not even when it came to working cases. However, since you hadn’t been cleared to fly, all of the unfamiliarity was changing with a twelve-hour drive back to Quantico. Thus far, it had been grueling. The stab wound in conjunction with two-sentence conversations made for a long trip. You glanced at your watch. It hadn’t even been two hours.  

“Would you mind if I played some music?” You asked once you decided the silence had lingered far too long.  

“Not at all.” Hotch handed you the AUX cord. He never took his dark eyes from the road.

“Any requests?” You asked as you plugged in the cord.

“I’ll be honest, I’m curious what you listen to.” He shot a quick side glance in your direction, and you caught the corner of his mouth twitch. It was the closest thing to a smile you had seen from him.

“Well, Hotch,” you allowed yourself to smirk in hopes of maintaining the light-hearted energy, “I listen to a little bit of everything.” You pressed play on your 70’s playlist.  

“Of all the music in the world, I never would have guessed that 70’s rock was your thing.” Hotch admitted over the opening lines of Cheap Trick’s ‘Surrender.’

“What can I say?” You smiled before you turned the music up. “Mama raised me well.”  

“Now, wait a minute.” His impassive tone was gone, and he sounded more sincere. “Do listen to 70’s rock, or do you know 70’s rock?” 

“Hotch, I-” He cut you off.

“Aaron.”

“Aaron,” you corrected while you suppressed a grin, “I’m absolutely heartbroken, but I accept your challenge.” You turned the volume even more.

“What challenge?” He shouted over the music. In response, you began belting along word for word. You looked over to him, and for the first time ever you saw him laughing.

As the song came to an end, you turned the volume down. “It’d be a lot more fun if you joined in.” Though you were hopeful, you were sure he wouldn’t take part.

“Okay.” He simply stated. You raised your eyebrows in genuine surprise. “However, I have a request.” The two of you locked eyes for a brief moment before he returned his back to the road. “Stutter.”  

“Kiss. Really?” You searched for the song. “I never would have guessed.”

“Why not?” He asked. Finally, he was making conversation.

“Would you like the friend answer or the profiler answer?” You questioned.

“Friend answer.”  

“You just seem like the type of person who prefers music that’s, I don’t know, less in your face.” You paused, “I would have pegged you as a Cash kind of guy myself. “

“I’ve been known to listen to Cash.” Hotch countered. “I do prefer Kiss, though.”

“Kiss, it is then.”  

As ‘Stutter’ began to play, you saw Hotch just barely moving his lips along to the lyrics.

“Sing like you know the song.” You teased.

He chuckled as he spoke, “I’m not sure you want to hear that.” A small smile lingered on his lips.

“Oh, I’m sure I do.” You countered. To your surprise, he turned the volume up and he sang much louder than before. His singing definitely wasn’t bad like he had led you to believe.

“You had me thinking you were going to be a bad singer.” You prompted as the song ended.

“You’re not too bad yourself.”  

It had been three hours since the drive back to Quantico started, and you and Hotch agreed it would be a good idea to grab some dinner before it got too late. Hotch had just thrown the van in park in front of a local diner that was located in a very small town.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hotch asked as you began the process of getting out.

“Getting out of the van.”

“Y/n, you were stabbed in the leg. The doctor instructed you to not walk on it.”

“I understand that, but it’s not like they gave me crutches or anything.” You paused. “I’m fine.”  

“Let me help you.” He got out and met you at the open passenger’s side door.  

“Seriously, I’m fine.” You stubbornly assured him while stiffly lowering yourself out of the vehicle. As soon as you put weight on your injured leg you nearly collapsed. You steadied yourself against the van. Hotch simply held out his arm. You took it, defeated. In one fluid motion, he closed the door and locked the van.  

“It will be much easier if I steady you rather than you steadying yourself.” Hotch prompted. You nodded in agreement with his statement. “May I?” 

“Yeah.” You say, eager to use as little unnecessary energy as possible. Hotch snaked his arm around your waist, and you did the same to him. You were able to at least limp this way.  

“You can lean on me as much as you need.” He assured, his tone gentle. Butterflies came to fruition, so all you could muster was an understanding nod.  

Once seated in a booth you said, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” His expression was once again stoic, but his speech was laced with empathy and concern.

“Hi, I’m Dorothy, I’ll be your server today. What can I get for the lovely couple?” A chipper teenager asked. Your brow furrowed, shocked at the assumption you and Hotch were together. 

Before you could correct her, Hotch spoke, “I’ll have the cheeseburger with fries, and water to drink.” He didn’t seem phased by the assumption.

“And for the lady?” Dorothy turned to you.

“I’ll have the same, but hold the pickles.” Dorothy finished jotting the order down and took the menus.   

“You didn’t correct her when she called us a couple.” You stated quizzically.

“I believe her words were, ‘lovely couple,’ and you didn't correct her either.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. You wanted to justify why you hadn’t corrected the waitress, but before you could, your food was placed in front of you. The two of you ate in silence.

Dorothy returned to the table after a while. “Here’s the check when you’re ready. No rush.”  

“Could we split this?” You asked before she walked away.

“I got it, thank you,” Hotch said to the waitress. You didn’t argue.  

Hotch finished his glass of water and placed $30 on the table. “Ready?” You nodded, and Hotch was quickly by your side to help you back out to the van.

“You should try to get some rest.” He suggested once you were back on the interstate. He glanced in your direction, and a small smile crept onto his lips when he realized you were already asleep.

“Y/n.” You awoke to Hotch gently shaking you. “We’re at your apartment.” He had already opened the door for you and was ready to help you out.

“Did I really sleep the entire ride?” You asked tiredly.

“You had a long day,” Hotch assured with his hand out for you to use as support to lower yourself out of the van. “You’re not doing those stairs tonight,” Hotch said sternly. Your brow furrowed.

“I can make it.” You said stubbornly.

“I’ll bring you crutches tomorrow, but you’re not taking those stairs without them.” He was dead serious. You opened your mouth to argue. “That’s an order.” He stated before you could utter a sound. You gave up on arguing and got out of the van. Hotch almost immediately had his arm around your waist to support you.

You exhaled sharply. Partly due to the pain shooting through your leg, and partly because the butterflies were back. Hotch was undeniably handsome, sure. But there was a strict no fraternization policy within the FBI. Nothing could ever happen between the two of you even if both of you wanted to be together.

“I’m going to carry you, okay,” Hotch said, breaking your train of thought. You were taken aback by his statement, and it was very evident. “If you’re not comfortable with that--” His tone was leaning toward concern.

“It’s fine. Whatever you need to do.” You interrupted him. He simply nodded before picking you up. “Shit.” You hissed at the pain that shot through your thigh before placing an arm around Hotch’s neck.  

“Sorry.” He said quietly. As he made it up the steps to your second-floor apartment you couldn’t help but rest your head on his shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m just in too much pain.” You said tiredly.

“You’re fine. No need to apologize.” He assured, “2F, right?”

“Yeah.”

He was approaching your apartment, but he stopped in his tracks. “Did you leave your door unlocked?” He asked. His voice was so low that only the two of you could hear. You saw what he was seeing immediately. Your heart sank into your stomach.  

Your door was wide open.

“No.” 

“Stay here.” He set you down. You leaned against the wall, and the two of you drew your guns. You watched as Hotch entered your apartment. “Clear.” He finally shouted.

You were holstering your weapon when he appeared in front of you. “It’s the replicator.” His voice was still low.  

“What makes you say that?” Sure, you trusted him, but you didn’t want to believe what you had just heard. You started toward the open door. You didn’t need to go all the way inside to understand how Hotch knew.  

There were black and white photographs of you and only you hung all over your living room. In large letters, the word ‘zugzwang’ was written. No doubt, written in blood.

“Whose blood?” It came out in a whisper.

“Your dog was in the bathroom.” Hotch placed a hand on your shoulder. What he meant was your dog was in the bathroom dead. Likely splayed open. You were frozen, feeling way too much all at once. “We need to go.”  Hotch prompted.

Once in the van, Hotch called the team with a brief explanation of what happened and with orders to meet at the office. You remained silent, staring forward.  

“We’re going to catch who did this, y/n.” You felt warmth on your shoulder, a reassuring gesture from the unit chief. “I promise.” With that, he intertwined his fingers with yours. You didn’t look at him. You simply laced your fingers with his before giving his hand a gentle squeeze. You were terrified, but you were as determined as he was.

[bytheangell]

Take Me With You

(For my @shadowhunterbingo square: Traveling | Jimon, Rated Teen, referenced alcohol but no archive warnings/other warnings) (Read on AO3) “I don’t need a bodyguard,” Simon insists. “It was one stupid letter.”

“The letter wasn’t stupid,” Jace says, already regretting his appointment to this job. “It was a death threat, by someone who’s sent multiple things to your unlisted apartment.”

“Well, no one knows where I live on the road, which is where I’ll be for the next three months,” Simon points out.

“Oh, yes, the total inability to track you from a list of cities you’re going to and the dates and times you’ll be there. You’re right, no one will ever find you that way,” Jace says, his tone dripping with sarcasm and more than a little condescending. Simon isn’t a no-name, but he isn’t famous-famous either, and Jace hoped that’d make him a little less awful to put up with than Jace’s usual high-profile assignments. So far it’s the opposite - Simon isn’t taking this seriously at all, which is somehow more frustrating than too much importance being put on minor perceived threats.

Simon sighs. “Fine.” It certainly doesn’t sound like he’s fine with it, but Jace isn’t here to argue. He’s here to do a job.

“Great,” Jace says. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

---

That ends up being a complete lie. Of course, when Jace first imagined blending into the background of Simon’s tour life he hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that Simon drove his own van, which would just be the two of them for extended periods of time.

Jace can tell that he’s putting a damper in the way Simon normally functions during his tours, mostly because he’s quiet while they drive. Then he’ll say something, start to ramble, catch himself rambling, and fall abruptly silent again in a repeating pattern.

“Sorry if I’m cramping your style,” Jace says after one of these repetitions, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the background.

“You’re not,” Simon insists.

Jace is dubious. “What would you be doing if you were alone?” Jace asks.

Simon doesn’t even hesitate before answering, “Scream-singing at the top of my lungs with the windows down. It’s like, my tried-and-true road trip routine.”

“...so do it. Don’t let me stop you,” Jace says.

“My manager hates it because he’s convinced one of these days I’ll end up losing my voice before a show. It’s probably for the best I’m not,” Simon says before falling silent again.

Jace doesn’t push it, nor does he comment when Simon starts to sing to a song that comes on about half an hour later, his voice growing louder and louder until all the windows are down and he’s shouting lyrics into the cool night air.

Jace has to fight the urge to join him. Normally he doesn’t have an issue staying focused on a job but Simon has this disarming way of making Jace want to relax around him. Somehow what he thought would be his easiest job to date continues to throw surprising complications his way.

Still, he keeps his mouth shut and enjoys Simon’s singing as they continue driving into the night.

---

Watching Simon with his fans is nerve-wracking. There’s no telling who might be a threat, not when everyone seems so down-to-earth, much like Simon himself. There aren’t any obviously obsessive fangirls and normal tells like knowing too many personal details is just the norm, with multiple people casually asking Simon about how his Bubbie Helen is doing or about the cat he left at home with Clary during his tour, or the most recent book he’s been reading and chatting about online. It’s difficult to pick out a potential stalker when everyone knows what Jace would typically consider more personal details than usual about Simon.

Jace watches these pre- and post-show encounters with a feeling more like he’s observing conversations between old friends rather than a musician and his fans, signatures and photo ops aside. Simon knows some of them by name, remembers birthdays mentioned over social media or live chats, and even recalls previous conversations. It’s impressive.

Dressed in plain clothes so he blends in with the crowd, Jace grows increasingly impressed with Simon the more time he spends with him. Plenty of people claim to be humble, but few often are in practice. Not Simon. Simon is everything he told Jace when they first met. He’s the same way with his fans that he is in private with Jace, which is the same way he is with his family and friends - Simon’s just, well, Simon, honestly and earnestly and unapologetically.

It’s refreshing. It’s also just another thing for Jace to push to the back of his mind, because he doesn’t need to like the guy - he just needs to protect him. Simon looks up from the table he’s signing CDs at and shoots Jace a beaming smile, and Jace has to actively force himself not to smile back and simply nod his head in acknowledgment instead.

“It’s an assignment, Herondale. Get your shit together,” Jace mutters to himself from the corner of the room. It’s a reminder he repeats more often over the upcoming weeks than he’s comfortable admitting.

---

“Please,” Jace begs after the first two weeks of shows. “I will pay for a better hotel. Let me pay for a better hotel.”

Simon is shaking his head in response before Jace finishes the request.

“Why?!” Jace glances critically around the room. “Do you want to get murdered in a shady motel? Just because I can keep you alive doesn’t mean we have to actively test it every night when we could have a door that doesn’t look like my 11-year-old brother could kick it in.”

“You have a brother?” Simon asks, ignoring everything else Jace said as he tosses his duffel bag (because Simon doesn’t even have a proper suitcase) onto a bed Jace feels the instinctive need to run a blacklight over.

Jace hesitates to answer because this is a job and he isn’t meant to share personal information about himself with his assignment. It’s strange because normally the people he’s tasked to protect are such self-absorbed assholes they barely spare Jace a second glance, let alone casual conversation.

He’s aware that the pause he takes after what should be a simple question is way too long when Simon frowns, brows pinching together.

“Two brothers, actually. One older, one younger, and a sister,” Jace finally decides to share. It’s all he intends on saying, not wanting to be rude and not answer at all, but when Simon brings up his own sister and keeps talking, keeps asking curious, harmless questions, Jace finds himself answering without thinking.

Simon is easy to talk to - maybe a little too easy to talk to, because the next thing they know it’s 1am and they need to be up and back on the road at 6.

“Get some sleep, Lewis,” Jace says finally, taking a few extra minutes to secure the door before doing one last perimeter sweep. When he gets back he pretends he doesn’t notice Simon, still awake, hastily close his eyes and pretend to sleep the second Jace gets back in the room.

---

After the third week, Jace insists that staying at nicer hotels is a matter of security and finally convinces Simon to pull into the parking lot of a proper hotel. One with room service instead of vending machines, plus a gym and a pool. Jace tells himself it’s a matter of security as well, and not a reaction to Simon complaining about having several nights of terrible sleep and some back and neck pain from the old, cheap mattresses.

Jace certainly doesn’t correct Simon’s assumption that this is covered in the contract when in reality Jace is fronting the extra cost himself. After all, this is as much for his own benefit as it is for Simon’s, right?

