#I swear I am GOING to finish this project I’m insanely excited about it

[the-squeege]

I’m cooking something big, posting this here to hold myself accountable to actually finishing it 👍

[betweentheracks]

On a scale of 1-5000, how annoyed do you get when people have the gall to tell you, “Wow! You’re so lucky!” when they find out that you work in entertainment and with celebrities?

Also on a scale of 1-5000, how unimpressed are you with the celebrities you end up working with?

Please share some horror stories so we can commiserate over nightmare clients! 😂

Yeef and also yikes, do I actually want to dive into this particular can of worms? Lmao. 

I thoroughly see spots of red in my vision whenever people try to do the whole “Wow, that’s really cool and lucky for you! How many famous people have you met or worked with? Your life must be so glamorous and exciting!!” Like please, spare me. It isn’t glitz and glitter all the time - in fact, the fun parts are in the minority of how working in this industry goes. Beyond that, I’m not ‘lucky,’ I worked my ass off to pull this off and have never slowed my pace (until this COVID-19 chaos) to ensure my post remains relevant. In accordance to your ranking, I guess I would go with 4999 points annoyed.

Frankly, my rating and impressions of my clients are like a river that flows on and on and yet there is no apparent water to be found. I have a good rapport with most of the ones I am contracted with exclusively, but they're prone to make my feelings change from sentence to the next. Celebrities will forever remain exhaustively effervescent. 

If you really want some dish, I can offer up some from a client I once worked with in my apprenticeship and how much I hate the time I had to spend with her while also retaining a sense of gratitude for helping shape me into someone that can withstand some of the prickly goings-on of the industry. She wasn’t even my client, as I was merely apprenticing and therefore was little more than a ghost that shadowed one of the veterans of our company. I’m highlighting this now before diving into the thick of what was the worst week in my career thus far because it is extremely important to keep in mind that I was under no actual obligation to work with this woman. 

Ahem, so, story time! Let me start off with first making it clear that even now I will only work with actresses and actors when I have no viable means of refusal. This is simply a preference of mine and stems mostly from this woman’s behaviors and treatments of me and some of the crew I worked with at the time. I was quite young when I entered my apprenticeship, like barely more than 20, and I was simultaneously accustomed and starstruck by the world I was entering. Before the apprenticeship, I had already been working off and on via temporary contracts and commissions as a MUA at the time, so I knew the ends and outs of the place and the people that worked my end of it. However, I hadn’t worked with many clients one on one as either a MUA or as an aspiring wardrobe stylist. Due to this I was still very green and awkward and hadn’t yet figured out the line between casual and professional (to this day, for me, this line is nearly nonexistent) and I tended to make a mess whenever I opened my mouth so mostly I kept quiet and melded into my role as an observing trainee with occasionally useful ideas but was mostly just an extra pair of hands. The stylist I was shadowing was, in a word, cumbersome. They weren’t a very great teacher and had a tendency to drop projects into my lap without much proper instruction or insight and would leave me to attempt making sense of what was wanted by means of vision boards and client portfolios. In much a similar fashion, when a scheduling conflict came up involving the actress which will star in this tale and another more major artist; naturally, he had to see to the client he had a more tangible contract with and stuck me with wrangling our golden girl. 

Within the first 4 sentences of our first exchange as stylist and client I hated her immensely. She was the type of client I abhor to work with; overbearing and demanding, thankless and impatient. She was in the midst of her career finally catching some interest which is the most pivotal time in any celebrity’s career and I like to think she was so bitchy and just plain mean due to the stress and pressure she was under but it doesn’t make what happened any more justifiable. Her immediate and first words to me were, “You’re young and clueless enough to be my baby sister. Whatever authority you think you can have in dictating what I wear ended with the sound of the door opening when you stepped in, get that straight now.” I remember this extremely clearly because I went from gobsmacked to incensed within the time it takes to pop the top on a can of soda. But! I knew at least enough to know to keep my mouth shut and temper my immediate dislike of this person and tried to push forward and steer the conversation in the direction of what her ideal style and presentation should be. It went well enough for all of an hour tops before she domed me again by calling me “baby sis” in place of my name. As I am, in fact, the baby sis of my family I am well aware of when a power play is being maneuvered in on me and spotted this for what it was: her trying to remind me that I had no right to be speaking to her, let alone designing her. This was a culmination of her being upset and put out that she wasn’t chosen by my mentoring stylist and was stuck with someone that had basically no merits behind her. 

Calling me this wasn’t really an issue for me, but it did chafe against my skin enough to make me feel uncomfortable and anxious. Still, I let it slide and she continued to call me as such for the duration of our time together. The true horror of this story is what comes next and the escalation from minor verbal insults meant to belittle me fanned into blatant sabotage. She and I had come to a sort of estranged agreement when it came to modeling her vision board - she wanted to retain some traces of her perceived sweet and demure self from when she was cast in her first role, but play up the maturity and grace she held now and have it reinvented into timeless class while holding a touch of being chic. It was a headache to make sense of since, from a the perspective of fashion and trends at that time, this wasn’t the ideal and even seemed counterintuitive to someone in her position and of her age. I went along with it and threw myself into the quest to pull from the brands she mentioned liking most and for days I learned firsthand how exhausting and tedious it is to make acquisitions and swear responsibilities/accountabilities one after the other and put my name and my company on the line. I handpicked every item and steadily managed to pull off forming my second ever ensemble of 4 sets of styles each with 2 or 3 substitution items that could alter the look entirely while still remaining within the realm of what the client had asked for. I worked upward of 13 hours for 4 days and when I finally was able to bring the client to her showroom and present my designs, I was only able to feel relieved for mere minutes before she began to yell and make a scene. She demanded my supervisor and the head of the styling department of our company both come to tend to her and see what a mockery I had made of her ideal image. She went on to use her acting quirks to insinuate that I had gone off half-cocked and overruled her every idea and word and then dared to present her with such low quality fashions. She even managed to produce a vision board that was entirely different from the one she and I had planned together! It was obviously done by herself and lacked the detailed attention any of the stylists housed in our company would have added, but it was convincing enough to appear damning. 

At this point my head was in a weird place, trying to make sense of the perilous world I was throwing myself into and the fact that this was actually happening to me at all and wasn’t just me daydreaming while watching daytime dramas. After I worked through that initial shock, I was more than mad but less than enraged. I was confused as to why this client was being so purposefully obstinate and difficult for me, even briefly wondered what sort of grievance I could have possibly cost her when I had only just met her and had done my utmost to seem cool and pro like all the seasoned stylists I had worked with. I thought I was going to lose my job and have to go back to my family with my tail between my legs and tell them they were right and I never should have strayed from my original course and career path. I only became aware that I was crying, like big fat tears that made a mess of my face and were embarrassing to the point that I wanted to flee, because my supervisor had given me his handkerchief. It was at this point that I teetered and looked deeply at the person accusing me and wasting my time and efforts and realized that it wasn’t about me and was only ever about her. This moment of clarity, though, was like the opening of a gate I had been clinging to all week in hopes of keeping all my spurned senses quietly simmering beneath my skin rather than wreck my name and finish off my chances before they truly begun. I very rudely told my supervisor and the department head that if they needed proof of my hardwork and dedication to the vision of a thoughtless actress caught in the weeds of her own wilting fame then they were free to examine my copy of the original vision board and compare it with the one she had; that they could check through the 15 or so LORs under my name and in her stead (both names are featured for security means). Anyway, she was attempting to spill a stain across our company and specifically the stylist in charge of me for blowing her off. Her idea was that if I failed in a big way it would make him look like a horrible mentor and cost him some of his reputation. I was merely cannon fodder.

This got insanely long - let’s put it up to me also being a storyteller and writer as well as very passionate about this encounter. It sparked the timid embers of my uncertain pursuit of my career into a fire that has since gotten me through many other rounds of hard hitting clients and their excessive personalities and entitled arrogance. I love my job a lot, but man is this industry full of bullies.  

[musical-traysh]

Sevro’s Best Man Speech

So my S/O and I collabed on this for a communications project I had for a wedding toast. I originally had Sevro being rather Horny on Main for Darrow and 10 times the swears but here y’all go.

Spoilers ahead! And a bit of wishing Darrow and Virginia has matching last names.

Dear Howlers and others, I am excited to be the one to be giving this speech for my Howler One, Darrow of Lykos. From the day I first started stalking him I always dreamed we’d be friends. He was probably the nicest of the people in his group, although that’s a pretty low bar. He helped me really work with my pack, the Howlers.

Anyways, our man Darrow was the best man on the playing field in our trials. Played people like pawns in chess, dominated the field. He also didn’t take much issue when I came around with a stinking wolf carcass on my back, so I’ll give him some props for that. A lot of the Golds were total pixies about that sort of thing, but Darrow took it in stride.

And, of course, who could forget the fact that Darrow was the sort of man who would end up courting one of the people who most opposed him? Not me, obviously and unfortunately, on both counts, but the woman he’s standing here with now. Three cheers not only for Darrow, who has refused all of my marriage proposals, even the one I’m half-tempted to make right now, but for his lovely wife as well, Virginia au Augustus. I know, how unfortunate she’s gotta settle for only the conqueror of Mars, liberator of slaves, the Reaper, the man who defeated The Jackal, and convinced me that cyanide teeth capsules were a bad idea… in retrospect, I maybe should’ve figured that one out on my own, but I was sloshed at the time! Or I’m sloshed right now; honestly, I can never really tell.

Moving on from that, I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of this man, Darrow. I mean, it takes a true, divine legend to be so charming that you can squirm your way into a marriage with a woman who was flat-out trying to kill you a while ago! I mean, Victra’s never tried to kill me, mainly due to lack of opportunity, but I’m undeniably impressed.

That’s not to mention the fact Darrow went on a right proper quest to get to this point. He’s my good friend, and he was born a commoner! A lowly red miner boy, cut and carved into a mighty Reaper bashing heads and carving tongues like the rest of us. We’re more than friends in my eyes seeing as my mother was a Red. It’s incredible what men with Red blood can do, when we stand together against the tide and hold hands.

We didn’t hold hands. But, in retrospect, I wish we had! Ah, but that is a time long past now. Now, Darrow’s getting married.

Look, I’ve gotta say, it’s been real. Ever since I was known as a “Goblin” back before I got the Howlers, Darrow was my friend. He’s a good fellow, that Darrow of Lykos, suppose it’s soon to be au Augustus; ah, names. They’re awfully meaningless.

I myself have gotta say he’s one of the most incredible people in the colonies. Darrow of Lykos, Darrow au Andromedus, the Reaper, whatever name you know him by, you know one of his names. He’s a commanding force, that Darrow, a man so powerful and intelligent that he once won a lie-detector test against the Sovereign with a giant bug monster crawling along his arm. I mean, I have… okay, I’ve actually won one of those too, but he did it first which makes it more important.