That’s what he tells himself as he opens up more around Simon as well, sharing a drink or two when Simon insists (never anything enough to impair his judgment, and only ever when they’re back in a room for the remainder of the night), telling a few more personal stories, and… flirting?

Jace isn’t sure, but occasionally when Simon impulsively runs into an ice cream shop in a new city and gets a cone for each of them, or points out a storefront display with a leather jacket he thinks Jace might like, or leans his shoulder into Jace while laughing at something sarcastic Jace says… yeah, sometimes Jace gets the feeling that Simon might actually like him.

Then Jace just as quickly tells himself that it’s just Simon being nice, because Simon is nice, and because of course Simon’s going to be on good terms with the guy he’s stuck with 24/7 for two months. Jace is working for Simon, and their relationship is strictly professional, however pleasant it may also be.

It’s that hard line Jace knows they won’t cross that allows him to continue to open up more, because Simon’s safe. He’ll never see the guy again when all of this is over.

“You’re a good person, Jace,” Simon says one night after a lengthy conversation.

“...what?” Jace isn’t expecting that.

“You know that, right?” Simon’s tone is just shy of insistent, and certainly not rhetorical.

“Why do you say that?” Jace asks instead of agreeing, because… well, because he doesn’t know that. He tries, but he’s made some shitty decisions in his past, and hurt a lot of people, intentionally or not. And Simon doesn’t even know him, so Jace really doesn’t know where this is coming from.

“Just… the way you talk about yourself sometimes. Like you always have something to prove, or make up for... or like you have to justify everything you say. Sometimes I get the feeling you don’t think very highly of yourself even when you’re acting like God’s gift to mankind,” Simon adds with more accurate insight than Jace is comfortable with.

And now Jace really doesn’t know what to do with that.

“What are you, a philosopher now?” Jace mutters, still avoiding any sort of direct commentary on Simon’s way-too-close-to-home observation. “Go to sleep, Simon. I don’t need you too tired to focus on the road tomorrow.”

Simon looks like he’s going to argue but doesn’t in the end, leaving Jace alone with his thoughts in the newly settling silence of the hotel room.

It feels surprisingly pleasant to hear those affirmations from Simon, and Jace considers for the briefest moment what it’d be like to just be friends with Simon outside of their circumstances, to have these discussions and delve deeper into both of their pasts, humoring more of Simon’s personal questions and--

--and everything he can’t let this turn into over the next few weeks. Fuck.

Maybe there’s some harm in opening up after all.

---

They’re a little over halfway through the three-month tour when Jace realizes that perhaps his harmless crush on Simon is stronger than he realized. Jace watches from his usual spot in the corner as Simon signs CDs and sells band t-shirts and poses for photos, which is what he always does. But with every flirtatious laugh and every arm Simon drapes over someone’s shoulder or wraps around someone’s waist, Jace feels the desire to pull Simon away... and it isn’t because he’s in danger. It’s because Jace is jealous.

Jace grows sullen at the realization, arms crossed in front of him as he forces himself to watch Simon with his fans, because this is his job. The more he watches the more he doesn’t even think Simon realizes he’s doing it. Jace knows what active, intentional flirting looks like, but this is just Simon being his natural charming self, and Jace isn’t sure if that makes the whole thing better or worse.

Because it starts to dawn on him with a bit more meaning now that the way Simon’s been with him is the way Simon is with everyone. Jace just gets to experience it more often than everyone else right now. That doesn’t make their conversations special. It doesn’t make Jace anything special to Simon. And hell, maybe it’s just been a while since Jace spent this much time with someone else, too. Maybe he should work on writing off his own motivations as easily as he’s writing off Simon’s because his feelings are far from professional right now.

When the crowd disperses and Jace goes to help Simon wrap up his gear and load it back into the van (something that’s become routine for them, though not strictly in Jace’s list of expected duties) Jace is quieter than usual.

“Everything alright?” Simon asks, catching the shift in mood.

“Yeah. Fine,” Jace says curtly.

Simon doesn’t look like he believes him but doesn’t press the topic as they toss the last of the equipment into the van and head out.

---

The nicer Simon is toward him, the more closed-off Jace gets. He’s quiet during dinners Simon insists on paying for, stops sharing so much about himself when they do talk, and when Simon gives Jace a guitar pick he fashioned into a necklace for him Jace pockets it with a muttered ‘thanks’ without putting it on. He doesn’t have the heart to totally push Simon away, but he can’t keep growing closer to him knowing it’s all going to end in three weeks.

Jace wears the necklace every day but he keeps it tucked underneath his shirts where Simon can’t see.

Simon eventually stops trying to talk to him entirely, and they spend more and more time in uncomfortable silences. Sometimes Simon insists he needs privacy to work on his music and Jace sits at the end of the hallway of their hotel room listening to the faded sounds of Simon’s strumming.

There are three weeks left in Jace’s assignment when he gets the call that the police managed to track the letters to a girl back in New York: she’s in custody and getting a restraining order put against her, and Jace can come back as soon as he arranges transportation.

Jace hangs up the phone feeling surprisingly upset. This is great news for Simon, and he should be happy for him if nothing else, but that means this is the last night he’ll have to spend with Simon.

The last night he’ll get to spend with Simon.

“Hey Simon, good news. I just got a call from Luke and they tracked down your mystery stalker. You’ll get all the details once you’re back home but they’re already putting the restraining order into place, so you’re good to go.”

“What? That’s amazing!” Simon grins automatically, but it falls back into a frown just as quickly. “Does that mean you…?” his words trail off in question.

“I’ll be able to leave in the morning,” Jace confirms.

“Guess you’ll be happy to get out of here,” Simon says, his smile entirely gone.

“I do miss New York,” Jace carefully avoids the answer he knows Simon’s fishing for. The lie he should give, but can’t bring himself to.

Simon looks Jace up and down, his gaze finally resting on Jace’s face for a long couple of seconds, searching for something there before turning away without another word.

---

Jace knows he shouldn’t go to the show, but he does. He hangs in the back, a real drink in hand now that he’s no longer on duty, and listens to Simon sing the songs Jace knows by heart now. Jace knows from experience standing by the side of the stage that there’s no way Simon can make out any faces where Jace currently sits back by the bar. He plans on leaving before the end, before the lights come on and Simon knows he was there.

He’s a few drinks in when he hears Simon break his usual format.

“How does everyone feel about me trying out a new song I’ve been working on?” Simon asks. The crowd claps and cheers, and Jace shifts in his seat to fully face the stage. “This is a song about feeling a connection with someone, and not knowing when things went wrong, only that they did. And wondering if maybe it was all in your head the whole time...”

Jace feels his throat tighten at those words. He doesn’t have to be a genius to piece together the lyrics Simon starts to sing, fitting them to their lives the past few months, the hope of getting to know someone you’re starting to like, the confusion of being shut out, the uncertainty of wondering if they ever felt the same way you did or if they were just humoring you.

Jace knows Simon well enough to know that this isn’t a coincidence. It can’t be.

Against his better judgment, Jace stays. He stays until the set is over and the lights come on and Simon looks out around the crowd and makes direct eye contact with him.

Because fuck it. He’s leaving in the morning, and if this is all for nothing then he’ll never see Simon again and it won’t matter. But if he’s right…

Jace hangs back, watching Simon smile and laugh and sign CDs and take photos, acutely aware of every time the musician’s eyes wander over to where Jace lingers by the bar. Outside of the fading buzz from the alcohol it almost feels normal: hanging back after the show, watching Simon and waiting for him to make his way over once the crowd disperses. Hell, even the butterflies in Jace’s stomach aren’t new.

“You’re here,” Simon says when he finally makes his way over. “I didn’t think you’d come, since… I mean…”

“I heard your new song,” Jace forces the words out before he can change his mind. “I’d say I liked it, but that seems like the wrong response from the guy who made you think you did something wrong.”

“Not everything is about you,” Simon argues, but the intent falls flat beneath the nervous tremor the words are spoken with.

“No,” Jace agrees easily. “But that song is.”

Simon hesitates, then sighs. “It is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for not liking me, Jace. You were doing your job, that’s-”

“No. I’m sorry I was going to leave without telling you that I like you. I thought I’d leave and you’d never see me again, that it’d be pointless to get attached. I thought you were just… being nice. Because you’re a good person.” The words spill out of Jace before he can overthink them.

“You like me,” Simon repeats incredulously. “That totally makes sense with, you know, the way you completely stopped talking to me.”

Jace can hear the anger in Simon’s voice and winces slightly. Just because it’s entirely deserved doesn’t make it easier to hear.

“I figured it’d be easier to walk away once this was all over if we weren’t as friendly.” It’s still a shitty thing to have done, and Jace wouldn’t blame Simon for holding it against him. But after hearing that song he couldn’t walk away with Simon thinking it was over anything he did wrong. No matter the cost to Jace’s pride, Simon deserves that much. “And… maybe I was a little afraid that if I got much closer I’d want to cross a line I knew I couldn’t.”

“So you felt it too?” Simon’s words and expression are full of so much hope that Jace almost panics again. What if he isn’t half the person Simon thinks he is after getting to know him in this little bubble of theirs from the past few months? What if he messes this up?

...what if he doesn’t?

“I did,” Jace finally admits. “I still do. And I know I probably ruined any chance I had before, but if I haven’t fucked things up too badly, maybe once you’re back in New York we could meet up for coffee?”

Simon smiles, brighter than the house lights that fill the small venue now.

“Or… or you could stay with me for the last few shows? I wasn’t just being nice for the sake of being nice - I like you, Jace. I changed my hotel routine for you! I wouldn’t do that for just anyone. I don’t know if you have to go back right away for work, or something, but if you don’t I definitely wouldn’t mind the company. Your company.”

Jace considers it for a few long moments, then nods. It’s fitting, he thinks, to drop the formalities and the professional distance in the same setting he started to fall for Simon in. The same setting in which Simon started to fall for him, despite Jace’s best efforts to dissuade him, only this time with no excuses to hold him back. And if Simon’s willing to give him an actual shot after everything, he’d be a fool not to take it.

“Well, I can’t very well leave you to lug all your equipment around by yourself, can I?” Jace says, smiling. “Let me check back in with the office tomorrow morning but I don’t have anything scheduled. It shouldn’t be an issue.”

There’s a pause then, the air between them filled with an almost electric buzz of anticipation. Simon takes the first step closer, bridging the gap between them. There’s no questioning what Simon’s thinking when his eyes dart down to Jace’s lips and back up to meet his gaze again before speaking.

“Can I-”

Before Simon can finish, Jace’s lips are already on his in response. It’s slow and tentative, with each of them feeling the other out, but it’s nice. It’s really nice. When they pull away after a few moments Simon can’t keep the smile off his face. “That was even better than I imagined.”

Jace quirks an eyebrow, smirking fully now. “You imagined us kissing?”

“Shut up and help me load the van.”

The familiar banter and Simon’s easy smile are such an immediate comfort for Jace that he can’t help the light laugh he gives in response. As Simon looks back at Jace it’s with an expression so soft and full of kindness that Jace knows now isn’t the same look he reserves for everyone else.

Jace knows it’s a look reserved only for him this time - and with any luck, for many more times to come.

[themangledsans0508]

From the Inside Looking Out

Read on Ao3

This was for her daughter, everything was for her daughter. This whole experiment, it was for her daughter. Her daughter’s future, her daughter’s success, her daughter’s potential. Under the guise of humanity, it was just for her child.

Which was why she was okay with the sacrifice, Emelia’s anger, losing everything. What she was not okay with was losing control.

Sinking through an orange liquid, up to her waist while being watched by the Mega Monkey. Unable to decide how she acted and having to fight to stay in control.

Then the fume hit them, and she was thrown onto her hands and knees. The monkey stood at attention and she could see the outside. She could see Emelia, she could hear her.

“Oh, Song. You didn’t think this through.”

Yes, she did. She put over a year of thought into it, she put at least a decade of science education she had to work, she put everything into it. She tried to reach out and grab her, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything. She could only watch from the monkey’s view.

“We should leave this pile of rubble, take me for a walk, Song.”

She tried to run away at every opportunity, but Emelia always found her. Sometimes she escaped for weeks, sometimes months, once even a whole year, but she would track her down one way or another. Someone who was once her best friend was now her capture.

Sometimes she’d say things to her that she thought would never grace the world again.

“Do you remember when Liam was killed?” Emelia asked one day. She didn’t respond, she missed Liam. He was someone who had daydreamed with her about a safe surface, then he was taken away from them all so suddenly. Emelia took her silence as a yes.

“Well, he had actually managed to befriend some mutes. Rats that drove a van. He was always too charismatic for his own good,” she chuckled darkly. “He wanted to tell everyone about how nice they were, how they liked him and even were going to welcome humans into their park. But that was against our goal.” She grinned at her.

“I couldn’t let him do that. So, do you know what I did Song? I shot him. I shot him right then and there.” The laugh disturbed her deeply and if she could have backed away any further from her in the cave she was trapped in she would have. She would have run as fast as her legs could carry her. Instead, she just trembled. Emelia stepped closer to her.

“The end justifies the means. Come on, I think there’s another burrow nearby.”

Another time after an encounter with Scarlemange, Emelia had her blocked in again.

“He was like your son, right? How did he end up like that? I guess insanity is inherited. I’d assume it was from your side, but Lio spent more time with him. And somehow, Lio disappeared from our burrow, with your monstrosity, and left him behind. I guess he was disappointed in him just like Father was disappointed in Liam.” Emelia tapped her fingers against her chin.

“Liam, Liam. He was never the smartest. Nor was he very strong. But I have to say, he was very dedicated. Too bad it was to the wrong cause. If he had listened more he would be alive. Father told us the truth, how Mother died was directly caused by mutes. Yet Liam always bought into what the Overseer told us. I told you too, Song. But you didn’t believe me.” She slammed her fist into the dirt, and she had the strong urge to do the same to her body. Her hand was stiff although in her reality it twitched.

“You all let yourselves be occupied with basic science. We never moved forward until I was in charge. I can’t believe it was ever a debate whether you or I should lead. If you lead, we’d all be like you.” Even the wave of her hand she had to obey, no matter how hard she fought.

The last time Emelia controlled her, Song will never forget.

“You haven’t seen your daughter in a long time, she’s turning thirteen soon, right? I bet you’d love to see her again. And you’re in luck because I need that monster right now.”

She wanted to kill her, she tried. She lunged and swung and kicked and bit but in reality, she was frozen. She could do nothing.

Then she didn’t see Emelia, but her husband.

“This isn’t you.”

This wasn’t her. This was Emelia. The collar felt like molten lava on her fur. This was the man she loved.

Then it released another wave of pheromones.

Next, it was her daughter. Pesky axes that did nothing but annoy her, faces she didn’t recognize, snakes that only felt like small pinpricks. The music was unmistakable. After random strokes over the strings and shouting she charged but then her daughter started singing.

“We may not have sunshine, or starlight, or weather. But, we have each other, and that’s even better.”

That was their song, but that wasn’t Lio. And no one else could know it but…

Kipo.

She slowed down until she was only sliding and then standing still. Her eyes were fixed on her daughter. The girl she never got to raise. The girl she hadn’t seen in over a decade. She let her finish singing and kept her gaze on her.

Did she eat humans? No. Did she take them? No. Did they get away? Yes.

The glow on Kipo’s face would have spread to hers if she didn’t have fur. She reached a finger out to touch her and drew it back when Kipo jerked back before trying again. To touch her baby after so long made her indescribably happy.

Then she asked why she broke into the burrow and her collar started beeping.

She tried to signal what was happening, but Kipo couldn’t understand. When it released the pheromones, she used her last few seconds of control to run away. With no humans in her hands, she had no orders and she would not grab her daughter.

The next time she saw a human, it was again Kipo. This time, with a jaguar paw. She was growing up, and she was missing it. Her girl helped her, she cut through her collar. But she still couldn’t understand her, no matter how hard she tried to sign that she was her mom. Kipo misunderstood as her wanting to go with her, which wasn’t wrong but was not what she was trying to say. Before Kipo left, she did attach a bracelet to the fur on her arm.

She spent a long time staring at it.

Then it was Emelia again, but she wasn’t alone.

She was frozen in fear as Emelia spoke, she wasn’t hearing anything she said. Then she saw the collar and heard a sentence that registered.

“Put it on the monkey.”

She ran, her legs carrying her faster than Emelia and her goons could keep up.

Then not much later her son.

He chased her around Las Vistas, able to move well enough around the buildings that he didn’t crash as his followers did. He talked to her normally, before preaching of a future for mutes, and she ran. That was not the mandrill she had raised.

Then she was tied to a tree with silk, and she awoke to a small human climbing her. She looked down to see Kipo scaling her.

“Hi, mom.” She never thought she’d hear those words. She cooed at her and she was offered a canteen. “You must be thirsty.” Yes, she was. “Let me get you out of here.”

She raised a paw to strike and was grabbed by a flamingo’s talon. She howled in panic but she couldn’t do anything. Her hands were tied.

Her surroundings suddenly changing into a cave was shocking, even more so when a tardigrade started talking to her. Her daughter befriended a water bear, somehow she was not incredibly surprised. What she was surprised by was that she was now immune to pheromones. She could protect her family now, and she could convey a message.

“Could you tell Kipo mom loves her?”

The coronation was terrifying for her, and she could have easily escaped. For Kipo, however, she’d jump into an active volcano. So she did take the golden top off a building and help a thousand humans escape. So when she saw Kipo take charge as a jaguar and try to knock the tree down she joined. Even after her hand got gilded, she stood by her daughter.

When she howled in pain after she realised she was stuck, she howled with her. She understood. She wrapped her arms around her for the first time in twelve years and held her as she cried. She didn’t let go until Kipo had turned back and she could not be prouder of and happier for her daughter.

“Don’t worry mom, we’ll get you back.”

Working alongside Kipo every day was a blessing, even under threat. Getting to see her every day, getting to see her husband every day. Even if they could only hug her finger, she was content.

Then her family was under stress and she had to practically tackle her daughter to keep her from running into a trap. Afterwards, all she could do was pace back and forth. She knew how to beat Emelia at her own game, however, she didn’t know how to communicate.

“Hey! Song! Song!” She looked down at Scarlemange, the frustration painted on his face making her feel guilty. “These are my only hours of peace and quiet, and I can’t enjoy them if you’re shaking the whole forest!” She tried to sign to him, but he didn’t understand either. She picked his cage up and started cooing at him.

“You know I can’t understand you, right?” he stated and she groaned in frustration and pressed her palm to her forehead. “Wait, I’ll make you a deal.” She shook her head and the cage, eliciting a shout. “It’s not letting me out! Don’t worry. But I need you to do a favour for me and I’ll do a favour for you. Deal?” She nodded, and Scarlemange let out a shout. “Nod with your head, not your whole body!” She corrected herself and he smiled. “Good.”

It took them a long, long, time. Trying to use motions, then blocks, then motions again. He couldn’t understand her signals, her fingers were too big to use the blocks, and he couldn’t understand her noises.

She started signalling very quickly out of habit, and was surprised when one of the kittens pointed at her and said; “That means no!”

She nodded and Scarlemange tapped a finger to his chin. He climbed up next to the kids and sat with them. It was like playing charades, more like a game than a translation. Granted, it took them ages, they did eventually get her message down.

They delivered it, and she had to watch her daughter go and hope she’d be okay.

When she did come back with her friends, she let out a sigh of relief. She watched them talk and leaned down to be level with Kipo when she approached her.

“Let’s get you back, mom.” Her finger was pricked with something, and everything felt like she was on fire. She flailed briefly, and then her vision went black.

She got it back quickly, and she pushed herself up with two hands. She looked at her body and she wasn’t a monkey anymore, and she only had two hands. She pulled herself out of the crater she had made and her eyes landed on her daughter. The moment she got on her feet, she ran towards her and grabbed her in a hug.

[our-time-is-now]

July 8, 2019 (1): Bifi and 500 Miles

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.

Monday, 10:07 am:

David: *Hanna and Jonas have picked them up at quarter to 10 but as Matteo still had to pack his toiletries – he had already double-checked the rest of the luggage last night – Hanna and Jonas had to wait in the car for 5 minutes before they could finally leave* *they have agreed with the others to meet up at Carlos' house, as Sam had picked up the van at 9:30 and had already picked up the others* *from there they planned on driving to Heidesee with all three of the cars* *have just arrived at Carlos', where all the others are already waiting, and are getting out of the car* *hears Jonas say: "Hanna and I were on time!"* *grins slightly and shrugs before greeting the others via handshake or hug* *hears Mia: "Well, I think we can cope with a 7 minute delay!"* *nods* I agree! *then looks around and asks* You've already packed all the luggage? *sees Abdi nod: "Yes, of course! We can actually leave straight away!"* *sees Kiki look at her clipboard: "Shouldn't we go through the list again!"*

Matteo: *slightly rolls his eyes at Jonas' comment* *then grins at Mia and nods exaggeratedly* I agree! *laughs at Kiki's question* Sure, let's go through the list again... but then it's not my fault if we don't leave on time. *sees Kiki hesitate for a moment but then start, after all: "So, the tents are all in the van, and all our provisions are also in the van, but also in the legroom, that's going to be a little uncomfortable, but we'll manage..."* *interrupts her* There's still room in Hanna's car... *sees Kiki look at him horrified: "Even with the luggage of four people?"* *sees her immediately go to Hanna's car and inspect the trunk* *sees her hold up his duffel bag and hears her ask: "Is that yours? There's no way that's enough?"* *laughs* I don't need much. *feels Carlos tug at his shirt: "That's not even yours, either... I'm sure he'll help himself from David's stuff... they'll manage, babe, let's get the provisions into Hanna's car and then that's ok."* *nods* Exactly.

David: *nods hesitantly when Kiki says that they are going through the list again and hopes that she’s really only summarizing everything and not going through every single item on it* *hugs Matteo from behind and puts his head on his shoulder when Kiki starts* *is somehow really tired because they currently have a pretty late sleeping pattern and he’s gotten up earlier today to at least be able to shower and have some coffee in peace* *follows Kiki with his eyes when she inspects the trunk of Hanna’s car* *grins slightly at her words and quietly murmurs to Matteo* I told you… *then laughs at Carlos’ words and lets go of Matteo again* *shrugs* If we have to, we’ll just do some laundry there… *also thinks that Matteo packed a little light but doesn’t really think that it’s that big of a deal* *sees Kiki nod at Carlos’ words and then look at Abdi and Carlos: “Yes, could you carry two boxes over? Maybe we can even fit three… okay what else….”* *has to grin when Carlos and Abdi really go to the van immediately and carry boxes to the other car* *then hears Kiki again: “Okay, we have games… the barbecue stuff is in Alex’ car… what else is important…?"* *hears Mia: “Kiki, we have everything! We’ve already gone through the list in the chat… Let’s hit the road – otherwise it will get even later."* *sees Kiki hesitate: “Hmm… okay, but once we arrive everyone should stick to the plan: The ones sleeping in the tents put up their tents and the others unload the rest of the stuff and tidy up the house and make some space in there, okay?"*

Matteo: *simply starts to grin even broader and nods at everything that’s going on* *truly doesn’t really care at what time they leave and arrive* *also nods when Kiki announces the plan for when they arrive* *then sees Carlos and Abdi whisper and shake their heads* *looks over to them and sees them making swimming motions and grins* *briefly nods imperceptibly and then turns around to see if David is still standing there* *hears Kiki say: “Hello, guys, that’s important! We’ll unpack first, once we arrive, and then we can have fun, okay?"* *sees Jonas salute and hears him say: “Yes, Sir, Sergeant Kiki, no fun before 1310 hours, understood!"* *laughs out loud and salutes, as well* *sees Kiki look at Jonas in confusion for a moment and then shake her head: “Only if we’re finished by then."* *hears everyone laugh now and sees Mia lovingly push Kiki: “Okay, let’s hit the road, first the van and we’ll follow."* *takes David’s hand and goes over to Hanna’s car with him to sit down on the back seat*

David: *grins broadly when Jonas and Matteo salute and glances at the time* *laughs* Oh, that’s gonna be a close call! Then we really have to be quick and hurry with putting up the tents… *is glad that Kiki is then convinced by Mia to hit the road and lets Matteo pull him to the car* *takes a seat behind Hanna while Matteo sits down behind Jonas* *buckles up, leans back and reaches for Matteo’s hand again* *looks over at him and is suddenly really excited that they are finally leaving – their first holiday together* *smiles at him in anticipation and squeezes his hand* *then hears Hanna from the front: “Okay, what’s not on Kiki’s list and so we forgot it, is some music for the road. My father only has oldies and classics in here. Does anyone have a CD with them? Or the radio or papa’s CDs?"* *grins slightly* Oh, classics aren’t that bad… definitely better than the radio! *sees Jonas nod: “I agree. But oldies aren’t bad, either… although, depends on the oldies…”*

Matteo: *buckles up and grins when he sees David holding out his hand and immediately takes it* *then listens to the discussion about the music and shrugs* Yeah, put the oldies on… if it’s too bad we can change it… *sees Jonas getting busy with the CDs and put one in* *hears “Be my Baby” by The Ronnettes start to play and grins* *starts to nod his head exaggeratedly* That’s super groovy! *hears Hanna laugh: “Definitely…!"* *then hears Jonas sing along and grins* *suddenly really feels like they’re on holiday and grins over at David*

David: *hears Hanna start the car and pull into the traffic behind the van while Jonas puts in the CD* *has to smile when he hears the first song and automatically starts to bounce his leg with the beat* *laughs at Matteo’s words and grins when Jonas starts to sing along* *then also hears Hanna loudly sing along when they reach the chorus and grins over to Matteo and starts to sing along, as well* *they listen to two more songs before they reach the Autobahn and “Like a Rolling Stone” by Bob Dylan starts to play* *likes the song and quietly hums along* *then suddenly hears Hanna from the front: “So, now I’m hungry!" and Jonas: “Dude, we’ve only been on the road for 12 minutes…”* *grins slightly when Hanna replies: “The Autobahn always makes me hungry!"* *knows the feeling and therefore says* I can relate. They somehow make you feel like you won’t get to anything edible for a while and like you’ll still be on the road for a long time! *hears Hanna’s triumph: “Yes, exactly! You see, Jonas, David gets it!"* *sees Jonas shake his head with a grin: “You’re both crazy!" and sees him turn to Matteo: “They’re crazy, Luigi! Say something!"* *grins slightly and then looks at Matteo* Matteo hasn’t had breakfast yet and he’s always hungry anyways – I’m afraid you’re on your own with your opinion right now…

Matteo: *laughs when Hanna says that she’s hungry* *definitely knows why she’s his favorite girl* *only nods slightly to the discussion that follows* *can’t believe that Jonas really thinks that he’s going to take his side on this one* *was just about to say that when David already does and grins even broader* Exactly. You should actually know that, Mister best friend… *sees Jonas wave it off: “Okay, okay… and where do we get something to eat now? Or did you really pack provisions for a 1.5 hour long drive?"* *laughs slightly* Noooo, but who was smart enough to make sure that the provisions are in this car? *hears Hanna laugh and say: “You’re the best!"* *laughs* I know… hang on… *unbuckles his seatbelt and turns around on the seat to halfway climb into the trunk and see what he can reach*

David: *grins when he realizes due to Hanna’s and Matteo’s conversation that the provisions are in the car with them and when Matteo unbuckles to see what he can find* *hears him rummage around for a while and eventually hears him ask: “Milchschnitte or Bifi?"* *thinks for a moment and eventually says* Bifi! *hears Hanna say at the same time: “Milchschnitte!” and sees Matteo sit back down and triumphantly hold up Milchschnitte and Bifi* *laughs and takes one of the Bifis while handing Hanna a Milchschnitte* I’m sure Kiki counted them… and whoever had to buy them will get into trouble because some of them are missing… *hears Hanna: “It’s not like the closest Aldi isn’t only 15 minutes away by car… basically we could have bought everything there…”* *then hears Jonas: “If I were you I would shut up. Kiki is sitting in the back of the van and is probably wondering right now where you’ve got the Milchschnitte from…”* *sees him wave towards the van exaggeratedly*

Matteo: *takes a bite off his Bifi and then laughs out loud* Kiki should stop making such a fuss… she has to relax  a little… *hears everyone laugh and Hanna say: “Yes, tell that to her face, I’m sure she’ll take that well."* *laughs again* I’m not afraid of Kiki. *hears Jonas say: “Liar. We’re all afraid of Kiki and…?” and hears Hanna answer: “Justifiably so!”* *shrugs one shoulder and takes another bite off his Bifi* Well, okay… but the Aldi really isn’t far away… we even walked there once because while we were high you really wanted to have that one type of cookies, Jonas? *hears Jonas laugh: “Yeees, but I don’t remember how long it took us… probably forever…”*

David: *listens to the three with a grin, but then hears how Hanna apparently didn’t think that it was funny and hears her say: “It took you 2 hours and 40 minutes in total! It would have been really nice back then if you had told me about it before you left…”* *sees Jonas put a placating hand on her knee and hears him say: “Yeah, sorry, was really stupid of us… but now we’re older and wiser… and not high as often as we used to…”* *can somehow understand Hanna really well* *would also be worried if Matteo stayed away for so long and he didn’t know where he was* *looks over at him and takes his hand again* *everyone is silent for a moment and then he eventually hears Hanna: “Sorry, I didn’t want to bring down the mood… it’s in the past now and forgotten, okay?"* *hears Jonas: “Okay, put behind us and forgotten… I’ll go find a song that gets the mood back…”* *grins slightly and watches him meddle with the CD player*

Matteo: *grimaces slightly at Hanna’s words* *had forgotten for a moment how tense it had already been between Hanna and Jonas during that trip* Yes, that was really stupid of us… sorry… *then feels David’s hand in his’ again and smiles at him* *leans over and quickly kisses him with a grin* *then hears “500 Miles” start to play and has to laugh when Hanna groans and Jonas cheers at the same time* *only laughs and immediately starts to sing along when Jonas does* *grins when two seconds later Hanna and David also join in* *you simply cannot resist that song*

David: *has to grin when because of the song the mood is suddenly lifted again and also starts to sing along* *spends the rest of the journey in a good mood with a lot of singing and anticipation and a few stories from Heidesee* *at some point they make a quick pit stop on the roadside because Kiki has to pee and while Hanna and Jonas are out of the car talking to Sam about some shortcut that the GPS isn’t showing, Matteo and he use the time to make out* *the rest of the way their car is in the front because Hanna knows the area the best and eventually they arrive at the cabin a little after 11:30 am*

(next play)

[katelinartjoker]

Haven’t made on of these in a while heh.