Seriously, the courage of the man. I mean, who else would pull something so insanely gutsy as allying with one team, leaving a bunch of people in wolf pelts in their castle, and waiting for them to party themselves. I tell you, Darrow’s the best tactician this side of Odysseus himself, and ten times the looker.

I kid, I kid. Not like I really want Darrow in my chambers. After all, the man smells like an ox and he’s twice as hard to control. Honestly, I think the one we should be applauding here is probably his good wife Mustang, as she’s willingly chosen to reign Darrow every last day of her life. Not a choice I’d make.

Darrow is not the sort of man who’s easy to reign in.You can ask his mother at base camp for stories about little reap running around the mines. Just make sure to take your shoes off and eat whatever she offers.

Darrow’s the sort of man who’ll play you like a fiddle and then buy you an actual fiddle to make up for it. I’d say just ask Tactus, but Tactus is very dead. He can be a little odd, for sure, but I won’t pretend I didn’t understand Darrow from the moment I met the sorry pup. He was a different man, then. I suppose we all are. Ah, but the passage of time isn’t kind to us! We’ve only got so long to live, and we’d better make the most of it.

Darrow’s living his best life, getting himself a wife and everything. It’s very impressive. I can’t… well, I can’t lie, I’m proud of him, and I’m happy for him, and I’m never gonna stop being happy for him. He’s an incredible man, that Darrow of Lykos, and he’s the best friend I ever had.

Now this was fun and all, but all this ale won’t finish itself! To Darrow and his new life as Mustang’s Bitch!

[theastrophilearchitect]

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Writing journey #4.

15/05/2021 07.22 My break has officially been over for five days, and i have done some writing, but it’s been incredibly inconsistent, so I decided to start this blog post over. Bay Tree has been archived, and though FSB isn’t done, I’ve realised I need to take a step back. It’s why writers leave weeks at a time between drafts--so when they return, they’re in a different mindset, and can improve their work.

For this same reason, I need to take a step back before I finish my outline. My thought process is becoming monotonous, which means I’m losing my excitement. When you start a project, you have the idea in your head as perfect, and when those ‘vibes’ become tangible, it is less exciting. That’s unavoidable. But I just need to take a step back, so when I return, I have fresh ideas, and the plot becomes more exciting to me.

So today, I’m going to start brainstorming a new idea I had, which I don’t have an alias for yet, and I have an idea to essentially bind every project I have together, but not in Grishaverse- or Shadowhunters-style where you need to read ten books just to read the one you want. Just a nod to anyone who does read multiple, like when Aelin falls through worlds and sees Rhys and Feyre for a split second.

So. Let’s brainstorm.

My plan, I think, is to alternate weekly. This week, I’ll work on the new one, next week I’ll do FSB. I could just take this new idea and apply it to FSB, except I just don’t see how that would work. I have different worlds in mind, and this new one is a fantasy where FSB is sci-fi(/fantasy. It’s kinda both).

16/05/2021 07.07 I really wish I was a pantser. Even though I haven’t got to the editing stage, my favourite part of writing is implementing new ideas and making changes, but I’m just not a pantser. I need to know where each part is going. Instead, I have to sit here, brainstorming, for days, to figure everything out.

18/05/2021 07.06 I did a lot of work on the 16th, but I was busy yesterday, and didn’t get any writing done, because, when I was free, I was just reading. So, I’ve decided I’m going to at least write before I leave the house, which gives me about 45 minutes this morning. 

23/05/2021 18.30 Based on the fact it has been five days, I think you can tell how good I’ve been about keeping writing. The problem is that I don’t actually have much past a concept for my new project, so I’m trying to figure out how, precisely, I could merge the two projects. FSB is interesting, but doesn’t have a huge amount of depth, which adding the characters from the new project would absolutely do, while the new project is lacking plot, which FSB (at least the first book I’ve planned) does. So, I’m going to start a new Scrivener project, and consider how I can merge the two concepts while implementing both plots.

Is it too much? I have only two main characters in FSB, but five in the newer one, which gives me seven main characters, divided into three groups. And do I want to write a book with so many separate storylines? I know readers (myself included) always end up favouring one storyline over another, getting annoyed when certain POVs come up. I don’t know what to do.

I could keep the new project, but implement FSB? Hold up. New Project (NP) has two protagonists who could undergo a similar development to the protagonists of FSB... I had a plan for the male protagonist of FSB, his arc, which wouldn’t work for NP’s male protagonist, but would work perfectly for its female protagonist...

Tumblr’s glitching. It wouldn’t let me reblog a post earlier, and now it won’t let me save this draft. Please, no.

Okay, so I had to copy what I’d written for today, disconnect and reconnect to the Wi-Fi, then wait for my drafts to load to paste it. Going great!

21.00 So I didn’t get a huge amount done, because I caught up doing ~evening things~, but I at least have a plan going forward, which is an accomplishment

30/05/2021 09.29 I’ve spent the last couple weeks doing everything I can to avoid writing, but i now have an insane amount of free time, so I have no excuse. I want to use this time in a productive way, and, for me, that means writing.

03/06/2021 10.31 I swear to god, I’ve had ‘writing’ on my to-do list every single day, except not doing it is probably my own fault, because it’s been so far down on the list. Also, I’m doing a buddy read, but am also unfortunately descending into a reading slump, so even reading 50 pages takes me about 90 minutes--they’re not even long pages.

I actually went back onto my old Wattpad account earlier, where I found a load of old, unfinished stuff, but none of it was as bad as I thought it would be, and the ideas weren’t bad. I just really have no idea what it is I’m writing right now, and I hate trying to figure it out.

11.30 There are so many Ss in the word ‘assassin’ this is not okay.

This is actually going so well. I have two storylines in my head, a complex cast of characters, and I’m so looking forward to plotting this.

04/06/2021 08.04 Look at me, two days in a row. Anyways, I’m thinking I ought to name these characters ASAP, because it’ll be easier to shape them to their names than it will be to find a name which fits them once they’ve been shaped.

14.41 Here’s what I’m realising: I like to pants plots, but I can’t do that while I’m actually drafting, so I think my plan is actually to bullet point everything that happens, then revise that, then start drafting, so the story is basically set in the first draft.

I’ve actually gone through a lot of stuff--I have workable plot material!

17.16 So, me being me, I’ve semi-outlined (I say semi-, it’s more like a tenth) a trilogy, meaning I have ideas for three books following this storyline, and it... makes sense. It’s the kind of story where I can follow multiple arcs, a few at a time, instead of several overarching ones, or maybe it’s just that I’m letting myself.

07/06/2021 16.44 I don’t have a damn clue what I’ve spent the day doing. I haven’t done anything in a couple days because it was the weekend and I was busy, but I’m back now. The thing is, I haven’t spent the day reading, watching, drawing, or doing anything, really--it’s escaped me. But, at the very least, I’ve relaxed, so who cares?

I’m not applying story structure to the ideas I’m having quite yet--rather, I’m just developing them to see how they bloom on their own, then I’ll fit it in; it just seems like a more natural and effective way to develop.

Yeah, no. It’s too late in the day for this. I have zero motivation.

08/06/2021 09.49 Maybe I’ll accomplish something today; who knows? Certainly not me.

I’m now applying the 3-act structure, but I’m realising I have way too many details worked out for this--switching to more acts.

22.20 Why am I doing this to myself? I wish I could say I’m not entirely sure, but it’s because I can’t sleep, because this project, and my character Lihan, are the only things I can think about, so here I am. I don’t want to be a night writer, but que sera sera (I wish I could type accents on an English keyboard).

23.22 I accomplished more in the last hour on this project than I have in the last four days.

09/06/2021 - 1,115 words 09.29 I really hope I don’t prove today that night-writing is my sweet spot--I don’t want it to be. Can the world just let me have a functional sleep schedule??

Anyways, so, as I’ve mentioned before, I use Scrivener, which enables me to sort which documents are part of the manuscript from the ones that aren’t. I’ve been working outside of the manuscript, but I think I’m going to move them into it--I have a plan I believe will be more effective for my own drafting. I think I very much need the events to be set in stone before I begin writing in actual prose, so how can I do that? Especially when I also enjoy pantsing, but not in prose?

Here’s the plan: I plot out the main events, then bullet point everything in very high detail, similar to what many people call a zero draft, in which they draft a book in short form. I’ll sort the bullet points into chapters (but not scenes, because as I discovered with Bay Tree, I find scene-blocking makes the narrative less natural), leave it alone a while, then revise, so I can have my plot more-or-less set in stone before I work on prose.

As a result, I’m going to shift my plotting into the manuscript section, because it is, essentially, an early draft, and also I want a word count as a progress metre.

13/06/2021 - 1,611 words 8.18 Alas, I have been busy the last few days, but I’m here now.

9.20 The amount of secrets and who-knows-what in this story is genuinely absurd, but I’m sure I’ll clean it up eventually.

14.01 A few days ago, I came across a post about balancing large casts, which is exactly what I have, and the first thing it mentioned was the two-trait rule, in which every character has two traits completely unique to them, to help both reader and writer differentiate. Which I’m now going to implement.

14.42 I have these two characters, and I know exactly what I want their dynamic to be, except I can’t decide who should be which part of it.

I have made my decision. It probably works better now, but it does alter their roles, so I need to fix that.

I literally swapped them round solely because I decided one was taller than the other and thought it would be more interesting if the short one was the sadist. Why do I make my own life so difficult?

14/06/2021 - 1,574 words 11.08 I didn’t make an enormous amount of progress yesterday, but I did make some, and made notes of ideas for relationship arcs last night, so I count that a victory (forced optimism--surprisingly effective). I’m currently just working through bullet-pointing book one, while making notes of events I want in the rest of the series (I’m projecting three books, and telling myself I will finish them). I’m currently fiddling with one of my storylines to see how I can mould it to FSB’s and OH MY GOODNESS I JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA must take notes, one moment pleaseeee.

Okay, so I have four bullet points for relationship arcs and an idea to adjust one of the storylines--I’d say I have six main characters, two of whom are really the protagonists, two of which are my favourites, and the other two are fun, but in need of development. They’re split into a group of four and a pair, and I’m definitely more into the storyline of the four, mostly because the four contains my two favourites, and it’s more developed than that of the pair.

I’ve been keeping a list of things to add: motivations, loose plot threads, plot points I want to include--I really need to re-organise it.

On another note, I am so glad I named the characters as early as I did. I’m debating having two of the characters swap names, but I don’t think I will, because I will absolutely mix them up, and one of them is part of the perfect ship name.