—————————————

50 Shades of Joker! (pt 1)

—————————————

(Most of the NSFW will be in part 2 which I’m working on now)

Here you go!

———————

You walk out of the store with a bright smile on your face after saying thank you to the clerk, who’s still laughing from your conversation. You like the fact that you can make people laugh. Even if they’re just strangers.

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you put your headphones in and start to walk with a little pep in your step as you listen to your latest favorite song by your all time favorite band, Paradise Lost by The Used. It’s a song that’s got a lot of energy and you can’t help but start to dance and sing along to the lyrics while you’re walking down the street. People give you strange looks as you pass them by but you really don’t care. You’re having the time of your life, feelin’ higher than cloud nine when you turn the corner and suddenly your entire

Maybe it’s because you weren’t paying close enough attention earlier, you were having too much fun, but now you notice someone following you. At least, you think so. You’re pretty sure that’s the same guy that kept looking at you while you were at the store, and you started to panic then but quickly told yourself not to be so paranoid.

You start walking faster. You turn off the music and take out your headphones so you’re aware of your surroundings. Suddenly the van pulls up beside you and a masked man runs up to you and grabs you.

“What the FUCK?! Let me go, asshole!” You scream as he opens the door to the van and climbs in. So many things are racing through your head. So many BAD things. Things you don’t want to think about but you feel like you have to so that you’re somewhat prepared for whatever this fucker is going to do to you.

He still hasn’t said anything. Other than calling you a bitch when you tried to kick him in the nuts. But come on, really? You were pretty justified for it. This strange fuck has the nerve to try and kidnap you, and then has the balls to call you names? He should be happy that he even still has his gonads in the first place, seeing as you were dead set on squashing those dried out raisins as hard as you could but you fucking missed because you never finished your damn taekwondo class. Damnit. Maybe all of this really was all your fault... but NO! No way in hell!

“Get me the FUCK OUTTA HERE, buddy!” You scream at him again.

“Sure thing, the sooner I get rid of ya, the better!” He says, and picks you up, throwing you roughly over his shoulder and starts walking down a dark corridor. The pain is excruciating, but you’re trying to distract yourself.

“Aahhh, so the asshole does have a mouth, or is it still the same hole? Tell me, do you shit where you eat, turd biscuit?!” You chuckle, laughing at your own lame joke. Probably not the best thing to say to a guy who sounds like he’s gonna kill you, but hey, if that’s the case, you might as well have a little bit of fun before you’re impending doom.

“I’ll tell ya one thing, lady, my mouth is way cleaner than yours! I probably shouldn’t even be callin’ you a lady, after all the filth that came from your pretty lips.” He says, bringing you into a room and throwing you onto a bed. A bed. Fuck. No. NO! This is NOT HAPPENING! You would rather DIE than have that idiot touch you. But... what... what do you do?!

“Aw, well thanks for the compliment, Limp Dick!” You start laughing uncontrollably, sounding like a maniac, mostly because you’re panicking and you think you’re losing you’re mind. Hopefully this guy doesn’t like taking advantage of the crazy ladies. Who knows. But you were going to do whatever you could to get out of here, and if that wouldn’t work, you were going to make sure he didn’t enjoy himself like he was planning to.

“Jesus, you’re crazy. No wonder he likes you!” The guy says and starts walking to the door. Wait.. what did he just say?

“Who? Who are you talking about?” You ask him, still struggling to sit up straight. You have an idea, but... that... that would be crazy!

“You know who! Don’t play games, lady. The two of you were meant for each other! Anyway, I’ve done what he told me to do. Now I guess you just gotta wait until he comes to see you. Part of me is curious to find out what the hell a guy like that finds interesting in the bedroom. But the smarter part is telling me to get the hell outta here while I still can. Oh well. Enjoy your night with the Joker, lady! Hope you survive it!” He says and wobbles his way out of the room.

“Joker...” you say, an excited smile spreading across your face. Even saying his name feels intoxicating on your lips. You take a deep breath. You were right. This was all set up by Joker. You know you’d discussed this of thing with him before but... neither of you officially made any kind of agreement. Then again, this is Joker you’re talking about. He’s never been the kind of guy that does things by the book.

You lie back down and try to calm yourself, but as the panic and fear subside, you get excited by all the thoughts of what he’s going to do to you.

You don’t have to wait long, though, because you can hear the door opening, and footsteps walking casually across the floor.

Your entire body tenses, you hold your breath, and you can feel your heart about to burst from your chest.

He doesn’t say anything, but you know it’s him. You can just sense him, smell him. You recognize the way he moves his body around, or the way he breaths.

And then you hear him laugh quietly to himself, and oh god, did it make you want him more than ever. You could feel your lady parts pulsating and soaking up your panties. You started moving your hips up and down, gasping for air and wishing he would just hurry the fuck up and get over here already! But you didn’t want to say anything. You didn’t want to run his good night to what was probably yet another bad day.

No, you were going to let him do whatever he wanted, at the exact time he wished to do so. You’d let him take all the time in the world, even if you ended up wriggling in a puddle of your own juices, whimpering his name, in desperate need of his attention.

Yes. This was his night, and you were his choice of entertainment.

He begins to hum to the tune of “That’s Life,” and you smile as the sound of his voice travels across your body. You feel your body start to move, swaying back and forth, almost like you’re dancing to his music.

The sound of his voice gets louder as he walks closer to you, and finally you can sense him standing over you. He takes a deep breath and you feel his hand on the top of your head, running down through your thick hair. You try not to show just how much you need him right now, but it’s almost impossible.

“Hey there, pretty little thing,” he said with a laugh as he moved his hand to your face. Caressing your cheek and running his fingers down to your lips. “I hope you’re ready for what I have planned for us.”

Oh, god YES! You squirmed just a little bit as you heard him speak, even the anticipation was getting you all hot and bothered.

“And what is that, exactly? Do I get to know? Or are you gonna surprise me?” You ask him in a seductive tone as you bite your lower lip and stare into his gorgeous eyes with a seductive look on your face. You could tell he absolutely loved it.

“Well I can’t spoil all the fun now, can I?” He said while he started to tie your wrists to the bed frame, taking extra care of your delicate skin as he continued humming softly. “Let’s just say I’ve been planning this for a while, making sure I got every detail just right.”

“Well I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” you said as you giggled and squirmed under him. You giggled once he tied your arms and legs to the bed frame, and took a step back to admire you. Suddenly you felt extremely nervous, which would make sense, considering how helpless and exposed you were now that he’s got you right where he wants you. He could see all of you, every single inch. No wonder he had such a big smile on his face.

“Like what you see?” You ask while staring up at him, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“You have no idea, kitten,” he said, staring back at you with his mesmerizing green eyes filled with lust. “You really are something else.”

“Well come and get me, Joker,” you said, biting your lower lip. Neither of you could contain yourselfs anymore. He threw the keys to the handcuffs on the table beside the bed and crawled up to you. You watched his painted face and green hair come closer ever so slowly. Paying close attention to that red smile that seemed to be growing bigger by the minute.

“Oh, Kitten,” he exhaled slowly and ran his hand through his hair before grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a kiss. “There are so many things going through my mind, I don’t even know where to begin!”

(to be continued)

[sounds-like-humpty-dumpty]

Mistakes (Part 2)

Summary: “"Y/N?" He breathed down the line. His voice unbelieving. "What?" She tried to sound snappy but it came out rather sad than angry. "Fuck, Y/N." There was shuffling on the other end. Then: "Hi. How are you? How have you been? Shit. I can't believe you actually picked up." He had the audacity to chuckle. She could tell he was drunk by the way he slurred the words a little. Y/N remained quiet.”

Angst, Van x Reader

Part 2 of 10 

(Part 1)

Y/N

She was sitting in her small single room that she occupied in a flatshare in the east of London. Tapping away on her laptop.

A couple of days after Van left, she managed to form this void inside her. She called it the grey void of nothingness. She could feel neither happy nor sad. She just existed. Numb. It was a coping mechanism. 

Every now and then she would slip. The grey turning black and the emotions crashing down on her. Then she would cry and howl and curse the whole fucking world.

But the grey void of nothingness helped her get things done. 

Helped her find a flatshare, where she could afford the rent. 

Helped her pack her stuff together and leave the house she had called home for years. 

Helped her wipe away any traces of her existence in it.

For a short moment when she packed all her belongings into boxes, she thought about leaving all the presents he had bought her. The dress she had tried on during their visit in New York, but after looking at the price tag, decided she would leave it in the store, just to find it in her suitcase after landing back home. The necklace he had given her with his initials as pendants. The cheesy love letter he had written her once after they had a huge fight and she pretended to move back to her parents.

However, she decided that she didn't want him to have those things of her either. So she gave the dress and necklace to charity and burned the letter. The void of nothingness helping her being less sentimental about the memories. 

....

She had a good streak that week. Hadn't slipped for four days. Just lived and breathed and worked. Distracted herself from the memories and emotion that lurked behind the thin wall in the back of her mind. They were ready to emerge and overwhelm her whenever she made the mistake of thinking about him. Even if it was just for a second. Last time she slipped was because she was shopping with a friend when she found a jacket. She thought about how good it would look on him and then remembered that it didn't matter because she would never see him again anyway. The emotions came crashing in then and she had to excuse herself and dart to the restrooms so people wouldn't see her crumbling down in public. She cried herself to sleep that night and woke up in nothingness the next morning.

She was sure she would have lasted longer than four days if it hadn't been for her phone ringing. Van's picture appearing on her screen. She couldn't pick up.

——— Van

He rang again. And again after that. And again. He even left a couple of voicemails: "Y/N pick up. I just wanna talk, okay?" "Fuck Y/N. Pick up your fucking phone." He even sent her some texts: "Please, can you pick up your phone? I just want to talk." "Y/N?" "Y/N, please. You don't have to say something. Just pick up yeah?"

He just wanted to know she was there. Wanted to know she still existed. But his texts and calls stayed unanswered.

——— Y/N

Van gave up after an hour. She hadn't turned the phone off. Just cried harder with every call she didn't answer. Like a masochist who couldn't get enough of the pain. Her crying lasted well through the night and into the early morning hours. How easy it would have been, if she could have just picked up. If she could have just listened to what he had to say. But the pain kept her from answering. Fear and a tiny bit of anger, too. What could he have said to make this better anyway? Nothing.

Nothing could make this better. The pain was there, he had caused it and it wouldn't go away. Nothing could make it stop.

——— Van

It's been a month since he came back home to their empty house. His empty house. He had bought it. It was his. And yet it didn't feel like it. It didn't feel like his house or his home. It just felt like another place to stay at. Like one of the houses, he and the lads stayed at while recording their last album. Familiar but not home. Not like it belonged to him. Not like he belonged in it.

He threw himself into work. Wrote song after song. Made the band fly to Berlin and then to Oslo just to write and record a few demos for their new album. Everything so he wouldn't have to spend too much time in that house. But the others quickly grew tired of his relentless work ethics and intervened. Van had no choice but to take a break. He decided to spend it with his parents up north.

However, he already began regretting this decision the first day he went home, as his mother asked him how Y/N was doing. Of course, he lied, said she was doing fine, just busy with work. He couldn't admit that they had split. If he mentioned it, he would also have to justify why. And he couldn't explain why he did what he did. He was too ashamed of it. But his parents could see how restless he was. They wanted to help. When they recognised that Van wouldn't spill what was bothering him, they turned to the only other person who would know. And while Larry didn't want to rat Van out, he, too, was worried about his best friend's behaviour. So Larry, who knew Van had broken up with Y/N, told them just that, hoping Van would finally come to terms with it.

...

Bernie sighed as he watched his son mindlessly strumming on the guitar. He knew Van, knew how stubborn he could be. How easily offended he could get if he felt ganged up on. "You need to talk to Y/N." He said and Van looked up at the mention of her name. Van furrowed his brows, not quite realising that his father knew.  "Even if it's just to end things properly. But son, you can't go on like this." Van understood then, that Bernie somehow had found out, and he clenched his jaw. "I tried, yeah?" he spat back. "I fucking tried but she won't answer the fucking phone. I don’t even know where she lives now." Mary, who had listened to their conversation from the kitchen, came into the room and commented "I still don't understand why you did it in the first place. I thought you were happy, the two of you. Last time we saw you, you went on about marrying that girl." Van got up, not caring about the guitar that hit the ground with a painful sounding thump. He wordlessly walked out of the room and towards the front door. He opened and slammed it shut, leaving his helpless parents behind. Heading for the next pub.

——— Y/N

It had been about a month since Van had called her. Two since they broke up. No, since he broke up with her.

Van's name appeared on her screen. This time it wasn't accompanied by his photo. She had deleted it. It was late in the evening and she was watching a movie on her laptop, trying to fall asleep, when he called. She contemplated whether she should answer it or not. But she felt stable enough in that moment. And she reasoned that she could hang up any time if she should need to. So she pressed the green button to accept.

There was silence on the other side. For a moment she wondered if he would say anything at all. She definitely wouldn't make the start. "Y/N?" He breathed down the line. His voice unbelieving. "What?" She tried to sound snappy but it came out rather sad than angry. "Fuck, Y/N." There was shuffling on the other end. Then: "Hi. How are you? How have you been? Shit. I can't believe you actually picked up." He had the audacity to chuckle. She could tell he was drunk by the way he slurred the words a little. Y/N remained quiet. When Van noticed that he wouldn't get an answer, he sobered up a little. "Can we talk?" He asked. "We are talking." She answered. "No. No, I mean face to face." "No." Silence. "I miss you." Now it was Y/N's turn to chuckle. It was cold and sarcastic. Designed to mask the pain she was feeling. "Is that all?" She asked and was glad she didn't choke on the words. There was silence on the other end of the line, only Van's breathing. "I'm going to hang up now." She said and did just that, without giving Van the chance to object.

——— Van

He called her again the next night. This time less drunk. Hoping she would pick up again. To his astonishment, she did. "Hi" he greeted her. "What?" She sighed. "Just wanna talk, is all." He tried to sound nice, unthreatening. "I have nothing to say to you." She retorted. "That’s fine. You don't have to. I can do the talking." "Van, I'm tired." Silence. Van wanted to ask her to say his name again. But he feared she would just hang up if he did. "Ok, you can fall asleep while I talk, just- just don't hang up ok?" She didn't answer but also didn't hang up. "I-" he wanted to apologise. Wanted to tell her how sorry he was, but it just didn't feel right over the phone. "The lads and I were in Berlin a couple weeks back. Remember that time we went together?" He was met with silence but he kept on going. He told her news from Bondy, knowing how well she got on with him. Told her about Larry and Bob and Benji and what they were all up to. He kept on rambling over an hour, always finding new stories to tell her. So much had happened in the two months. 

Of course, he left out the stories that happened during the nights when he was drinking too much, picking fights with his friends because he wanted to scream and make them feel as angry as he felt. 

When he didn't have any more stories left to tell, he quietly asked into his phone: "Y/N?" She mumbled "Hm?" He knew she was almost asleep, so didn't answer. Just kept quiet and pressed his phone closer to his ear so he could hear her breathing. When it evened out and he was sure she was fully asleep he softly said "I'm sorry, I fucked up." and hung up.

2/10

(Part 3)

[fadingvitality]

The Fourth Christmas

*The lights were a colorful blur through the rain rolling down the windows. Somehow the image was reflective of me. I hated crying. Passionately, emphatically, more-than-anything hated it. I wiped forcefully at my cheeks, aggravated with myself for letting it happen. This year it was hitting harder than others. Damn holiday cheer and all the radio stations with the carols on constant rotation.  

My parents had LOVED the holidays with a fierce commitment. Hosting Christmas open houses, annual Nutcracker attendance, gingerbread house making, decorating to the nines, and spoiling me rotten were all part of their fa-la-la traditions. The time of year triggered so much - too much.

My dad would make me peppermint hot chocolate on Christmas Eve while we watched The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and later National Lampoon’s. Momma would be making an overnight, French toast strata, and stuffing the stockings while I couldn’t see. I never wanted for anything, and by some miracle, their indulging me never led to being materialistic. 

And then it happened, my dad had died after a freak accident that had ultimately led to sepsis. There were ups and downs during the course of his illness that we weathered with hope, but ultimately...he didn’t make it. My heart broke in two, though his peaceful last breath had a beauty about it that I would never forget.  

Christmas was still months away when he passed, but I dreaded its arrival as the days came and went, spring turning to summer then autumn and finally winter.  My mom fought through tears she didn’t think I saw, baking cookies, buying the tree - the sparse kind he preferred over her preference for something fluffy and full.

But there was no more Grinch. No more National Lampoon’s. After he was gone, I couldn’t stomach even the ads for them, it always left me bursting into the hated tears. At that particular juncture in my life, tears were a total disaster, considering how heavy handed with the eyeliner and mascara I had been. 

Those traditions had been ours, his and mine. That first Christmas I was only just seventeen, and she had spoiled me with the most perfect and heart wrenching gift. Wrapped in a way that wouldn’t give me a clue, I had a momentary swell of pure joy on sight of his bass. 

What had once been his...an extension of his very soul, had been entrusted to me. A shiver shot up my spine, and I could swear he was right there with us. I would cherish it and care for it more than any other Christmas gift I’d ever received. 

As the years droned on, I did my best to support my mom, especially as she tended to get down herself. There were no more open houses, so we started going to the movies on Christmas Eve. We would still make the gingerbread houses and over-decorate. When she started crying in the eggs for the French toast strata, I drew a line.  I urged her to switch to an eggs bene with home fried potatoes, justifying the switch by saying we needed to balance out the sugar in the cookies with some salty and savory. In many ways our roles had shifted. I always found myself guiding her, and then she learned to rely on me. I tried to comfort her with so much love, she would forget the loss of hers...but I knew, deep down, those were Vans I could’ never fill. My parents would gross people out with how much they loved each other. I had the front row seat to their ups and downs, but they always worked their shit out. 

It made sense she carried the loss so heavily, and there was another thing I hated, that I couldn’t fix it for her. I would always wonder if maybe that was what really took her… her fractured heart, her half life without him, the lingering grief that trained behind her. It happened a meager four and a half years later. Four Christmases more, but not nearly enough.  

The doctors said it over and over and over but my mind was in deny and reject mode: brain aneurysm. There was a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo and explanations that translated as clearly as Charlie Brown’s teacher handing down an assignment. 

Ultimately, she was brain dead, kept alive by machines because she had been an organ donor. That choice had relieved me from everything but the formalities of signing paperwork. I’d not left her side for three days as the arrangements were made. 

Her hand was so confusingly warm in mine, and there was no strain in her expression, but peace. I had briefly considered taking her picture because she looked so beautiful, like Snow White in wait...only her true love’s kiss would have her waking on the other side. 

A chaplain had come to check on me. While I’d really, really wanted to be left alone, he’d made a suggestion that I would always be grateful for. In asking if there was anything special I wanted to do to say goodbye, I was suddenly stricken with inspiration. It was as if my dad had whispered in my ear. After assurances the chaplain would stay until I could get back, I took off. I made the trip as quickly as possible, returning with my dad’s bass. 

At first my fingers were shaky, and I wasn’t sure I could actually make it through. With a deep breath my voice cracked when I started to sing “Across the Universe,” one of my momma’s favorite songs.

My hands eventually trembled too much to continue, tears rolled down my cheeks, but I finished acapella, minus all the accessory "Jai Guru Deva, Om." It was only hours later I said my real goodbye, more than deeply saddened I wouldn’t be holding her hand at last breath. 

I was just twenty-two and both my parents were gone. I didn’t have extended family, both my parents were only children, like me. There were many friends, theirs and mine, that supported me but eventually even that waned. I poured myself into songwriting and singing, exorcising my feelings through the medium of music. My refuge. My confidante. I had makeshift, misfit families, composed of bandmates and their different circles of family and friends. I got by. I did my best. I extinguished the darkest thoughts and even darker tendencies. Christmas was my kryptonite, though. The outward bitchiness and bah humbug really came down to a defense mechanism. I couldn’t let anyone see the pain that pooled on my insides. 

This year, though, was going to be my fourth without both of them and that struck me. Four without him, then four without both of them. Sitting in my apartment, alone, it felt bigger and more empty than ever. I finally pulled my eyes away from the window, turning my head towards the small tree I had picked up just a little while ago. It was full and fluffy, like my mom had liked. 

I’d managed to set aside enough of my tips to swing it, even though every dollar should have been saved and it seemed extravagant. I had also splurged on a few groceries to treat myself to something other than ramen. My eyes then drifted down to the cup in my hands. The shock had worn off to a degree, but still, I was stunned.

The tree lot around the corner was run by volunteer firefighters with all proceeds going to charity. I didn’t want anything big, so my donation was completely meager, but at least I was supporting something meaningful. The guy handling the transactions had been pretty damn jolly, I was convinced he had put in some years as Santa, maybe still was. 

He was as gracious with me as he had been to the person that had dropped a mint on the eight footer just before me.

“Your cheeks are rosy, sweetheart, and I’m guessing that’s because of the cold. Give me a minute.” 

He turned away from me, doing something I couldn’t see because he was pleasantly portly. When he turned back around, he had a cup in hand, which he gave to me. 

"Peppermint hot chocolate, on me. Happy Holidays.” 

A familiar shiver wrapped around my spine. I blinked at the man, looking over his shoulder to see he had hot cider, coffee and peppermint hot chocolate in crock pots. It took me a few seconds to find the ability to speak.*

Happy Holidays to you. *I had lifted the cup in a gesture.* Thank you…

*Cup in one hand, full and fluffy yet petite tree in the other, I had walked home in a complete daze. I was in a state of abject disbelief. How had he known? What had him deciding on the peppermint hot chocolate? What if I wanted coffee, or cider? I didn’t know, and I really didn’t care. I’d propped the tree in a stand before I’d kicked off my shoes and dropped onto the couch. 

Sitting with the cup in my hands, I clutched it like a lifeline. The physical loneliness was stifling, and heavy. I lifted the cup, the scent of peppermint hitting my nose first, followed quickly by the rich, chocolate steam.  Memories swarmed at first sip, and I didn’t swallow them along with the hot chocolate. I closed my eyes as the flavor lingered, an inkling of the Christmas spirit I inherited returning. There was a third, winding chill up my spine. Somehow, some way, I just knew, no matter the depths of loneliness I felt, my parents were right there, with me. Always.*

[jj-lynn21]

You will remember things that we never said ch 6

Warning: angst, fluff,  

Radiohead -talk show host

Dolly Trauma songs: "Stephanie" , Trepana 

ch 1,  ch 2,  ch 3, ch 4  ch 5 ch 7

Stephanie gets ready nervously. She doesn’t want to disappoint Axel but is pretty sure she will. She knows in all reality Lisa wasn’t the only person he has been with. And She is practically a virgin in his world. A big part of her doesn’t even know why he is interested.

She thinks, the fact he said he loves me doesn’t really mean he does, does it? Why am I even going though with this with someone so experienced? She looked in the mirror. Twirled in her black flirty mini skirt. Adjusted her breasts in her hot pink low-cut t-shirt. And took a deep cleansing breath. To late to back out now girl he will be here any minute.

       Axel texted:

        You ready?

       Stephanie:

       I think so. Be right down.

She grabbed her phone. Put it in her backpack with some over night necessities. And went to get in Axel’s truck.

As soon as Stephanie is in his truck Axel pulls her face over to kiss her deep and powerfully. Her hands go under his arms to hold his shoulders while he keeps kissing her until he needs a full breath. His eyes are dark green hungry when he eventually pulls away. “You look so good I could eat you right now Stephanie.” A low growl rumbled from his chest. “But I can wait.” He pulls away from the building to head to the venue.

Stephanie gasped as she heard the sound coming from him. Her eyes were wide. She was a mix of turned on and scared. She decided talking about schoolwork would calm her body’s reactions.

“I got a lot of work done.” She tried to sound casual. “I’m ahead on most of my subjects.”

“I’m sure you always get your work done and do what your told,” He picked her hand up to kiss it while focusing one eye on her and one on the road.

Stephanie was amazed how he could do that.  He liked she hadn’t mentioned how weird his eyes were. He knew she had to notice.

“Did you do your tattoos yourself Axel?” She watched him drive so confidently.

“Some of them.” He kept a hold of her hand like it was a lifeline.

“Why the one on your neck.” She was curious about all of them really. “It is so abrasive.”

“That tat scares off most of the people that fucking suck.” Axel was bluntly honest. “You know how the world is Stephanie. Most people are just asshats.”

“I guess,” She looks down biting her lip.

“My innocent pretty girl.” He smiled. “I guess that’s why I love you. I think my next tat will be the picture I did for Art class. Somewhere everyone can see it.”

She giggled, “Really?”

He pulled into the bar parking lot. “Yes, really.”

Axel gets out of the truck. He rushes around to open Stephanie’s door. “Todd and Drake have all the equipment with them. I need to help them carry things inside after I set you up at the bar, alright?”

“You want me to help carry equipment?” She asked.

Axel puts his hand on her lower back ushering her inside. “No need for that. Sit right here for now.” He kisses her quickly. Then gets the bar tender’s attention. “Give her a virgin colada. Does that sound good Stephanie.”

“Yes, Axel.” She smiles.

Axel leaves to help his bandmates who are just coming in the door. They set up a merchandise table in the back with CDs and T-shirts before setting up their equipment.

 Stephanie sips on her drink watching excitedly as they set up on the small stage just a few feet away. Drake slams his drum set. Tightens a few things. Then slams them some more. Todd tunes a few of his guitars. Axel blows in the mic and grins at the sound and how Stephanie is watching. He puts a guitar around him starting to play a few cords with his back turned. 

Stephanie perks up as she hears him play. It’s the first time she has seen him play the guitar and not just sing. Even though there isn’t to many people in the bar her initial instinct is to rush up to the stage. She holds herself back.

“Let’s warm up with Talk Show Host by Radio Head ” Zeitgeist starts playing. Axel turns around to start singing into the microphone.

“I want to I want to be someone else or I'll explode Floating upon the surface for the birds The birds The birds

You want me Fucking and come and find me I'll be waiting With a gun and a pack of sandwiches and nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing

You want me Well come on and break the door down You want me Fucking come on and break the door down I'm ready I'm ready I'm ready I'm ready I'm ready I'm ready”

Stephanie is biting her lip as Axel jumps off stage and walks over to her. His face is emotionless. He kiss her cheek and rests a hand on her knee as he look around her to get the bartenders attention. “I need two Millers and a bottled water.”

The bar tender nod and gets him what he asked for.

Axel looks at Stephanie intensely. “How did that sound from here Stephanie?”

“It was great Axel,” She was all starry eyed. “I love that song.”

“Me to,” He grins rubbing his hand over her knee. “let me give these beers to the guys and we will all go hang out by the merch table until it is time for us to go on.”

“Cool,” Stephanie said.

Todd and Drake were setting the bands equipment aside. They took their beers and hoped off stage going straight to the merchandise table. Axel took Stephanie’s hand. People started filtering into the bar. They went to the back, Stephanie sat down as Axel and the other guys started chatting with fans and selling their merch. Occasionally, Axel looked back to Stephanie with a nod. She smiled and nodded back.