My mouse isn’t working. I changed the batteries, but it’s not working, so now I get the joy of trying to figure out if the batteries I put in are just old or if the mouse no longer works, which would suck.

Yes, I’m going to describe this. Mostly because when I changed the batteries the first time, it took a minute to stop working, and this will waste a minute. So, first set of batteries, which we’ll call set 1, don’t work. I don’t know if it’s both or just one, but if it’s one, I don’t want to throw away both. I take out set 1, I put in set 2. Set 2 works perfectly. So it’s not the mouse. Now I take out battery 2B, and replace it with 1A, so I have 1A and 2A in here. I know 2A works, but I’m not sure about 1A, but the mouse works, so 1A is fine. Let’s replace 1A with 1B.

Yep. 1B is the problem child. 1A works fine, but 1B doesn’t. Lovely. Crisis averted. It would’ve really sucked it I had to get a new mouse. And back to writing!

12.13 I’m bouncing between documents as I organise, which means my word count is actually decreasing, so I feel like I’m making significantly less progress than I am.

I just realised my two protagonists are cousins. I’ve had it in my head that one’s father was the brother of the other’s father, but somehow I didn’t realise that makes them cousins.

I’m about to delete a list because I’ve reformatted it--my word count is currently at 1,958, but is really about to drop.

AND NOW WE’RE AT 1,572. My session word count is -32. Minus thirty-two. I hate it here, but it’s fine, because we’re ~developing~.

15/06/2021 - 2,113 words 09.39 It’s not even technically summer yet, but it’s too hot, and I hate it here. All the windows are open, so everything’s cool, there’s a nice breeze, and lots of light, but the birds are so loud, and I have to keep all the doors closed because the open windows send them swaying and slamming. You know when you close a door when all the windows are open and it slams? Yep. Not into it. 

I feel like every day I try a new way to organise my plotting. I’m unsure as to whether that’s helping me or holding me back, because it forces me to review what I have, which usually sparks new ideas, but I’m not convinced I’ll ever get to the end as long as I keep doing this.

21/06/2021 13.40 I spent the latter half of last week with zero motivation, then I was busy at the weekend, but I’m here now. I’ve been trying to make myself write basically all day--I have a plan, and a list of things I’ve come up with the last few days, but I just couldn’t make myself do it. I’m not in a good mood, but maybe this will help.

I have, however, just reminded myself that I need to prepare this week’s post, because I sincerely doubt either this or my ongoing Recent reads will be ready for Friday. Actually, if I do quite a bit of writing this week, this post might be, but I’m not willing to bet on it.

And oh, crap, now I just want to write a blog post.

No. No I don’t. I started looking at the list of ideas I had, and now I’m just not feeling it. I’m pretty sure when I open my document for this project I’ll lose all motivation too, but it’s worth a shot.

There’s a specific relationship in an anime I recently watched that I want to pull apart--there’s this ship, and the author of the manga has called the two characters ‘soulmates’. There’s just this huge amount of tension between the two, and I want to re-watch the show because I love it, but also so I can take notes to figure out what was so effective about it.

13.53 I’ve been doing this for 13 minutes, but I do think I need to leave this project/outline alone for a bit, give it an opportunity to ruminate, to evolve. In truth, I may not even come back to it until I’ve re-watched the anime I was talking about so I can tear that ship to pieces.

17.33 So I just learned brainstorming is apparently significantly easier on paper. Hm. I’ve just worked out so damn much, stuff I’ve been struggling with.

18.00 I have successfully tied up so many plot threads, simply by working with pen and paper. This is revolutionary. (I know, not really, but it is for me, someone adamant about working with a keyboard and monitor)

22/06/2021 09.42 Seriously, why did I never try actually working on paper before? Something about holding a pen to paper and scribbling and drawing a mindmap--it just works. I’ve been obstinate about avoiding working on paper because I hate physically writing, yet here we are.

25/06/2021 11.09 I’m really not managing much reading at the moment--since I started reading manga, my attention span has just gone down the drain. I’m currently reading Mister Impossible by Maggie Stiefvater, and I don’t think it helped that I had to stop less than a third of the way in to do a buddy read, but I just don’t have much motivation to read it, though I do so want to. I haven’t been listening much to audiobooks lately either, because when I’d usually listen--when I’m getting dressed, waking up, going to bed etc.--I just want to listen to music, because I also recently fell down the well of k-pop, and the group whose discography I’m getting to know at the moment is BTS. Basic, but they’re the fifth group I’m doing, and they have so many songs. Which would happen after eight years, but still.

I want to read so, so badly, but I just don’t feel like reading Mister Impossible. But I do want to finish it before reading anything else. I think I’ll finish my current audiobook, then if I’m still feeling stagnated in Mister Impossible, I’ll switch to the audiobook of that, then just take a break from reading until I’m ready to actually read. 

But this post is for writing, not reading. I did write on the 23rd, but I just didn’t update this post. The 24th I was busy, but my wall is now covered in post-it notes of world-building, characters, gods, plot points, and a whole load of other stuff.

Also, I had an idea for a book title this morning--not for this one, just in general--and when I went to add it to my list, I found a title that would so suit this project. I don’t want to say it, but let’s just say this project will be called ItLotG--or not. That’s a hideous combination of letters. I promise it is actually a good title.

11.52 I’m having another crisis over these two characters. I’m thinking it would make more sense to have L’s betrayal ‘arc’ initiated before the catalyst, or rather have it be the catalyst, except the problem there is that they’re not in the city they need to be in to receive that offer.

UNLESS,,,, what if this point happens just while they’re in the capital.... I’ve got it. 

17.16 I’ve been taking notes this whole time of everything I want to happen in books 2 and 3, and I have so much now i think they’ll be so much easier to plot than this one.

The downside of working mostly on paper is that my plans on Scrivener have been refined to one document, which is now only 878 words.

Right now, there’s a glaring hole between the midpoint and the ending, but my climax is one of those where the climax itself is a very small part of a bigger event, so if I figure out what I want to happen in this big event which is essentially the whole of the third act, I should be able to fill in the rest of Act Two with the setup for that.

So I’m leaving it there for both today and this post. In the last month or so, I decided to start over and mash two projects together, which created a whole new storyline I love, and now I’m mostly done with the first outline. I want to treat outlines as more than just preparation for drafts, because I find notes so much easier to edit than actual prose, and I hate writing without a clear idea of where I’m going. 

I think I’m going to call these ‘runs’--an outline is a run through, a draft a run through, so I’m nearly done with my first run, and I’m very proud of that, so go, go write the idea you have, drink some water, take a nap if you need one, eat if you haven’t eaten in a few hours, and I’ll be back with another writing update innnnnnn probably august, honestly.

Go write that idea!