A young girl Stephanie thinks might have snuck in the back of the club or had a fake ID giggled as Axel shows her the merch on the table. After she buys something, she leans in, to hug Axel. Stephanie gets up. She rubs Axel’s back. He puts his arm around her. The girl stands with a smirk on her face.

“Sally this is my girlfriend, Stephanie.” Axel kisses Stephanie’s cheek. Sally walks away. Axel holds up an XL sweatshirt to Stephanie. “We don’t have any smaller left, but you want this one?”

Stephanie nods yes. Axel slides it on her. Then puts a CD in the front pocket. He whispers, “You can wear this when you miss me. Listen to the CD to hear my voice.”

Shivers run through her body. “Thanks Axel.

Drake shakes his head watching them, “I didn’t know we were giving free merch to band bitches now.”

Axel glares at him.

Stephanie laughs, “Well, now you know.”

Axel looks at her and chuckles. “Yeah Drake, now you know.”

He introduces Stephanie to a few more fans as she helps sell the merch. He gets a guy to buy an extra large for his girl because it looks so cute on Stephanie. She blushes a little when Axel has her turn around to model the look. Zeigeist packs up their merch as the next band comes in to sell their stuff. 

Drake and Todd take the boxes of left over merch to the van. Axel pulls Stephanie into a dark corner to kiss her. He reaches under her skirt rubbing her slit through her panties.

“Not long now,” He whispers to her. “Go on up in your spot. I have a performance to do. And Then we go to my place..”

Stephanie gasps when she feels Axel’s touch. She bites her lip not to make a sound. With the loudness of the crowd no one would probably hear her anyway, but she didn’t want to take that chance. Axel goes to the backstage area. Stephanie makes her way to the front of the stage. It is not super packed so she has no problem. She notices all females up front and smirks. She knows what most of these girls are after and he’s taken.

When Zeigeist takes the stage and begin to play people scream. Axel nods to Stephanie. Then acknowledges the audience. “Thank you for coming out to hear us tonight and buying our shit. This first one’s called Trepana 

The music starts. Axel looks down until its time for him to start singing. “Stealing one glimpse of a moment forbidden. Each tells the other it laid as we planned it. Ten minutes later a whisper in my ear. Two minutes later, why am I still here. Will you remember things that we never said.,,If this was simple would sleep follow liquid. And if he was watching would I still make you wet? And why is it up to me always, always up to you, up to us. Two minutes later I’ve known you forever. In the next life, Will you remember things that we never sang…darling first my darling first, You will remember things that we never sang, you will remember…tell me how this will end…we never said…Just because.”

Stephanie revels in the sound. She worships at the stage alter like many others there. Some stand with their arms wrapped around their partners in front of them. They’re not jealous how horny Zeitgeist, especial Axel, gets their partners. They know it will only benefit them at the end of the night.

“This is something new,” Axel straps a guitar around him. “It’s called Stephanie” He begins to play and sings, “She’s on her knees and she lying, she’s one degree from receiving, there’s got to be why she lying,  beer on the floor, she a diamond, So, where will you sleep tonight,,, Stephanie I think your minds miles away, your talking to rocks again, its funny how I can’t believe you today, this time was no good for us,  luck justified is amazing, she is a tease like a new string, theft justified is amazing, so take what you need, it’s a good thing, And where will you sleep tonight… Stephanie I think your minds arms away,  I wanna go, we need to go, I’d love to go…This time is no good for us,.. You say, you say, I want everything to be great for us, happy like nothing’s wrong…when will the fire be going out. When will divine voices call you out.. Want me, Stephanie…When will you say that we’re going out…”

Axel takes the guitar off. He jumps down to Stephanie. She wraps her arms around him tightly tears in her eyes.

Axel holds her as some fans stare, “Sorry if that’s not what you expected. I was still fucking pissed when I wrote part of it.”

“I loved it Axel,” She kissed him. He kissed her back. “And I will tell whoever you want, we are going out.”

“Will you be sure to tell Ryan?” Axel murmurs in her ear.

“I haven’t talk to him since the movie Axel.” She leaned her forehead against his. “But I will tell him I only belong to you the next time I see him.”

“I like the sound of that,” Axel grins. “Your mine. Let’s go to my place.” 

He puts his hand on her back, escorting Stephanie out of the club. A few people stop to say they loved the new song. He just nodded as he moved on with her. His hair and body dripped with sweat. Some droplets dripped down his face. There was something about the pheromones he gave off that still attracted Stephanie in his perspiring state. She didn’t mind being close to him at all. 

[infernal-crows]

I have this headcanon

That like. Matthias is kind of a restless ghost. Like he's so happy to have gotten to Nina and gotten things off his chest, but...he's not quite finished yet. So, he drifts. He doesn't stray from Fjerdan for a little while, happy to float just above the snow he loved so much and try to catch a whiff of the bakery that smelled of his childhood. He checked in on Trassel once, but the wolf's howl of pain drove Matthias right out. He couldn't listen to that sound, not when he's the one that caused it.

He catches sight of a ship, and he thinks he hears a name very familiar to him, but he blames it on the strange effect death must have had on his hearing. But then he hears it again. Captain Ghafa. He moves to the side of the boat, laughing to himself when he sees The Wraith painted onto the side.

"You've done it, Wraith."

So Matthias hops up into the crow's nest--he lets himself have a laugh about that one--and watches Inej as she sets course for Ketterdam. She doesn't say it, but Matthias has a feeling that she's just as eager to see a certain Barrel boss as she is to throw her personal crook info Hellgate.

For a split second he thinks Inej is looking at him. And maybe she is; that girl was always much too skilled for Matthias' sanity. But then she turns away and he goes back to staring out at the sea with a wonder he never knew he had. It's glorious, really, from up here. Inej must have a much different perspective of Ketterdam and the blue canvas of the waters around her when she can scale things so easily.

Then they get to Ketterdam, and Matthias leaves the Wraith with a ghostly touch to her shoulder--and again, he can swear she sees him.

He floats away to the Van Eck household, eager to see it being packed up--or, Djel forgive him, demolished--but what he sees is so much better; Wylan and Jesper, sitting in the study, going through papers together. Wylan is scribbling down some equation that not even Matthias in his new state can find the patience for, and Jesper is reading a document aloud while fiddling with the pistols still fixed to his hips. Matthias thinks they're more for comfort and habit than risk of actual use.

He stays there for a while, happy to see Wylan and Jesper make a nice home for themselves. Jesper offers to go out and get some needed ingredient for Wylan, swearing up and down that he won't touch a deck of cards or a wheel that calls out his name. Matthias believes him, if just for a moment, so be focuses on Wylan. He's staring at the painting of his ancestor of some sort, fists clenched in frustration. Matthias reaches down, much more confident with his physical affection now that there's no real physical aspect to it, but Wylan--he immediately relaxes. As soon as Matthias' hand ghosts over his shoulder, all puns intended, he sags and starts to head to the music room. Transfixed, Matthias follows, watching with rapt attention as Wylan picks up his beloved flute--and plays a Fjerdan folk song. Matthias is stunned, eagerly soaking up the lilting melodies and deep whistles that wrap around him like a blanket. He grins, impossibly happy and sees that Wylan is smiling a little too, and heads out to check in Jesper. He may have said he wouldn't fall victim to his vices, but Matthias tells himself a concerned visit is justified.

Jesper where he said he'd be, eyeing market stalls to see if they have what Wylan asked for. But then when he's found it, he stops on his path. He circles back, oblivious to the stream of Fjerdan expletives happening right above him, to stare at the gambling dens that were once as homey as Jesper's bedroom. Damn this Zemeni Sharpshooter. Matthias floats down, arms crossed and glaring his best ghostly glare right into Jesper's skull. Much to his happiness, Jesper chuckles to himself and keeps walking, back to the carriage that brought him here like nothing ever happened. Matthias smiles, but doesn't follow. There's one more stop he has to make tonight, and after a familiar six-day trip across the sea, Matthias wants to see the demjin in his territory. Not that the Barrel was ever anything else, of course.

And he's sitting there, as outwardly happy as Kaz Brekker could ever be, sorting through papers. Matthias couldn't read the papers in Kerch, but if the small quirk to the demjin's lips was anything to go by, there was a profitable deal in his future. Matthias didn't have any plan when he came here, only wanted to see the final member of the crew--his crew, he supposes, before the sun rises again and he goes about his business. As Matthias sits in the chair across from Kaz, he could swear the smirk grew. Djen, when the demjin dies, Matthias is going to make his ghost's un-life an un-living hell, he swears it. But he does it in the fondest way possible, sad as that is.

Matthias sits on the roof of the Crow Club, then . . . Then he floats over to Little Ravka. Bone shards and bakes goods and refugee Grisha come to life in his mind like a painting, strokes of colour, ruby and shamrock and the loveliest shade of coffee. Brown waves that Matthias could have lost himself in for the rest of his life, snark that kept him on his toes, and a love so strong he thought himself invincible. Now he's here, and that love is something he cherishes, but he has no desire to go and bother Nina. He's completely comfortable in the knowledge that Nina Zenik will spend her life trying to make the drüskelle understand the way she made Matthias understand. He loves her for it, and will probably love her forever.

His crew will be safe, he thinks. He just hopes they don't go on any overly exciting heists without him.

-

THAT turned out a lot longer than I thought it would. Whoops? And I dunno how to put a "read more" on mobile, so . . . Sorry?

[dnly]

Her Reasons | J.A.

Y/N got distant to Jack and he doesn't know why.

warning(s): angst, swearing

word count: 2102

a/n: requested by anon. yes, jack avery yayy :) i was thinking about blurbs, just send them. enjoy!

"Home sweet home!" Corbyn announced as the van stopped in front of the apartment complex where all of the Why Don't We boys' families live. Everybody woke up from their sleep, they got jet lag after that ten hour flight from Europe to USA.

They went to the elevator all the way up, the five boys bid goodbyes as they depart from each other heading to their respected apartments. Jack was the last one to reach his apartment, he used his spare key to get in.

"WELCOME HOME JACK!!!" he was surprised seeing his family setted up a surprise for him. He's genuinely happy to see his family after almost two months of not seeing them. They were his gems.

"I missed you, baby." his mom hugged him as he set his luggage down.

"Missed you too, mom." he replied, not long when he felt someone hugging his torso. He smiled picking Isla up.

"I miss you so much, Jack." she wrapped her arms around his brother and hugged him. Jack also gave his sisters and his dad hugs as well.

The Averys and Stanfords had lunch in the table complete, it was nice to finally had lunch together, with Jack in it. This rarely happen since Jack has been very busy with his career.

"Why is Y/N not around?" Jack spilled, he had been thinking about this since he got home. He was curious as to why Y/N, his girlfriend, not involved in this surprise.

"She's busy, I guess." Ava shrugged, among the siblings, she's more close to her.

"Yeah, I remember her telling me how she has been busy with school lately." Sydney butted in.

"But she took online classes," Jack furrowed his brows as he takes another bite from his meat.

It was getting suspicious. Jack didn't believe with her excuse, he isn't dumb that she's just making up excuses. Though, this isn't the first Y/N got very suspicious. The other day, while the Why Don't We boys went strolling around London, Jack couldn't stop himself from calling his girlfriend. So he did.

To his suprise, Y/N ignored his calls. He even sent her a voicemail, but he only got one text from her. Saying, she was very busy and doesn't have time to talk. She then added that Jack should take care of himself and whatnot.

As much as Jack wanted to sleep in his comfy bed after having a jet lag, he drives off on the way to Y/N's house just to see her. He missed her so much that he'll do anything just to see her.

Not long when Jack arrived at Y/N's, walking to her doorsteps and knocked. Jack felt nervous, he didn't know why, maybe because it has been a couple of months since the last time he visited. Maybe because he haven't seen his girlfriend for almost two months or maybe he was nervous because something was up?

Jack ringed the doorbell once again, then finally he heard the sound of the door opening. He then saw Y/N's younger sister, Elora.

"Hi Jack!" the twelve year old girl greeted excitedly and gave her sister's boyfriend a hug. Jack has always been good with kids.

"Nice to see you, El."

"You too." they pulled away from each other.

"Is Y/N's home?" Jack asked. Elora smiled and nodded, she opened the door widely so Jack can come in.

"She's upstairs, I'm sure she'll be surprised to see you!" she giggled as she ran to the living room, leaving Jack alone in the hallway of her girlfriend's house.

I hope she will, Jack thought.

As the boy reaches the second floor of Y/N's house, Jack couldn't imagine the last time he was here. It looked like way too different. It felt different.

Jack knocked at the cream colored door of Y/N which also has a sticker that says 'Keep Out!' in capital letters. He smiled as he smiled reminiscing in the memory he got with Y/N with that sticker.

Jack and Y/N went to Target that time, she then found that sticker and she was so obsessed with it that she had to get it. They sticked that sticker together. It was just a little thing they did, but it means a lot to him.

"Baby?" Jack called out as he opened the door seeing his girlfriend playing her ukulele. He couldn't even recognize the song she was playing, all that matters that he finally saw her. He missed her so much.

Y/N noticed someone at the door, she looked up to see who it was. It was his boyfriend, Jack.

Jack saw Y/N surprised with what she saw. She was suprised, Elora was right. Jack thought.

"J-Jack..." Y/N stuttered as she stood up and walked towards Jack, as she got closer to him he hugged him tight. "You should be at home right now, getting rest."

He pulled away, way too surprised with his words. "Wait, you knew I'm home?"

Y/N pursed her lips and nodded. Jack was surprised that she knew, what suprised him more is that she didn't even bother to call him or see him.

"Why didn't you call me or something?" the boy furrowed his brows, he thought it was pathetic of her to not call to hang-out. Jack just couldn't believe her.

"Jack, you're tired and you need to res-"

"No, no, no." he cutted her off, "Why are you being like this? I'm like here, right now, with you. I went here to see you even though I just got home from whatever country I was in and you're pushing me away. Do you have any idea how stress I am right now?"

Y/N couldn't construct a sentence for him to justify what she just said. She looked down, "Yeah, you're right. Jack, I have no idea how stress you are and I'm sorry." she paused, "Can we just talk this out tomorrow? Get some rest."

Jack was carried away with his emotions, he was tired. Yeah, it was true. Though, he didn't realized how it hurted Y/N's feelings. I fucked up, Jack thought.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I didn't me-"

"It's okay, Jack. I understand." Y/N cutted him off, "Really. You need rest."

Jack knew with Y/N's mood right now, he won't be able to talk to her properly and the fact that she only called him 'Jack' and not like their nicknames for each other, he knew something was up.

"We're going to talk tomorrow, right?" the boy asked and she nodded. "Okay, I'll see tomorrow, then." Jack waited for her to reply but she didn't, he then decided to leave.

As he was on the way home, many things were running inside his head. Why is she being like this? Was she mad? Why is she so distant? What did I do? Is she falling out of love?

Questions were hunting Jack, he couldn't answer those, only Y/N can answer it.

Even in his sleep, it felt like nightmare. He barely sleep that night. He couldn't stop thinking about Y/N.

* * * *

Jack met up with the Why Don't We boys first before his brunch with Y/N. They were all gathered at Corbyn's apartment where they can play Fortnite. It was odd to see Jack not play Fortnite, because he was always up for it, but this time, he wasn't.

"Boyband meeting, how nice." Corbyn's younger sister, Ashley, spoke as she saw the boys in the living room.

"We are a man band." Jonah corrected as he sips from his coffee.

"Whatever, I'm leaving." she replied as she leaves.

"Woah, she's feisty." Zach grinned as he played Fortnite with Corbyn.

"Don't even think about it, Herron. She's my little sister." Corbyn spat as his eyes still on the game, and the boys laughed. Except for Jack.

"Someone woke up at the wrong side," Daniel joked as he flips his phone which earned chuckles from the boys.

"Hey, what's wrong bro? Hair problem?" Jonah asked sarcastically.

"Fuck you, Jonah." Jack glared which made the boys furrow their brows.

"Woah, it's very early to hear curses inside Besson's household. Care to explain why your mood is poor?" Corbyn spoke which made Jack sigh heavily.

"It's Y/N."

"What happened?" Daniel asked with concern, all of them were concern to their noodlehead friend that they have to stop whatever they're doing so they could listen.

"She's so distant lately, she barely text or call. Yesterday, I went to see her and she told me that I should be home, getting rest." Jack explained, "It felt like she's getting rid of me. I told her shitty things yesterday, I was such an asshole." his vision was getting blurry and his voice broke. "It feels like she doesn't love me anymore."

The boys went up to him and gave him a hug, Jack was crying. It was rare for Jack to cry for girls, he was usually a crybaby when it comes to his mom and sisters.

"Bro, I'm sure she has her reasons." Jonah said which made Jack looked up at him, "What I meant is that she has her reasons why she was so distant lately.".

"Just talk this out with her." Daniel smiled and they hugged once more.

"It'll be okay, dude." Corbyn said.

"Hey, Zach. Any words of encouragement?" Jonah asked Zach.

Zach paused for a bit, "Go Jack!" he cheered while he raised both of his arms and all the boys laughed.

* * * *

After their food arrived, Jack finally spoke. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

Y/N smiled, "It's okay, that was a bitchy move when I said it. I didn't mean it like that."

"Hey, don't say that. I was such an asshole." he stated which made Y/N chuckle.

"I guess, we're even." she shrugged as they eat, "Jack... I have reasons why I was being like this, you know."

She has her reasons, Jack thought.

He didn't reply as a sign that Y/N should continue, "You've been travelling a lot and I understand how hard it is for you to balance your time with work, family and me, it's not easy to deal with it." she started, "I don't want to be that kind of girlfriend who asks for attention 24/7 because I know you couldn't, you are way too busy for that. But I mean, even a little time from you won't hurt, right? My role as your girlfriend is to support you all the way as long as you're happy."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I really am." Jack spoke genuinely.

"Hey, don't be sorry." she hissed, "What makes you happy, makes me happy. You reaching your dreams makes me happy and I won't take that away from you. Jack, you have no idea how proud I am."

Jack furrowed his brows, "Wait, are you breaking up with me?"

"What the fuck? Of course not." she chuckled.

"Then why are you saying this?"

"I just wanted to tell you how proud I am. I was being distant lately, because I understand how stress and how tired you are from your work and I wanted to give you space. When you were on tour, I realized how burden I was to you. I just didn't want you to be obligated of me."

"Y/N, don't say that. Please don't, you are not a burden."

"These couple of days off from tour should be your rest time, you know. Your health matters to me and I'm not going to be selfish with the rest you deserve." she explained, "And if you're thinking that I don't love you anymore, stop that. I love you so much, you mean a lot to me. I'm just being understanding with what you are going through right now."

Jack gestured Y/N for a hug, she went to his side of the booth and hugged him. "You're making me cry. I love you."

"I love you too, baby. I rarely see you cry, I'm glad it worked." she laughed as she hugged her boyfriend.

It was just a little thing Y/N did for Jack after all the love that Jack gave to her. He deserves to be loved. He deserves to be supported after all the hardwork he did to succeed.

[ryanmeft]

Mary Poppins Returns Movie Review

Of all the words I thought I might end up using to describe the new Mary Poppins film, “cynical” was not one. Yet here we are. It is a very pretty thing, engaging the use of many very talented people, that nonetheless feels like it was assembled by a marketing department. What you do to get a movie like this is realize no one’s cashed in on a beloved property in quite some time, see dollar signs, snag some well-respected actors and a musician to give the thing the illusion you cared about it, then sit back and rely on the fact that you’re Disney and everyone is in goddamn love with you to avoid having it criticized. A quarry of sugar wouldn’t help here.

The plot barely needs mentioned. Michael (Ben Whishaw) and Jane (Emily Mortimer) Banks are all growed up, and Michael is having trouble making ends meet after the death of his unseen wife. He still lives in the same house, but has three children of his own, who with one exception feel they have had to grow up quickly in the absence of a mother. Michael very much needs to find proof he owns stock in the bank to prevent them foreclosing and wait just a damn minute here. Disney, we had this conversation, back when you decided to give the Mad Hatter depression: do not inject real-life problems into settings that depend entirely on being ridiculous to work. I do not care about the stocks, and neither does anyone else, especially when you utterly waste Colin Firth on the role of a villainous banker so entirely cliche he could have been lifted straight out of It’s a Wonderful Life. Then Mary Poppins shows up, played by Emily Blunt, and this is the point where the movie should finally wake up.

It does, for a bit, despite the insistence on saddling her with the most cliche plot device possible: Michael and Jane refuse to believe her childhood magic feats were real. I propose an instant punishable-with-lashings moratorium on this most tired of family film developments. But let me take a breath. The shoes of Poppins are switched from the feet of Julie Andrews to those of Emily Blunt, who is a more than satisfactory pick for the role. She wears an updated costume that is either meant to show off Blunt’s figure or does a good job of it entirely by coincidence, has a slightly sharper edge to her sarcasm and the hinted-at presence of such a human emotion as sadness, and in general has been upgraded just enough to capture the rapt attention of modern five-year-olds without sacrificing a bit of the old-school charm that has made the character a classic. She is just a little flirtatious, just a little prideful, and still as inexplicable; my personal theory is she’s some kind of pagan god, but that just opens up a wormhole we probably don’t need.

Speaking of entrances, she insists this time she will not go until “the door is open”. It’s an effective bit of mystery that occasionally hints at more plot than the movie needs, but is resolved in a sweet and touching way. She has the movie’s one truly attention-grabbing musical number, “A Cover is Not The Book”, in which all those strange feelings young you (admit it) had about the character as you approached teenagerdom are made as explicit as a family film can make them. It includes a verse about a tree and its roots that is so obvious to any adults in the audience I’m frankly shocked it made it past the censoring. It’s a raucous, Moulin Rouge-style number in which Poppins-Blunt dons a sensational purple outfit, lets down her practically perfect hair and goes full vaudeville, and the one point in the entire film where it effectively stamps out a distinct identity from the original (the animation it is accompanied by is delightfully throwbackish). Blunt was just about sculpted for this role in every way.

Indeed, perhaps in too many ways, because in nearly every scene where Poppins is not the center of attention, the film rolls over and dies. The original movie is well-known as one of Disney’s best musicals, leaving this one a lot to live up to. A wonderfully unreal song set in the ocean finds the right tone, with the perfect sort of unreality to the special effects that we’ve come to lose appreciation for in the age of computers, but sadly these are the only two memorable numbers. The rest, which include a soporific thing about London’s gas lights and a blatant-but-unsuccessful shot at recapturing that wonderful chimney sweeping routine, were in desperate need of the masterful touch of Lin-Manuel Miranda. The Hamilton mega-star is for some reason in the movie as a somewhat effective replacement for Dick Van Dyke’s Cockney working man, but didn’t get so much as a verse on the soundtrack. That’s incredibly puzzling, given Hamilton was such a sensation it actually got me into a non-movie theatre, and his work on Moana made it the only modern Disney musical with a soundtrack entirely worth having. I don’t see a lot of (read: any) Broadway, so I can’t say if Marc Shaiman and/or Scott Wittman are otherwise worthy as composers and lyricists.

I can say I’m thankful most of their numbers are merely forgettable, because then there’s the tragic case of “Turning Turtle”. This is clearly meant to fill the same hole as “I Love to Laugh”, but fails utterly, with a cringe-inducing cameo from Meryl Streep, doing a horrific Russian caricature that brings any momentum the movie had built to a thunderous halt. It’s a mystery why it, and Streep, are in the movie, especially considering Disney can’t appear to stop paying her despite her arrogant and unfounded rant a few years ago about their founder. That would be fine if she were doing good work, but even the Academy would have to stretch to justify nominating her for this, and that is saying something. Not-so-special appearances from Dick Van Dyke and Angela Lansbury are equally groan-inducing, forced into the film in order to get bonus credit from long-time fans rather than because they actually work. In one respect and one respect only is the film a total success, and that’s visually. Depression-era London (it’s the Great Slump to them) is handled gorgeously, like a fine China vase with almost nothing in it.

The rest of the film, somewhere between unbearably dull and oh-so-brief flashes of brilliance, is a muddled stew of homage, preferring to wink and nod at the audience when a beloved scene is given tribute or an old character is seen (portrayed by a new actor); rather than invent a new ride for us to go on, it is content with slapping different branding on the old one. Most of the film isn’t outright offensive, just horribly dull, and if your standards are somewhere around “anything will do as long as the kids sit still for a few hours”, this is your movie. The trouble with holding onto the past is that, even if you do it well most of the time, the slightest misstep can capsize you. In a time when the Paddington movies have claimed the Mary Poppins magic for themselves, this is a relic already.

The ultimate question concerning this sequel, directed possibly under duress by Chicago helmsman Rob Marshall and written by David Magee (Finding Neverland, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day), is why? Why, if it is neither going to take the property anywhere new nor effectively pay homage to the original, does it need to exist? The obvious answer is money, which it is sure to have thrown at it in oceans. If you want a movie that’s worth the increasingly asinine price for a ticket, though, this, as Mary would say, will not do. No, it will not do at all.

Verdict: Not Recommended (1 and 1/2 out of 4 Stars)

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

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All images are property of the people what own the movie.

[mensbodybuildingtips]

5 Hours A Week For The ULTIMATE Physique!

Most of the time, when the public looks at a "muscular tissue male" walking through the supermarket or anywhere else, the comments are generally one of two. The very first one will certainly be "Steroids!", an ignorant reference to the possibility the lifter might delight in hormone use to facilitate better gains in regards to size as well as stamina. The 2nd will be "I bet he functions out 5 hours a day to look like that!"

Most of us do not have time for that sort of training volume. As well as while there are some jobless bodybuilders that reside in their van in the fitness center car park, many of the well-muscled individuals you see don't spend that a lot more compared to an hour in the gym, 5 times a week. They don't hit the gym in the morning as well as night, they do not spend 8 hours a day in the health club on weekends. For the most part, any individual that has the discipline as well as job values to prosper in the iron game will additionally have their chips together in all of the various other elements of their life. They'll handle to discover secure as well as effective individual connections. They'll attain an education and also ability set which permits them to function a stable, well-paying job. In other words, they have their stuff together in all locations of their life.

You CANISTER make good gains in the health club while only training a hr each day. You TIN optimize your body building size and stamina potential while just striking the fitness center for 60 mins every day. You have to treat every minute in the gym just as priceless as you can. Let's examine a couple of concepts that you can relate to your training making your hr in the gym equally as effective as could be.

Warm up fast First off, you can no longer pay for to spend 10 minutes on the treadmill, viewing TV as well as taking your time. Park a little additional out in the car park whole lot than you're used to, and also make it a vigorous stroll to the door. The cozy up is absolutely nothing greater than a fast process to get your blood moving as well as mind all set. If you can shave that time off your gym day, you'll have even more time to devote to the moving of the heavy metal! Your body does not recognize if your 3 mins of strolling remain in car park or treadmill, so utilize your time in the most efficient means possible!

Plan ahead Instinctive training looks excellent theoretically. "I'm going to go to the fitness center and just train with whatever works out FEEL right". However, in real life, that normally indicates the lifter is bouncing around the location, looking for open stations, attempting what feels great, and so on. If you only have one hr to target breast, for instance, after that you should have a great idea what 5 workouts you could utilize to accomplish optimum breast destruction in a minimal amount of time. Detail your workout activities (along with options, should your main option be inhabited with some kid creating love letters on his cell phone) and train like you're on a goal - because you are!

Super-sets Stacking up several movements per muscle mass team is a terrific way to shave time off your complete amount of mins spent in the health club, while at the very same time ensuring you are pin down enough establishes to provide acceptable development to the targeted muscular tissue team. Pick your favored 4 dumbbell-based shoulder movements, and also complete them one after another. You'll invest an overall of 2 mins raising, and knock senseless 4 sets. Rest 2 mins, and repeat! You'll have twenty collections for shoulders done faster compared to you can visualize! That'll open up time for traps, abdominal muscles, and some fast cardio in under an hour!

Pre-exhaust Another means to cut time is to combine a seclusion motion with a compound lift. Leg expansions adhered to with squats, for instance, offer your front thighs an extremely quick pump and also muscular tissue fiber promoting circumstance in under 90 secs. Repeat for 4 collections and you're halfway performed with your front thigh workout! Make use of an isolation motion adhered to by a hefty lift to begin your exercise which muscle mass team will certainly be burnt before you know it.

Keep the disturbances to a minimum Everyone knows how destructive conversations in the gym can be to your training. Certain, sociability behaves, but at what cost? You are attempting to educate extremely effectively, so putting in headphones is a smart idea - the majority of the time. However, several lifters do not think of what does it cost? time they really invest fidgeting with their clever phone. They'll justify its usage with "I just have to hear songs while I educate" and also it'll promptly thwart their exercise before they know it. Checking messages, refreshing email, tweeting, reading walls in between sets, Every one of the moment that people used to use for extending, consuming alcohol water, psychologically preparing for the following collection, as well as scoping out tools to plan out the remainder of the workout, has actually flown gone! Removal your phone settings to "Do not interrupt" and keep your mind on the task at hand - muscle team destruction in under 60 minutes!