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #364

“you wanna know what zeus said to narcissus?  /  ‘you’d better watch yourself’“

Do you change your type of music regularly? Nah. I've ben all about metal and rock since middle school. Would you want to visit Tokyo, Japan, someday? It's not actually on my bucket list or anything, but I'd do it. Do you curse like a sailor? Sailors are better than I am, aha... Do you hear trains pass by where you live? No. Ever been in a race? Haha, no. Last time you’ve eaten a taco? I hate tacos. Do you like horses? Sure do! Do you like Starburst? omg YES. What is your favourite wild animal? MEERKATS!!!!!! :') Do you like hamsters? They're very cute, but I've never met a nice one. Do you eat bananas? Yeah, I like bananas, but I'm VERY picky with how ripe it is. There's like, barely a two-day span where I'm willing to eat them. What is your favourite bookstore? I don't have one. What is your favorite fast food joint? Sonic. Do you sweat easily? Ugh, you haven't the slightest idea. As a side effect of one (or two?) of my prescriptions, I have I N S A N E hyperhidrosis. I can stand outside for a millisecond in like 70 degree weather and I'm already sweating. If you could move (and SERIOUSLY think about this) where would you move? All factors considered, being entirely realistic, the mountain-y region of western NC. Why would you go there? I want to stay in NC to at least not be a massive ways away from my family, and I loooove mountains. Plus, there's a lot of cool places on the other end of the state. Do you want to travel? Yes. I want to see so much more than this boring 'ole state. What was the last vaccination you got? For Covid. Have there ever been any forest or grass fires in your area? There have been wildfires towards the beach, I believe? Any time it happened we would always get the smoke all the way where we live. Are you Italian? Not to my knowledge. Do you own an acoustic guitar? No. What is something you have given a lot of thought to lately? My physical health. When did you last swallow your beliefs to avoid an argument or confrontation? Recently. Can you roll your own cigarettes? I've never smoked, so. Are you mentally strong? I think so. I hope so. Are you physically strong? I am like, comically weak. Are you heartbroken right now? No. Do you ever get complimented on your eyes? What color are they? It's happened, but it's definitely not a regular thing or whatever. They're grayish blue. What facial feature do you like the best on a person? I'd say I'm most attracted to pretty eyes. What is the weirdest animal you’ve ever held? I helped hold a massive snake as a kid (I don't remember what it was), and I've also held a rose hair tarantula. I can't think of any truly strange animals by my opinion, really. Do you get extremely hyper when under the influence of sugar? No. Sugar seems to have zero effect on me, probably because I'm over-exposed to it thanks to soda... What about caffeine? Not at all, likely for the aforementioned reason. Have you ever tried any drugs? If so, did you regret it? Besides alcohol, no. I don't regret having drank as it was never a lot. Do you have any pregnant friends? A high school acquaintance is pregnant. I THINK she's the only one now? I swear I see a new pregnancy announcement on Facebook like every two days, and mind you I don't even have all that many "friends." That being said, I may definitely be forgetting someone. When ordering food, what do you usually get as a drink? Depending on whether they have Pepsi or Coke products, either Mountain Dew or Coke. When drawing something, do you try to be super precise or do you not care? I am so, so, SO obsessive over getting everything right, but things never come out as good as I want them to/imagine them. Have you actually read Twilight? I haven't. What about Harry Potter? Never read any of those, either. I started one in elementary school, but didn't get very far at all. Out of the two, which is better? I have like no interest in either, so. How often do you read books? It various. I go through like reading episodes, and then I don't read for months. Are you the jealous type? I'm not like, an insanely jealous person, but it's still the worst it's ever been at this point in my life. I hate it. Are you the type of person who gets jealous of people’s pasts? Nah, no reason to. Do you know anyone who faints at the sight of blood? Not blood, I think, but needles and drawing blood, yes. I know my dad's fainted at least once at the doctor, and Jason fainted when I was getting blood drawn at the ER. What colors are the eyes of your family members? Just about everyone has brown eyes but me, I think my maternal grandpa, and my brother. Are you related to anyone with red hair? Not to my knowledge. Were you a chubby baby? No, I was pretty average. What’s something that makes you incredibly nervous? Social situations with strangers especially. Asking for things. Public speaking/presenting. What’s the latest you’ve ever stayed up to finish homework/a project? God, I remember there was this one night in particular where I stayed up SO late, but I don't remember the exact time. I think I actually cried because I was so stressed and tired. How many vegetarians do you know? In my personal life, I don't believe I know any, but I could be wrong. Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? I never did, even though I was always tired. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? No. Favorite episode of Spongebob? The pizza one, probably. Or the Hash Slinging Slasher episode. What bug frightens you most? Wasps, probably. Are your parents supportive of you? Yes. <3 How often do you take the train to go places? I've never been on a train. Have you ever participated in a mock trial, or a real trial? No. Do you own a pocketknife, or any other kind of multi-tool? No. What was the last thing you took a video of? Hm... I honestly don't remember. What’s something that used to really stress you out, but doesn’t anymore? Thunderstorms. Have you ever had famous neighbors? No. Pick your three favourite vegetables. Broccoli, green beans, and uh... I'm blanking... Habitually I wanna say "corn," but I know it's not technically a veggie, but starch. Have you ever broken a movie or game disc? I think I have? What is your favourite type of cookie? Chocolate chip. Can you rap freestyle? Or at least sing raps from songs? Ha, no. Have you ever shared a house with a significant other? Yeah. Do you scream at scary parts in a horror flick? No. I might jump a bit, but not always. What do you spend most of your time doing? Watching YouTube. Do you really care what’s going on in celebrities' lives? More like the YouTubers I watch. Have you ever broken a plate/bowl? Accidentally by dropping them. When was the last time you felt like you didn’t have a care in the world? I couldn't begin to guess. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Can you do a backwards london bridges? God no, I'd bust my back. What smiley do you use the most on the computer? (: maybe. Or :') Are any of your pets “overweight”? No, but why is "overweight" in quotations as if overweight pets aren't a real and serious issue? Has anyone ever bought you a ring? Yeah. On a scale 1-10, how funny are you? I honestly don't think I'm funny at all, so I'd put myself at a 1. Pretty recently though it was very surprising and flattering to have my dad and older sister point out that I'm "hilarious" with my wry sense of humor. I don't see it, but I mean, it was surely appreciated. What’s a song that is overplayed but you still like it anyway? I barely ever listen to the radio, yet I still know "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen is played a lot, but I could never get tired of it. Are you excited for Christmas? Christmastime is my favorite time of year nowadays, mainly because of how excited my niece and nephew always are, and we spend most of Christmas Day and usually Christmas Eve with them. I love the weather, the focus on togetherness, all that. What are you thankful for? Man, a lot. I try my best to never overlook all the truly amazing things I do have, like a loving and supportive family, a home, food and safe water, Internet haha, access to medical care (regardless of the complaints I have about American healthcare)... I've got a lot of bad going on in my life, but I've also got a great amount of good things, too. What do you think would be the hardest thing for you to give up on? Internet. What’s your favorite color combination? Maaan, don't do this. I really don't know. Probably two pastels, idk. Do you have any internet friends? I have more Internet friends than I do "real life" ones. What was the last song you listened to? "Deep Six" by Marilyn Manson earlier. How are you feeling right now? My arm is really sore from my second Covid shot, and I'm also having trouble breathing thanks to the dog (apparently, I'm allergic to whatever she is). I know it sounds bad, but I cannot wait 'til she's gone (from this house, no we're of course not euthanizing her). What color is the shirt you’re wearing? Burgundy. Do you play video games? Yeah, just not as much as I used to. Have you ever been to a club and had someone slip something into your drink? I've never been to a club period, and I don't plan on it. Do you know anyone who’s done ecstasy? Not to my knowledge, anyway. Are you on birth control? Yes, but only to regulate and soothe my menstrual cycle. My cramps were insufferable prior. Does your sibling have a significant other? All but my younger sister. Like she's in contact with who she calls "contenders," haha, but she isn't officially dating anyone. She's MEGA picky with who she dates. Have you ever cried at a real wedding? Yes, because it was very triggering to my PTSD. Any idea what you want for your next birthday? That's quiiite a whiles away, so I have plenty of time to think about that. I don't know if I'll be employed by then and thus able to buy some things myself, but I'll just say I won't be (because I'm I think rationally fearful that's where I'll still be). For Christmas I plan on just asking for a new terrarium for Venus plus better materials for it (like a proper temp gauge and hygrometer, etc.), and with that taken care of, then I might be interested in asking for a hognose for my bday, but idk. I'd want to ensure (s)he starts out with a perfect terrarium, and seeing as I want a hoggie morph, that's a lot of money in one go that idk if I'd be comfortable asking. So I'unno, maybe I'll go for a tattoo again. Wow, this was a lot of rambling for something so far off, pardon me haha. Are there any gadgets of yours that need charging right now? My Nintendo DS Lite, actually. I can't find the darn charger for it, and I really need to so I can bring it to Ashley's again for the kids to play the Pokemon game I have that they love. Aubree especially is really into it, and she adores Pikachu and Eevee. :') Which awards show would you wanna go to the most (e.g Oscars, Grammys etc.)? I don't even know what most award shows are for, if I'm being honest. I'm not really interested. What colour is your keyboard? Black, but each key glows red. Have you ever been called a skank/slut because of the way you dress? No. Are you a fan of acrylic nails? Not for myself; I think they'd drive me insane. I do, however, think they look nice on others.

[redstarwriting]

Dimension Hopper

Avengers x Reader

Request: “Hi!! I was wondering if I could request an imagine about a reader from our universe going to the marvel universe?? And she's super smart and strong but like, a little younger than Peter (15). I'm still not over Endgame so can she be confused when everything is normal and the Tony thing didn't happen, and the avengers are confused about why she is so happy about tony, idk just FLUFF PLEASE😊💖“

Word Count: 1,858

Genre: Fluff, Platonic

Warnings: Endgame spoilers, swearing, run on sentences

A/N: Not gonna lie, I got carried away on this one. I might make a part two to it to show just how close the reader gets with the rest of the Avengers in this specific story, and to show that she’s a strong ass girl as well. I already have ideas for it, and I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope y’all enjoy it as well! I’m working on all the other requests I have right now, so if you sent one in I’ll get to it as soon as I can!

───────────────────────────────────

Saying you felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest was an understatement. You’d just seen Endgame, and while you loved it and honestly had an out of body experience during it, Tony died. No more Iron Man in the MCU. Needless to say, you cried your eyes out. Even though he was a fictional character, he was your role model. You, like him, were very interested in engineering and science and things like that. In fact, you understood a lot of what Tony could do, and you’re only fourteen years old. You keep the fact that you can understand all the complicated engineering things that Tony talks about a secret, of course, considering the technology to actually pull off what he can do doesn’t actually exist in this world. You were working on that though. When you weren’t doing your schoolwork or reading comics or watching Marvel movies, you were out in your garage, working to become this world’s Tony Stark.

Needless to say, as soon as your parents park, you hurry to start working on your projects. You’ve already seen Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, and the entire concept of it interested you. Different dimensions, the multiverse, it all was something that seemed to be calling out to you. So, needless to say, you were trying to find a way to travel to other dimensions, only safely. You don’t want to find out what that glitchy thing that happens in Spider-Verse actually feels like. You’re just grateful that your dad happens to own a weapons company, much like another super genius in the universe that you would like to travel to. That’s what allows you to develop and invent all the time. It’s quite convenient, actually. Nevertheless, you’re lost in your work, distracting yourself from your sadness about Tony Stark, and you don’t even realize how much time has passed. It’s a Saturday, and you saw the movie at a one o’clock showing, so you got out of it at around four o’clock, meaning you started working at around five since you went and ate dinner with your parents. Now, it is four in the morning. And you are tired. It’s not the first time you pass out at your crafting table, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Now, you’ve gotten pretty far on the designing and creating of the fancy touch technology that Tony uses in the movies, and you’ve been using it more and more. Laptops and touch screen phones are a thing of the past for you, but you haven’t shared anything you’ve discovered with the world yet. Why, you ask? You’re fourteen. Chances are no one would believe you and they’d probably just say your dad was the one who actually did it, and you’re not about to let the things you designed get credited to someone else, even if he helped create you. With the technology you’ve created though, you can do things that are way beyond thought of on this Earth. And that leads back to the task you have at hand. Dimension hopping. Although you’ve fallen asleep, diagnostics for the machine that will be used to help dimension hop are being run through over and over again. You finished the basics of it, now you just need to find the exact way it will actually work. Lucky for you, a successful way is found. You’re just sleeping when it is. Crazily enough, the program downloaded itself into your watch, and you must have moved around and hit something in your sleep, because you hopped a dimension. The only downside? You were asleep when it happened. So, imagine your shock when you wake up, and everything around you is abandoned. Your machinery and equipment are nowhere to be found. You glance down at your wrist, pulling up information on what the hell is going on from your watch that you designed. “April 28, 2019… but what happened to my lab…?” you mutter, confusion and utter devastation flooding your mind. You think for a second and realize something. What if you’re in a different dimension? You frantically begin typing, trying to figure out what’s happening. Before you can even begin to look at the search results, though, the ceiling behind you gets blasted through. You turn, seeing none other than Iron Man, Tony Stark himself, looking at you. “A kid? You’re the one who caused a surge of energy?” you hear him say, and you just stare at him. “Y-You’re-“

“Rogers, it’s just a kid. She’s not about to harm anyone. She’s not even armed with anything and she literally just woke up… no, believe me Barton, I know what falling asleep while inventing looks like. She’s got it written all over her face. And hair. Yeah, of course you can come in, I already told you she’s harmless.”

Tony steps out of his Iron Suit, looking directly at you, and you literally just stare at him with your mouth wide open. “What’s your name kid?”

“You’re real?! And alive!” you blurt out and Tony just stares at you. “Wha-” You cut Tony off by crushing him in a hug. “Woah! Okay, okay, hey,” he decides to let it happen, but he is pretty confused. Before the embrace is over, Steve Rogers, accompanied by Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton all walk through the door. Through the gigantic hole Tony had previously made in the ceiling flies Thor. You immediately pull back from Tony, and nearly start crying. “Nat’s alive too! Oh my god this is amazing!” You start freaking out, and now they’re all looking at you with a weird expression. “Okay, what’s going on?” Steve asks, approaching you. “You’re not old!”

“No, he’s old, he just looks young,” Tony says, and Steve gives him a look. You laugh, shaking your head. “No I know he’s like 101 years old, but he still looks like 25! He isn’t an old man on the outside!”

“What the hell is going on here, Stark?” Clint asks. “Yes, I am also wondering who this child is and why she is stating that we are all alive when it is obvious that we are all alive,” Thor says. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Tony tells him. “Okay, yeah I can imagine how this is weird but oh my god you guys don’t understand. I watched you guys die and now you’re here and I’m here and you’re all okay and you’re all together again and I’m just so happy you guys are amazing, Tony you’re my literal idol I want to be just like you and I’m so excited I finally get to meet you and I know I’m repeating myself and if this was typed out it would be a huge run on sentence and-”

“Wait, slow down, you watched us die?” Tony interrupts you, concern written all over his face. “Yes! And to be completely honest I have no idea how all of you are alive and I’m totally confused about it... does Thanos exist? Are you guys searching for the infinity stones? ‘Cause if not, you should totally do that before Thanos-”

“How do you know about the stones? And Thanos- who are you?” Tony asks, in obvious disbelief. “Oh, yeah! I forgot that part, my name is (Y/N), I’m fourteen years old, and I already told you I love you, but I love you. Like a lot. Like you inspired me to become an engineer... but seriously, how are you guys alive?”

“Well, we did fight Thanos in Wakanda, but he never got the chance to snap his fingers. Thor cut his head clean off with Stormbreaker and Doctor Strange used the time stone to bring Vision back and Cap and I decided to set aside our differences and start working together again. After a risk that big, it would be better for all of us to work together than be separated but that’s enough about that, you’re fourteen and you’re already an engineer?”

“Oh my god, that’s crazy! Everything I though I knew was a lie what the heck, this is insane! And you’re back together?! This is so great. I’m so happy I designed this watch so I could jump from my dimension to this dimension-”

“Your dimension to this dimension?”

“Yes, my dimension to your dimension.”

“You’re from a different dimension?”

“Yeah! Isn’t that cool! And so far, no glitches and my organs feel fine so I’d like to say this was a success, the only problem is I don’t entirely know how I got here,” you think out-loud, pulling up the hologram like technology that exists in this world already from your watch, beginning to type some things out. “So you invented that watch?” Tony asks, walking over to you to see what you were typing. “Uh-huh… it only took around two and a half months to design the watch itself and integrate the dimensional navigation software, but the technology used in it took me about six months to develop.” You can feel Tony’s eyes on you, but you just keep typing away. “How long did you say you were going to stay here?” you hear Bruce ask, and you shrug. “I didn’t say, but to be honest it looks like I’m stuck here because fun fact, this was somehow activated while I was asleep. I have no idea how to get back to my dimension, so…” you look at Tony, “Do you have a place I could stay until I figure it out?”

“Uh, yeah I do. I kind of want to talk to you about some things. I’ve noticed you don’t have an A.I. I could help you out with that, you’d be amazed at how much simpler it makes things,” Tony says, and your eyes widen. “Really?! I can have my own JARVIS?!”

“Hell yeah you can. Now with this watch, do you think that-“

“I hate to interrupt your science party, but are we just ignoring how she knows so much about us?” Natasha asks. “Oh! The dimension I’m from is hero-less. You guys exist in movies, I’ve seen every major battle you guys have had. Including one that won’t even happen because your timeline is different from the timeline that was created in my dimension,” you explain, not diverting your attention from your watch. “I have them all if you’d want to watch them. The actors look just like you guys, it’s pretty dope,” you inform and they all stare at you in disbelief. “You know, (Y/N), I think we’re gonna be good friends,” Tony tells you, and you smile. If you thought it was crazy that you discovered dimensional traveling, it’s even crazier that you just met not only your idol, but your future best friend. With the things he taught you, you went back to your dimension and released all of your tech, advancing the boring old Earth you knew. You constantly travelled between your dimension and the Avengers’ dimension, and because of Tony you always had a place to stay. You also may have brought Peter Parker to prom. Crazy how that works.

[ericsonclan]

Break Time

Summary: Minnie struggles to get through her research paper. Renata tries to help but will she be a motivation or a distraction?

Read on A03: 

Minnie fucking hated research papers. Swearing internally, she adjusted the formatting on one of her quotes. Why did stuff like formatting matter? And why were there so many rules? She could feel her mind slowly melting inside her skull, but she couldn’t stop now. This was due tomorrow, and her grade couldn’t afford to take the hit of not turning this in on time.

Renata giggled at something she’d seen on her phone, shifting in Minnie’s lap. She’d decided to sit with Minnie for “moral support” and ended up sitting on her instead, facing the opposite direction with her legs dangling on either side of the chair. Minnie did appreciate her presence. Having the weight and warmth of her girlfriend in her arms was centering and it was nice to spend some time together even if it had to be spent on homework. It was also distracting though, having her so close. The spicy smell of her perfume permeated Minnie’s nostrils and every time she giggled Minnie felt a jolt of excitement run through her.

One of Minnie’s hands drifted downwards, moving ever so subtly to cup Renata’s butt. She flinched when Renata’s hand came down to lightly smack it away.

“Ah ah ah,” Renata tutted. “You told me not to distract you and I’m a woman of my word,”

“Renaaaata,” Minnie whined, burying her head against her girlfriend’s chest. “This is taking forever. I’m never going to finish!”

“Yes you are!” Renata lightly stroked the back of Minnie’s head. “You’ve gotta believe in yourself, like I believe in you!”

“You make it sound so easy,” Minnie mumbled. “How do you write your papers so quickly?”

Renata shrugged. “Usually it just comes to me and I just spit my thoughts out on the paper all at once. Sometimes I need something to motivate myself though. Ooh!” She took Minnie’s face in her hands, waggling a brow suggestively. “How ‘bout we make a game of it? For each page of your paper you finish, I’ll remove another piece of clothing,”

“Please don’t,” a voice came from the top left bunk of their dorm room. Sophie was trying to sleep up there after turning in one of her biggest art final projects.

Minnie winced in embarrassment. “Sorry, Sophie!”

“We’ll keep it PG, I promise!” Renata called up towards the motionless lump. She turned back to face Minnie. “Alright, so no stripping. How about this? I’ll set an alarm on my phone to ring after fifteen minutes and then you’ll earn a five-minute break where we can do whatever you want… as long as it’s over the clothes stuff,”

A groan emitted from Sophie, but they both ignored it.

“Deal,” Minnie agreed, her eyes determined.

“Then get to work!” Renata dramatically pressed the button to start the timer before leaning forward to return to her phone.

Minnie gave her utmost effort to the paper. It didn’t have to be perfect, it just had to be complete. It was like Sophie kept telling her: C’s get degrees. She couldn’t let herself get burnt out on this when there was so much else to do this week. Besides, she wanted to make sure to have enough energy to actually enjoy the times that she’d spend doing fun things with friends. It felt impossible to balance a sports scholarship, her grades, her health and a social life all at once, but she’d find a way. She wasn’t giving up.

Renata’s hair scrunchie was tickling her. It was one of her girlfriend’s favorites, decorated with a bunch of those squiggly worm toys with googly eyes you could buy at any drug store. Minnie leaned towards the sensation, enjoying the way the fluffy creatures brushed against her cheek. Renata hummed appreciatively. Suddenly she planted a kiss on the back of Minnie’s neck that caused her to visibly shiver in response.

“Sorry!” Renata exclaimed, her head pulling farther away from Minnie’s. “I’m distracting you again,”

“No, it’s fine. I’m through one page already,” Well, half a page considering she was part way done with it when the timer started.

She could hear Renata clapping behind her, making an awkward thumping sound since she still held her phone within her hand. “Way to go, Minnie! How many more pages?”

“Three,”

“You can do it! Kick that paper’s ass!”

Minnie smiled appreciatively as her fingers continued to fly over the keyboard. She knew what she intended to say here, she just had to get it out.

“Ten minutes!” Renata announced excitedly.

Minnie’s heart thumped within her chest at the thought of the moment when the time limit was up. Sure it was only five minutes, but Renata had proven time and time again that she could accomplish much more than expected. If she could actually get these three pages done, then she could go to bed with enough energy to cuddle with her girlfriend for a while before sleep overtook her. That was enough of a motivator in itself to keep her on task.

The minutes dragged on in silence as Minnie continued to work, Renata being sure to keep quiet as the steady rhythm of typing continued. There was another page done. That had gone quicker than expected. Two more to go.

“Five minutes,” Renata’s voice had an excited lilt to it.

Damn, that wasn’t going to be enough time to finish. Not that she should have expected it to be, but still she’d gotten her hopes up. Never mind. She was going to get as far as she possibly could then return to the paper rejuvenated from her break and whip the rest out. As the seconds counted down, Minnie could tell that Renata was just as excited as she was. As much as she tried to stay still, Renata was bouncing just the slightest bit in anticipation, her hips moving in a way that was driving Minnie insane. Hopefully the things she was typing were still coherent. She couldn’t even tell anymore. But this paper would be finished on time and that was all that mattered.

The alarm went off on Renata’s phone with a perky ding before it was immediately shut off, the phone tossed to the side in order to give Renata the use of both hands. “Break time!” she chirped before wrapping both her arms around Minnie’s neck and beginning to pepper her face with kisses. Minnie couldn’t help but giggle as the affection was lavished on her. Both her hands travelled downwards to cup Renata’s butt like she’d been wanting to for the past hour. A giggle rumbled through Renata’s own throat as she nuzzled against Minnie’s neck, her kisses becoming slower and more intentional.

“I’m so happy, Min,” she murmured. “So happy I found you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,”

Minnie felt an embarrassed warmth glowing within her heart. Renata was always so generous with her praise. She wished she could be as vocal that easily. Instead her arms slid up under her girlfriend’s shirt, fingers playing along her spine.

“Over the clothes,” Renata whispered in her ear in a way that let Minnie know she too wished that wasn’t the case. Renata’s hands came up to play with her hair, running through the longer portion while caressing the shaved side of her scalp. Everything was lost to them in the tender warmth of each other’s embrace.

The timer rang, signaling that the break was over. Both girls groaned in annoyance. Minnie’s eyes returned to her paper. Only a page and a half to go. She could do this. Lacing her hands under Renata’s thighs, she lifted her girlfriend off of her, not heeding her indignant squeak.

“Sorry, Ren. Give me ten more minutes, OK? Fifteen tops,”

“OK,” Renata pouted, her lower lip sticking out childishly. “I’ll start getting ready for bed,”

Minnie continued to expand her paper, desperately trying to get her final thoughts out as quickly as possible. In the background she could hear Renata shuffling things around as she changed and got her toiletries together. The door opened and closed, signaling that she had gone to brush her teeth. Fuck, that reminded her. When was the last time she brushed her own teeth? Minnie ran her tongue along her top row of teeth, practically wincing at the layer of grime she felt on them. Tomorrow morning.