Stick with compounds A compound workout is an activity which employs making use of greater than one muscle mass group in order for you to complete the workout. Additionally, an isolation exercise is one that needs the lifter to only utilize ONE muscle team. Let's look at leg training. You need to strike the glutes (butt), quads (from upper leg), hamstrings (back upper leg) as well as calf bones (lower legs) as component of your leg workout. The squat hits all of these muscular tissues. On the various other hand, the seclusion motions (which look so alluring because of the welcoming machines) will certainly target each of these individually. That takes a lot even more time. Keep the mass of your exercise on those heavy compound movements. Bench press, deadlifts, rows, crouches, army press, swirls, and also close-grip bench press are instances of motions that will certainly bring several muscle teams right into play. Just after you have torched the muscular tissue group could you invest a few minutes with isolation movements to wrap points up!

[swearronchanel]

Finally got around to 7.02

Back at it again with more of my commentaries that no one asked for, I just have a lot to say watching Call The Midwife ok!

Better late tha never, let’s get this started

Skipping the credits bc I’m impatient

Val serving a look! even tho it’s all blue

Shelagh’s perfect 60s kitchen is a dream 😍 looks just like the blue of the Petries’ in the Dick Van Dyke Show

Shelagh Turner is so adorable

New hairstyle for Val coming soon?

Trixie looking like a BABE

Her extensions on point! I’m jealous

“Mine looks terribly realistic” LMAO I LOVE WINNIE

Love the 60s salon decor lol

Poor Sister Winnifred needs a car😂

Ugh choke on that whistle Woolfe

“Iced buns” Run away boobs, look out 😂

GTFO! “Looking like she just got off the boat” BITCHHH!!!

People still love to tell me to straighten my hair and that’s my natural hair is too frizzy and messy, fuck you. *”beyonce!?” video voice* Lucille sweetie I’m sorry an ugly b*tch would even say that

This shit already pissing me off ugh, I know I’m white passing and it gives me privilege but my dad and lot of my family doesn’t and I get upsetttt thinking that they prob hear shit like this or have before(as SO many people do),, like I will throw hands

That goes for anyone tbh, 0 tolerance for racism. It angers me everyday

Val’s still in rollos loll, ugh I wanna get my hair done soon

am I immature or are Sister W’s sock puppets are funny as hell?😂😂

I love Sister Winnie tho she deserves more

Yass gal being your man he needs to be involved

Aww baby

BEATRIX !!! 😍 THIS IS A L O O K

I LOVE IT SM

ALSO Christopher is still a babe and he has a new car?? Sugar daddyyy 🤑

“My parents tried their best but domestic science wasn’t really on the syllabus at casa mia” LMFAO I AM TRIXIE

if only I was that gorgeous and fabulous

I love Val & Trixie’s banter 😂😘

“Not so long ago I thought I’d never be happy again and yet here I am. The human heart is really most resilient.” Oh Trixie I need to hear that.

Yes Lucille knock some sense into them

Sister Monica Joan, an 80-odd nun in the 60s is legit more open minded than an entire population in this country *cough cough Tr*mp & his disgusting supporters*

WHO PICKED THIS UGLY OUTFIT FOR SHELAGH? I NEED TO SPEAK TO YOU

“She grew up in a communist country I doubt that’s conducive to a cheerful disposition.” LMAO

Lol my baby cousin is named Magdalena

“Her type” YOU MEAN A HUMAN. SHE’S A HUMAN. FROM THE CARIBBEAN.

THANK YOU VAL FOR THE DEFENSE IMA FLIP

O m f g I WANT TO FIGHTTTTT THIS MOTHER

Oh shit a stroke!!??

Lucille grabbing Val’s hand 😭

Sister MJ’s eyes😭😭

I forget you could smoke even in hospitals and planes back then

How is Teddy this big already? 

SHELAGH’S FACE LMAOO intimidated by Magda

She’s a Catfish but for the better

Trixie again 😍 love that dress too!

I want her hair ugh

LMAO BURNT ASS GRAEPFRUIT 

Yass Magda you’ve been living your best life, I need to get like you

“Everyone knows English coffee is very bad” LMAOO I LOVE HER ALREADY??

but also we know the best coffee is from the Caribbean & Columbia

“Better than what I’m used too” LMAO PATRICK YOU GONNA GET IT BOY

Shelagh’s faces I’m so ded

Time to step up your wardrobe tho Shelagh, Magda can’t upstage you in your own home

“Life really can change in the blink of an eye.” You’re telling me Phyllis

WINNIE LMAO putting her hand to her heart is me at every little thing

What happened to the cute nightgowns you owned Shelagh? cancel the moo moos

“You might want to put on a cardigan. You’re not on the continent now.” LMAO WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

like shoulders aren’t scandalous tf 😂 or is it bc it’s chilly? Either way Shelagh is so pressed, I die😂 

don’t worry bby she don’t want your man lmao, no need to be worried

Damn calling her an invalid right in front of her Dr T? kinda fucked up

aw this poor husband 😭

guess who still hates Mrs Stanton? yo

she’s pregnant and dropped a pound and I go to the gym and cannot? what the hell

The bonchinche (gossip) at the salon is so realistic lol, it’s usually the hairdressers spilling the tea here when you go to people you know😂👏🏼

Shelagh in another dowdy outfit why!?

The costume designers doing Laura Main so dirty this series, she deserves better

I know she is not Trixie or Val but she can wear cute outfits too!

Like the grey dress from 6.2! The Jackie Kennedy-esque suit! She had some looks and now she’s in these dull avena colors

Don’t @ me bc of this either^ I appreciate fashion and just looking nice, let me rock and complain 

“Filthy hands” Mrs Stanton boutta MEET MY TWO FISTS REAL SOON OMFG

“Proper English nurse”IM FUMINGGGGG

IDGAF she’s upset and wants to blame YOU DON’T GET TO JUSTIFY BEING RACIST

the black woman waiting just gave Lucille the most sad but understanding look my fucking heart

“It’s not up to you or Nurse Crane to decide how much unpleasantness I can bear.” FUCK YES LUCILLE BABE STICK UP FOR YOURSELF !!! TAKE NO SHIT

I L O V E H E R

Is their last name Romaine like the lettuce?

The track suit tho lolll

“The fears we have in the present often lie in the experiences of the past”😭yes

Can we call her Lucy? I love her

I feel you Val bb! I’m embarrassed that my country put literal evil garbage in the White House!!

Aw Val sorry bb

“I’ve had patients who won’t let me touch them bc they thought the blackness would rub off on their skin” set in 1963 and there’s still fucking disgusting people who act like this in 2018

🙌🏻👏🏼 LUCILLE ANDERSON

I’m glad ofc but ugh I hate when they resolve major/serious problems so quickly tbh

Omg I remember my hair was too short for braids so my mom would make me get “twisties” GOD THE PAIN I CAN STILL FEEL IT! AND THE RUBBER BANDS BREAKING AGAINST YOUR HEAD AHHH

Teddy omg the cutest

LMAO okay Tim, chill

A ROBERTS RADIO UGH I WANT ONEEE

Lmaoo Tim is tragic😂 he doesn’t get out much

Angela aw! An angel!

Magda serving a look aye

Where’s Shelagh to sing the toothbrush song?

The husband reminds me of a “who from whoville” loll

Occupational therapy clinic! Mika !! @nurse-franklin

Coq au vin? Chef Magda

“If you like that sort of thing” LMAO SALTYY AF

“Do I detect a tone?” LMAO OBVIOUSLY PATRICK, REASSURE YOUR WIFE SHE’S PRESSED

I’m laughing but really it’s not funny enough to drag it out lol, I hope Shelagh get’s over it quick

Lmaoo Shelagh a dress with her shoulders out and knees showing is not half dressed, calamate

Lol love her still

I do love her facial expressions too

But fr can she not wear all brown & whoever gave her the M’Lynn from Steel Magonlias hair? It gotta go

SISTER MJ AND LUCILLE MI CORAZÓN

“I could read to you”😭😭

Wait they play basketball?

Violet Buckle is under-appreciated and the Buckle family is too

Aw I’m proud of Marjorie’s husband

obvs hand in front of stomach placement ha

LMAO WINNIE STEALING THE CAR WHAT A THUG! GTA OUT HERE 😂

LMAO THIS DAD AW HE’S COACHING

PHYLLIS IN HER SKIRT BLESS, SHE’S GONNA BE PISSED THO LOLLL

He’s about to throw up I’m ded

Phyllis brought to tears about her, I feel 😂😭

Except my Bitch ass doesn’t have a car or license yet

“Wedding”😭

CAUGHT Lmaoo sorry Sis

“The longest paths lead into sunlight, when they are paved with love”😭😭

THESE DARLINGS BROUGHT FOOD I LOVEEE

Omfg do I see rellenos de papa?👀👀 

That food looks so good ugh I wish I had some home cooked food rn

Ahh man that’s it?

Till next week😭..

[immcrtuos-a]

G I A N T . C H A R A C T E R . S U R V E Y

[ tagged by ]: @eloquated [ tagging ]: @eyerevived @dcmonblooded @remembcr and everyone else who wants to

G E N E R A L

[ name ]: Raphael Ortiz Santiago [ nicknames ]: Rafa (only by certain people he’s close to) [ birthday ]: June 19 [ birthplace ]: Zacatecas, Mexico [ age ]: 84 (looks like 19) [ eye color ]: Dark brown, almost black [ height ]: 1.75m / 5′7 feet [ weight ]: Fairly muscled [ nationality ]: Mexican [ astrological sign ]: Gemini [ location ]: Hotel Dumort [ siblings ]: four brothers and one sister, all deceased [ pets ]: None [ in the morning i’m ]: Sleeping [ all i need is ]: the Clan [ love is ]: Apparently, a good thing [ i’m afraid of ]: Loved ones dying [ i dream about ]: Not much, unless nightmares are counted too

H A V E . Y O U . E V E R ?

[ pictured your crush naked? ]: No? [ used someone? ]: Yes [ been used? ]: Yes [ been cheated on? ]: No [ considered cheating? ]: No [ been kissed? ]: Yes [ done something you regret? ]: Of course

F A V O R I T E

[ food? ]: Can’t eat anything anymore, so does it matter? [ fruit? ]: It used to be cherries [ candy? ]: I don’t have one [ color? ]: Red  [ number? ]: 3 [ animal? ]: Cats [ drink? ]: Blood, obviously [ soda? ]: I preferred coca cola [ book? ]: Macbeth or Julius Caesar [ room? ]: Bedroom [ movie? ]: I don’t have a favorite

D O . Y O U ?

[ have a boyfriend/girlfriend? ]: No [ like cleaning? ]: No [ have a tattoo? ]: No, though I admit they can be nice [ have any piercings? ]: No [ cheat on tests/homework? ]: I don’t remember, probably not [ drink/smoke? ]: Sometimes, with Magnus or Lily [ swear a lot? ]: Probably more than I should [ like watching sunrises or sunset? ]: I wish I could [ pray? ]: Of course  [ go to church? ]: Not anymore, although I used to go every week [ have secrets? ]: Naturally [ have a best friend? ]: Lily and Eliot (and Jack @eyerevived ) [ like your own handwriting? ]: Sure

A R E . Y O U ?

[ obsessive? ]: About certain subjects, I suppose [ excited? ]: Not particularly [ bored? ]: At the moment, yes [ happy? ]: Not really [ missing someone? ]: Yes [ confused? ]: No [ tired? ]: No [ mad? ]: At certain people, yes [ sleepy? ]: No

D O . Y O U . E V E R ?

[ wait around just to talk to someone? ]: Sure [ write about those ‘special’ moments? ]: No, I don’t need a diary to remember [ wish you were a member of the opposite sex? ]: No

W H O . W A S . T H E . L A S T . P E R S O N . W H O ?

[ you talked to? ]: Lily and Eliot [ you hugged? ]: Magnus [ you kissed? ]: That’s unimportant [ sent you a letter? ]: The Los Angeles clan leader [ you sent a letter to? ]: The Los Angeles clan leader, in return [ you laughed with? ]: Eliot [ slept in your bed? ]: Myself [ you shared a drink with? ]: Lily or Eliot   [ you went to the movies with? ]: A group of the Clan, a few years ago [ yelled at you? ]: Camille [ you called? ]: Magnus [ you kicked? ]: A Shadowhunter [ you saw? ]: Lily

W H O . I S ?

[ the most handsome person you know? ]: Objectively, probably Magnus? Although, Isabelle Lightwood is also beautiful. [ the weirdest person you know? ]: Simon Lewis, without a doubt the most confusing person I currently know [ the funniest person you know? ]: Eliot [ the loudest person you know? ]: Loud in volume is Lily, loud in character is Magnus   [ the quietest person you know? ]: Aurélie, a clan member [ the sweetest person you know? ]: Johannes, another clan member [ the most serious person you know? ]: Every person from the Clave  [ your best friend? ]: Well, that used to be Ragnor [ the person you hate the most? ]: Valentine Morgenstern [ the person you see most? ]: Lily and Eliot [ your soul-mate? ]: Soul-mates don’t exist.  

W H A T . I S ?

[ the first thing you thought of when you woke up? ]: Everything that needed to be done tonight [ the song that best describes you? ]: I don’t know [ your best feature? ]: Physical or in general? [ your most treasured memory? ]: Any of the ones with my hermanos

I N . T H E . F U T U R E

[ what is the age you hope to get married? ]: I’m not going to be married [ number and names of kids? ]: I won’t have any  [ where do you see yourself at age twenty? ]: I’ve surpassed twenty by a few decennia now  [ describe your dream wedding? ]: I already said I won’t have one, so it doesn’t matter [ when and how do you want to die? ]: Preferably a long time from now and quickly [ what are your career plans? ]: Keep leading the clan [ some place you’d like to visit? ]: I would like to go back to Zacatecas.

L A S T . T I M E

[ last time you went out of state? ]: Clan business a few months ago [ last time you were outside? ]: Yesterday night [ last time you had a snowball fight? ]: Years ago [ last time you were listening to music? ]: A while ago

O T H E R

[ how many people would you say are good friends of yours? ]: Three [ what hurts the most, physical or emotional pain? ]: Emotional. [ have you felt this recently? ]: Yes [ what do you wear to bed? ]: Sweatpants and a t-shirt [ when’s the last time you slept with a stuffed animal? ]: As a child [ have you ever used a ouija board? ]: No [ how many rings before you pick up the phone? ]: As soon as I can find it