She was down to the last two paragraphs. Minnie could feel her head heating up as she strove to concentrate all her efforts into finishing. One paragraph left. Three sentences. Two. One. The paper was finished! Minnie opened up a browser, entering her password for Turnitin.com and submitting the paper. It was done. She was free! And at only… 1:38 AM. Minnie let out a long groan, a mixture of relief and despair. She had practice at 6 AM tomorrow.

“Yay, you finished!” Excited clapping could be heard behind her. Minnie turned to see her girlfriend in her Ericson University t-shirt and Spongebob shorts, all ready for bed.

“Yeah,” Minnie offered a weak smile. “I did,”

“Bedtime!” Renata immediately hit the light, climbing the rungs of the ladder to be the first into bed. Minnie tiredly maneuvered out of her bra, dumping it on the floor. She was already in a t-shirt and sweats. That was comfy enough for bed. Climbing up beside her girlfriend to join her, Minnie lay down next to Renata, her legs stretching to the very end of the bed. Renata contentedly wrapped herself around Minnie’s torso, arms and legs squeezing tightly as if she was some sort of koala and Minnie the branch she clung to. Minnie chuckled. She reached out into the darkness, fingers playing with Renata’s hair. Of course she’d forgotten to take out her bun. Minnie deftly untangled the scrunchie from her hair, tossing it toward the floor of their room.

Renata was so warm against her, so snuggly. Minnie had hoped to stay up a bit longer to enjoy the cuddling, but she could tell it wouldn’t be long till she was asleep. A soft whistling emanated from Renata, signaling she had beat Minnie to the punch and already fallen asleep. She always had to be first. Pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead, Minnie let her eyes close, her exhaustion seeping deep into her bones. She thought back to her late nights last year, back when she was strung out and anxious as she lay in the dark alone. How much things had changed. She was glad. With that final thought, Minnie’s mind drifted into intangible dreams.

[mieteve-minijoma]

Songfic Day 10: Wish You Were Here

Day 10: A song that makes you sad: Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd

Betty is having a hard time dealing with her life at the moment. She has never been this far away from her boyfriend but she knows this scholarship is his best chance at getting into a good college. It sucks that he has been able to come home the last few weekends but she knows this is just part of going to school in different town’s. 

It all wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that their anniversary was this weekend and Jughead has to stay on campus at the prep school yet again, this time to finish an important project with his new friends, leaving a forlorn Betty to celebrate all alone.

*****

So, so you think you can tell

Heaven from hell

Blue skies from pain

Can you tell a green field

From a cold steel rail?

A smile from a veil?

Do you think you can tell?

“I really am sorry Betts, please don’t be angry with me ok? I swear I will be in Riverdale next weekend and I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I just have to get this project done and, since it’s a group effort, I can’t bail on them,” Jughead apologized, a heart broken look in his eyes as he facetimed with his girlfriend. 

It was Friday afternoon and Betty had been so excited that she’d finally get to see her boyfriend in person for the first time in nearly a month. His schedule had been insane the last few weeks and it seemed to keep him from coming back home lately. Jughead had been awarded a full writing scholarship to a prestigious prep school in the city which meant he would be gone during the week, leaving Betty to trudge through Senior Year without him

And Betty wasn’t so much angry with him, just more depressed and struggling with the way her Senior year had gone so far and not having her rock to lean on sucked. Especially when their two year anniversary was this weekend and Betty had spent the last three weeks setting up and planning the perfect surprise anniversary gift for him that he would never see. It just made her feel extremely lonely being without her other half.

Sure, she had FP and Jelly to keep her company, and Charles tried his best to keep her busy by having her assist with the search for The Farmies and her Mother but it just wasn’t the same without Jughead here. She was struggling with her feelings on her Father’s death and the aftermath of Survival Night but being Betty Cooper, she simply put on a happy face and stuffed it all down.

“It’s ok Juggie. I understand, don’t worry about me. I know how important this opportunity is to you and we can always celebrate when you come home next weekend. Honestly it’s no big deal,” Betty tried to assure him, smiling widely to cover her sorrow. 

“Betts-,” he started but was interrupted by another voice off screen. A female voice, Betty noted.

“Juggie, come on! We gotta go if we wanna catch the previews and I know how you hate to miss them!” Jughead looked at the unseen woman off-screen while Betty clenched her jaw at hearing some other female calling him her pet name. 

“Yeah Nat, I’ll be there in a minute, damn,” He looked back at Betty apologetically. “I’m sorry Betts, Natalie can be a bit impatient at times. The group wanted to go to a double feature tonight to decompress before starting the project bright and early and-,” Betty waved her hand at him and plastered that smile on her face.

“It’s fine Jug, go. Have fun with your friends and don’t worry about me,” Jughead didn’t look like he believed her but also knew she wouldn’t leave him any room to argue.

“Are you sure? I can bail and spend the night streaming a movie with you instead, I don’t have to go with the gang,” Betty internally cringed at the term, knowing that ‘the gang’ should include herself. And Archie, hell even Veronica. But it’s not the way things are anymore. The gang wasn’t going to be the same until Jughead returned, and that was only if he didn’t succeed this semester (which Betty knew he would) and get an extended scholarship. 

“I promise Jug, I’m fine. I’ll probably just relax this weekend, maybe go see V and spend the night if she can pry Archie off her lips,” Betty giggled, honestly giggled, making Jughead smile.

“Ok, as long as it’s ok with you. I love you Betty Cooper,” Jughead smiled as his beautiful girlfriend.

“I love you Jughead Jones,” She returned the smile but hers was coated in melancholy. 

*****

Did they get you to trade

Your heroes for ghosts?

Hot ashes for trees?

Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Did you exchange

A walk on part in the war

For a lead role in a cage?

“Well B, did you at least tell him about the surprise you worked so hard on for tonight?” Veronica asked, arching her brow as she sipped her mocha chocolate swirl shake.

“Of course I didn’t, V! I wasn’t going to make him feel worse then he already felt by making him feel guilty. It’s not his fault that he had a project this weekend,” Betty sighed, picking at her eggs and bacon. She had called Veronica first thing this morning for an emergency girls breakfast to talk about her failed weekend plans.

“Jesus Betty! You should have told him! You spent every dime you saved over the summer to rent out the planetarium and arrange that hipster laser show for him and he goes out to a stupid movie double feature with another girl? I mean damn B, why wouldn’t you tell him?” Veronica pressed, her eyes softening when she saw the tears gathering in her best friend’s eyes.

“Because he’s happy, V. He is finally out of the stresses that Riverdale brings and he’s writing full time like he always wanted, how can I ruin that for him? What kind of girlfriend would that make me?” Betty wiped away a stray tear that had fallen onto her cheek and continued, “Besides, he didn’t go with just a girl, he said the whole group was going,” she defended lamely, not quite believing herself in that moment.

“Of course he went with a group, B. Jughead loves you and would never step out on you, especially not on your anniversary,” Veronica squeezed her hand reassuringly and smiled. “Speaking of, what are you going to do about your one night only gift?”

“Well, I already arranged it and rented the place out for the night, so I’m just gonna go alone and enjoy the show. No use letting all that planning go to waste when I can easily set up a picnic for one and relax for the night,” Betty shrugged, taking another bite of her side of bacon.

“Do you want Archie and I to come with? Maybe I can bring Daddy’s bottle of Chateau Margaux? You haven’t lived until you’ve cracked open a quarter of a million dollar bottle of red wine,” Betty shook her head at the offer. She appreciated her friends wanting to be there for her, but if she wasn’t celebrating with Jughead she rather celebrate alone.

“Thanks but I’ll be fine, V. I swear,”

*****

“Thanks so much Mr. Simmons, I really appreciate you letting me have the placed to myself tonight,” Betty smiled as the director of the planetarium handed her the keys to lock up in the morning when she left.

“You’re quite welcome Miss Cooper, anything I can do to help young love. The cd’s are queued up in the sound system and the lasers are preprogrammed so all you should just have to hit this button here and you’ll be set,” Mr. Simmons said, handing her the remote control. He smiled again before walking out the door with a wave.

Betty let out a huff, slumping her shoulders a bit as she walked into the main area. She went to work setting up her little picnic, scolding herself for not being able to pack small amounts of food anymore since she’s been with Jug, before she hit the start button and laid back on her blanket on the floor.

The lights dimmed, the running lights on the floor being the only light in the room, then she heard the soothing sounds of Pink Floyd’s ‘Wish You Were Here’ permeate the air just as the lasers cracked to life like lightning. This is so beautiful Juggie, I wish you could see it....

Betty felt her tears slip down her temples, her sadness finally breaking her composure. She missed Jughead so damned much and this song only served to speak to her heavy heart: breaking it open layer by layer and leaving her bleeding emotions on the floor. 

She laid there, watching the lasers in her dejection, and thought about the man she loved more than life itself. She thought about all the good times they had, as well as all the bad times and wondered what the future would hold for them. 

How I wish, how I wish you were here

We're just two lost souls

Swimming in a fish bowl

Year after year

Running over the same old ground

And how we found

The same old fears

Wish you were here

As the song reached its crescendo she heard a familiar voice singing from the entryway. She looked up to see Jughead standing above her, a bouquet of stargazer lilies in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, grinning as he sang along to the music.

Betty jumped to her feet, not believing her eyes, and ran full speed into him, flinging herself into his arms as her arms and legs wrapped around him as he caught her. “Hey there Juliet, nurse off duty?” He whispered, squeezing her tighter. Betty cried against his neck, so happy that he was really here but curious to know how he found her.

“How?” She asked in a whispered gasp, clinging to him to make sure he wouldn’t disappear.

“Well, I talked to the guys last night and when I told them today was our anniversary, Natalie and her girlfriend chewed me out for not skipping out on the project. They practically shoved me on a bus this morning and told me I needed to make it up to you, and to gravel if I had to,” Betty let out a breathy laugh, feeling slightly stupid for her moment of jealousy. He nudged her head from his shoulder so he could look into her eyes, wiping the tears away.

“So, I spent the day getting your gift ready and when I went to Veronica’s to find you, she told me you were here and chewed me out again for not being here before and then gave me this,” Jughead chuckled, holding up a bottle of Chateau Margaux. If he knew how much that bottle was worth he wouldn’t even have breathed on it, let alone touched it.

“Did you really set this all up for me? How did you even remember me saying this was a dream of mine? We were like 12 when I told you and Archie about that,” Jughead looked around in awe at the lengths that Betty had gone to just to make one of his childhood dreams come true.

“Because I love you Jug, and I remember everything about you,” Betty kissed gave him a quick kiss and smiled, “Happy Anniversary Juggie.”

[killerqueenys]

just one more drink||roger taylor x reader||part one

Warning(s): alcoholism

Word count: 2,291

A/N: Hello sooo this is my first go at writing anything so any constructive criticism/notes are appreciated! I’m also really new to tumblr so I have no clue how it works but I’ll be figuring it out along the way I suppose. This is more of a preview of what the story’s gonna be about but I just decided to call it part one since I wrote like over 2k words. Sorry for any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors! If this does well, I’m thinking about writing more and maybe taking requests idkkkk. Anyways, enjoy!

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You did it for the thrill. Sure, the fame and special treatment was a nice plus (okay, a REALLY nice plus) but that’s not why you did it.

Being able to do what you loved for a living was satisfying in every way imaginable. Everything that you had dreamed of as a child became reality about a year ago. A few of your friends had started up a band and it shot up to international success shortly after you joined. The success of it all wasn’t a surprise, your music was amazing and creative (there were a few journalists who would wildly disagree which was to be expected of course). But how fast the fame and fortune hit was a little shocking.

As you sang with emotion into the microphone that hovered next to your crash, you hit out the last beat with a newfound energy. That was the end. That was the final song of the final show of your first international tour.

The lights cut as you tried to catch your breath. Standing, with adrenaline still coursing through your body, you ran up to the front of the stage to meet the three boys you had just spent seven months with on tour. The spotlight shined bright upon the four of you. With sweaty arms wrapped around one another, you took three big bows as the crowed roared. The sound of all the cheering was deafening but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Running around the stage with the boys, you threw your drumsticks into the crowd. Okay maybe you shouldn’t have done that. Those were quite expensive. But maybe it didn’t matter. All of your shows had sold out after all. You’d be able to afford new ones and pay the rent on time for the first time since you had moved in. 

“Thank you and goodnight!” your frontman shouts into the crowd.

Insisting on keeping your adrenaline up, you run backstage where there’s a raging party and loads of free alcohol. Soon, one drink turned to two which turned to four. Maybe there was a fifth? Or a sixth? You had lost count a long time ago. You were completely drunk. Stumbling through the crowd, you bumped into a man and spilled your drink, stepping back as it just narrowly missed your shoes. 

“What the fu-” you stopped as you looked up and realized who it was that had just run into you. “Woahh! You’re Freddie Mercury,” you exclaimed absentmindedly. You hadn’t meant to show your excitement so openly but that last drink you’d had was really starting to mess with your head.

“Y/N darling! You were absolutely brilliant out there!” Freddie complimented.

“Thank you so much! That’s a huge honour coming from you, Mr.Mercury!” you managed to say with a half-conscious mind. That last drink really wasn’t going to let you off easily. 

“Oh please, you don’t need to use those silly formalities just call me Freddie. Actually, I was talking to your manager just now about a possible collaboration between our bands. I absolutely love your work!” he said with adoration in his tone.

“That’d be amazing! I’m completely obsessed with Queen right now and in fact I’m freaking out a little right now because you’re Freddie Mercury and you’re right here in front of me and you’re telling me that you like our work,” you rambled on. Damn that fifth drink. “Sorry, think I’ve had one too many drinks. Anyways, I’ll be sure to talk to the boys about it. I guarantee you that they’ll be just as excited as I am.”

With that, you say your farewells and head back towards the party. Sure, you didn’t have all those groupies following you around like the guy had, but there were some cute guys around that you were sure wanted an in with the band. As you walk towards the noise, someone runs past you, knocking you backwards when they brush your shoulder. To a sober person, it would’ve been nothing but you definitely weren’t sober.

“Okay ouch that hurt…” you complained after being knocked back onto your ass. Looking up you saw your band’s bassist with two groupies in hand, no doubt heading to the dressing rooms for a bit of fun.

“Oh my god Y/N are you okay?” Lucas asked while reaching out a hand for you to grab. “You look absolutely shit-faced. Please don’t tell me you’re going back for more.”

“I’m fine...just lost my balance is all,” you slurred as you struggled to stand. “Just one more drink I swear.”

“No. No way Y/N. I’m gonna go call a cab to take you home.” Lucas scolded with annoyance in his voice. Pulling you up, he left his groupies behind and practically dragged you outside where the air was cold and unforgiving. Your teeth chattered and you shivered. It didn’t sober you up much but it definitely did make you more alert. “Y/N...you promised that this wouldn’t happen anymore.” Lucas said as he put his jacket around your shoulders. 

He didn’t sound condescending at all. Just really...concerned. And he had a reason to be. You had promised that you’d work on your drinking habits but you always found yourself back at the bar.

“I’m sorry.” you whispered so quietly that it was almost inaudible. Not knowing what else to say, the two of you sat on the curb in silence. It was unbearable. You knew that you’d promised a thousand times that you’d work on it but you also knew that you had broken that promise just as many times as you made it.

“Look...you know I love you. You’re like my little sister and that’s why i need to tell you that this has to stop. For real this time.” he said, breaking the silence.

“I promise I’ll work on it. For real this time.” you vow sincerely as the cab rounded the corner. 

“742 bluewhisp avenue please.” Lucas tells the driver as you practically collapse into the back seat. “I’m gonna head back inside. You gonna be all right?” he asked through the back window.

“Yeah. Think I’ll just go home and sleep this off,” you mumbled. “Hey and...thanks. You know, for always looking out for me?”

“‘Course. That’s what best friends are for,” he smiled sadly. “Make sure to drink some water when you get home.”

As you lay in the back seat on the way to your little apartment, you can’t help but think about how lucky you were to have such people that cared so much about your wellbeing. Thoughts of your little group that had turned into your family filled your mind as you dozed off. You didn’t want to think about where you’d be without them.

-----

The next morning you woke up to the screech of your ringing telephone from the kitchen. The all-too-familiar pain of a hangover began to take effect.

“Alright, alright I’m coming!” you yelled as you sped towards the wall, desperate to stop the awful noise.

“Hello?” you spoke into the phone while reaching up towards the cabinet for some painkillers for the pounding in your head.

“Y/N! Great you’re up!”

It was your manager.

“Yeah well now I am.” you said as you rolled your eyes, clearly annoyed that he had called you at such an early hour.

“Sorry Y/N but things are about to get a lot worse for you. We need you down at the studio in 15.”

“Are you kidding me?” you sighed, your head still pounding. “Fine. Give me 30 and I’ll be there.”

-----

You walked into the studio with dark sunglasses to block out the harsh studio lights that you knew would be a pain to deal with while you were still dealing with a killer hangover.

“Jesus Dan what’s so important that you needed us all here at bloody eight in the morning right after a big tour. Couldn’t we have pushed this back at least another da-” you paused upon rounding the corner and seeing who was sat on the couch.

Freddie Mercury, John Deacon, and Brian May were all sitting right in front of you with questioning eyes.

“Okay nevermind, I’d say that this is pretty important.” you admitted and sat in the chair next to the couch where some of your biggest inspirations sat.

“Now we’re just waiting for Rog as always,” Brian shook his head.

Although you were grateful and ecstatic to be in the presence of the musical icons that you had looked up to since the beginning of their careers, you were still confused as to why they were here in the first place. Just as you were about to ask, the phone went off. You held your head as the sound echoed until Hendrix, your guitarist, unhooked it from the wall.

“Hello?” he spoke.

“Hey it’s Roger. Taylor. Sorry but I’m gonna be a little later than I thought.”

“It’s Roger. Do one of you guys want to take it?” he asked and Freddie took the phone out of his grasp.

“Rog we’ve been waiting almost an hour already! Get your shit together and GET OVER HERE!” Freddie demanded and then slammed the phone back into place.

“Well there’s no point in waiting up for him even more. We’ll just catch him up once he gets here.” John spoke up.

“Actually that’s what I was wondering. Why exactly are you guys here? I mean--of course I’m not complaining but I’m just a little bit confused.” you questioned.

“Darling, I spoke to you about this last night! Although...you were completely drunk,” Freddie reminded you.

“Oh my god, the collaboration? But isn’t this too soon? Guys we JUST finished our tour. Last night in fact!” you spoke to your band.

“Yeah but we haven’t really worked on a big music project like this in so long, Y/N. Hell, we haven’t even worked on ANY new music. Plus, we’ll need to keep making more as soon as possible if we want to stay relevant on the charts and in the news.” Carter, your lead singer explained. 

You nodded in agreement when you realized that you would most definitely get bored at home doing nothing if you didn’t have anything to work on. It would drive you insane to go from playing your heart out on stage every night to sitting around watching the television play reruns of some cartoon.

“Okay so what’s the plan?” you asked your manager who was silently chatting with Queen’s own manager.

“Well, we were thinking about taking this a different way,” their manager started. “Instead of all working together in a big group, we were thinking that we’d break you all up into sections by your role in the band. So, Freddie would work with Carter, Brian with Hendrix, Deaky with Lucas, and once Roger gets here he’d work with Y/N. Then once you’ve all come up with something, everyone will work together on the lyrics and such. You guys could make something really unique with an approach like this.”

You had to admit that it was an interesting approach to songwriting. On one hand, the music could come out messy without a flow considering that each of you would be working in pairs away from the rest of your band members. On the other hand, everyone would be able to focus on just one thing and make it the best that it can possibly be. It was a 50/50 chance.

Suddenly, the door flew open. And there he was. Roger Taylor. Drummer of Queen. Much like you, he walked in with his signature pair of sunglasses.

“Look who finally decided to show up! And only after two hours of us waiting around!” Brian called out to Roger, sarcasm thick in his voice.

“Oh come off it, I’m here now and that’s all that matters,” Roger replied. “So, what are we doing?”

After your managers had explained (again) how your collaboration was going to work, you split off into your pairs, eager to get to playing. You had already thought of a million ideas since the moment you stepped into the studio doors.

“Alright so I just thought of a little beat while they were talking,” you told Roger as you took a seat behind your drumset. You drummed the beat with energy and passion, keeping the tempo up perfectly. “So, what do you think?”

“I hate it.”

“Excuse me?” you asked taken aback by how blunt he was being.

“You heard me. That was absolute rubbish!” he laughed mockingly.

“Well then, I’d like to see you do better.” you stood and offered your drumsticks to him. After taking the drumsticks, he played one of the most generic beats that you had ever heard.

“You’re joking right?” you chuckled just as he had done to you earlier. “That was such a basic drum beat! Heard it a million times!”

“Well it was better than whatever crap you just played!”

“Was it really? Think about it again and tell me with a serious face that it was better.” you retorted. Just as Roger was about to argue, Lucas burst through the door.

“Hey we’re all gonna head out for lunch. You guys coming?”

As the eight of you walk towards the small restaurant around the corner, you can’t help but wonder if Roger Taylor would be this way through the entire collaboration. You wanted to have a good time and make music with a band you were such a huge fan of but it seemed that Roger wasn’t a very big fan of you. Maybe what they say is true. You should never meet your heroes.

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A/N: So?? What do you think? I was really nervous to post this but I’m really glad that I did because writing this was so much fun! Again, any notes or reblogs are appreciated!

[houseofvans]

ART SCHOOL | INTERVIEW WITH JUSTINE JONES

Baltimore based artist and illustrator Justine Jones creates her vein of psychedelic fantasy horror drawings–filled with tiny black lines and an occasional pop of bright colors–which have been featured on the covers of Kobold Press and Warlock magazine. Using the hashtag #VisibleWomen to amplify the voices and portfolios of women comic artists, Justine has be able to do more illustrative work and character design. We’re excited to find out more about Justine’s artistic journey, her love of role-playing games, comics, art, her influences and much more. . .  Take the leap! 

Photography courtesy of the artist. 

Introduce yourself?    Hi, I’m Justine!  I’ve lived in Baltimore Maryland for the past decade and currently live in a small apartment downtown with my partner and my shiba inu Mo, who is a cool and grumpy guy.

How would you describe your work to someone who is just coming across it? I used to call it storybook surrealism, but now I guess it’s more like psychedelic fantasy horror?  Monsters and Wizards.  Lots of tiny black lines, sometimes with lots of bright intense colors.

How did you start from doodling and drawing to what you do now? I feel like it sort of happened organically.  When I was younger, I would do just pencil drawings, and then in my late teens, I got more into using micron pens.  I didn’t really discover color until a few years ago, so I’m a huge color noob.  I think a lot of it also came from working in comic shops for years and going to conventions.  Seeing all of these amazing artists grow, and thinking hey, I could maybe also do that! I first started with t-shirt designs because it just seemed really fun, and I used to have a really hard time selling prints.  People don’t need more prints, but they can always use clothes!  Now i’m getting more into illustrative work and character design, and I’m loving it!

Who and what were some of your early artistic influences? When I was a baby, my dad hung an Aubrey Beardsley print over my crib.  My mom thought it would make me deranged, and maybe it did, but it also made me love ink work and Art Nouveau style haha.  I was obsessed with sword and sorcery stuff and loooved cartoons like He-Man and She-ra, and later, Pirates of Darkwater. I also spent a lot of time in elementary school copying sexy comic book ladies from 90s comics, and I know that is pretty far from what I do now, but it’s honestly how I learned to draw.  I also copied a lot from children’s storybooks when I was little.  

What are some things that inspire the drawings you make? What are some of your favorite creatures and beings you like to explore in your art? Video games are a huge inspiration to me, from SNES JRPGs, to games like Dark Souls and Bloodborne.  Also folklore and mythology from around the world, and fantasy artwork from the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s.  Basically anything fantasy.  My favorite things to draw are wizards and monsters.  I love body horror, anything disgusting and beautiful at the same time.  I take a lot of inspiration from Manga, like Berserk, or anything Junji Ito.  I’ve done a lot of Illustrations for Clark Ashton Smith stories, which I find endlessly inspiring, visually.  Just like, fantasy/ sci fi/ dying earth type stuff.

When did you start collaborating with Kobold Press on creating some awesome fantasy art covers for their publications?  I remember getting the email from them when I was on the way to Necronomicon Providence in 2017.  I thiiiink they found my stuff through the visible women hashtag on twitter?  I was very excited because I owned some of their adventures from back in the day when I played Pathfinder!!  Plus, I have always always wanted to draw things for table top RPGs, so it’s been really cool to actually do it! The Warlock mag that I’ve been doing covers for is awesome because it’s going for an old school DND vibe, but it’s all things that are made for 5th edition.  You can get it on their patreon, and I hiiiighly recommend it to anyone who plays 5e dnd!!  

Take us through your artistic process? What’s a typical day in the studio like? Haha extremely chaotic!  I don’t even have a real set workspace, which I really need to change, I just draw where ever. Just chill out, listen to music or a podcast, and draw.  If I’m further along in a drawing and don’t need to focus so much, I’ll watch movies or video gameπ– let’s plays while I’m drawing.  I also love to listen to/ watch things that are in theme with what I’m drawing, to give me some inspiration.  I try to go to coffee shops to change things up sometimes!  Basically I just do a bunch of sketches until something materializes, and then I will just slowly refine the sketch.  I guess it’s not that exciting, but it’s cool to see the first sketch and the finished product because in my head, the sketch always looked like the finished product, but when you go back to look at it, it’s usually just indecipherable scribbles.

What are your essential art tools and materials? 90% of my art is just done using a .05 mechanical pencil and micron pens.  I also draw everything on smooth bristol.  If I have time and want to make my lines super crisp before I scan them in, i will use a light box.   Then for color, I generally use Kyle T Webster brushes in Photoshop with my Wacom tablet.   If I’m on the go, I like to draw things in Procreate on my iPad Pro, but I’m definitely not as good at doing detailed lines digitally.  

What do you do when you’re not drawing or working on projects? How do you unplug? Haha, I wish I ever truly unplugged, I think my brain is now melded into the internet!  But mostly I love to play video games.  JRPGs and anything From Software/ Soulsborne (currently obsessed with Sekiro!)  I also love comics and manga.  I’ve been reading The Girl From the Other Side, which is a beautiful dark fairytale Manga by Nagabe.  I also just got one called Witch Hat Atelier, which has the most amazing art! My partner also owns an insane amount of board games, so we play a lot of those.  I’m obsessed with coffee, and work part time at a coffee shop, and my favorite thing in the world to do is eat good food.    

What has been the most challenging project you’ve worked on? How did you overcome those obstacles and what did you take away from it? I made a kind of cosmic horror short story in mini comic form last year for SPX, I had very little time,  and it was my first time actually writing a story/ dialogue to go with my pictures.  It was insanely challenging.  I ended up with a finished product that I’m really proud of and that I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback on.  I think it really drove home the fact that I just need to stick with things and finish them, even if I don’t feel like they’re perfect.  I’m never going to have the time that I want, and I’m never going to feel like anything is perfect.  I can still make a great thing!  

What advice would you give someone who wants to follow in your footsteps and pursue art? Don’t spend 4 years doing nothing, but playing World of Warcraft (Or doooo?).  Uhhh, believe in yourself.  Be nice to other artists.  Draw all the time! Immerse yourself in things that inspire you!  Also, like I said before, things don’t need to be perfect.  Let go of perfect, because sometimes it’s an unattainable ideal.  Just do as good as you can, and don’t beat yourself up so much!  I’m horrible at advice!!!

What’s your best Art School tip that you want to share with folks?   Haha, I moved to Baltimore to go to MICA like, 14 years ago, and then realized I was poor, and would never be able to go to MICA… sooo… I never went to real art school.  I wanted to go so bad, and I still wish I’d had that experience, but I want other people who can’t afford it to know that you don’t NEED it.  Things are a bit harder, but you can find so much free info online if you have the drive, you can teach yourself so many things.  Don’t get discouraged just because art school isn’t gonna happen for you.

What are your favorite style of VANS? I love my lavender/ sea fog Authentic Vans, because they basically go with anything, but I am always eyeing those Sk8-His.

Anything you can share that is coming up?   Ahhhh, I have some realllly cool things that I can’t share yet, but just everyone keep an eye out (It will be very exciting, i swear)!!  As for things I can share, I’m working on some new t-shirt designs, and another comic, and also plan on drawing some more cool wizards in my spare time.   So if you wanna see some cool wizards, uhhh, come to my Instagram–you guys!  Let’s hang out and look at wizards.  And talk about wizards.  And if you don’t like wizards well, don’t come I guess.

FOLLOW JUSTINE: INSTAGRAM | WEBSITE | TWITTER | STORE 

[kissygrayson]

LANDSLIDE: Chapter Three - The New Kid.

... in which Harry and Y/N fall in love at University. 

series masterlist

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A few days had passed since Y/N had last seen Harry. They had texted a lot since the party, a lot meaning whenever they weren't at class or studying, they where texting. Zayn and Amy had met up the day after the party to finish their art project. Amy had told her everything that happened the night of the party after she left with Zayn, he had took her to his flat showing her his art work while Amy stood amazed. They then talked for a while Zayn helped Amy come up for an inspiration for her homework. They may have kissed a little.

Y/N had just finished up with a two hour anatomy lecture and all she wanted to do what get home into her pjs, order pizza and binge watch friends with Amy, but god had other plans. 

“Y/N!” She heard a familiar Irish voice call behind her. She turned to see Niall chasing after her, attempting to catch up while holding a million text books and his laptop. 

“Whats up?” she asked confused. She had never really spoken to Niall before, other than the odd hi they’d give her each while she passed his seat in class. 

“Are you busy tonight?” He asked while trying to catch his breath. 

“Im not sure, why? Are you okay?” She questioned. Confused as to why Niall was asking her out. 

“The boys and I are going out for food and a few drinks, nothing to exciting. But Zayn invited Amy, so im inviting you for Harry” He chuckled nervously. 

“And why couldn't Harry ask me himself?” She asked with a smirk. 

“Because he's a pussy and shit scared of Sophie, please come tonight!!” he paused while Sammie walked by giving them both a little wave. “And please invite Sammie, ill pay you”

Y/N watched as Niall’s eyes followed Sammie out of the building then turning his attention back to her.  

“Okay fine, only because I wanna see Amy and Zayn” she laughed.

The pair exchanged numbers then going on their own ways, while walking towards her flat Y/N sent a quick message to Harry. 

Y/N: why did niall just invite me to dinner tonight for you?

harry: i swear i’ll kill him one day. I was going to invite you anyways x

harry: are you coming?

Y/N: yeah, better be good bcos i was looking forward to watching friends all night 

harry: i’ll be there, it'll be worth it. x see you soon!!

Y/N: nothing is better than friends but okay harry :)

Y/N: see you later!!! x

Y/N shook her head laughing, probably looking insane. After the party and the chats her and Harry had over the past few days she’d grown to really like the boy, he always texted to check up on her, make sure she was drinking enough water and eating, that she hadn't overstudied that day knowing she pushed herself to the limit. Then the few times he’d phoned her to make sure she was okay when walking home alone at night. 

Harry had obviously fallen for the girl too, in a space of one week. He never thought he’d like anyone like that again after what had happened with Sophie. He had promised himself he wouldn't. But Y/N was different, there was something about her that Harry was obsessed with. 

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“When where you going to tell me you’re going out with Zayn tonight?” Y/N questioned Amy, both of them sat on Amy’s bed.

Amy looked at Y/N her eyebrows raised and a smile on her face “Harry finally grew some balls and asked you then?” 

“No” She laughed “Niall did”

“Niall? Zayn said he had a crush on Sammie?” Amy replied confused. 

“Oh, he definitely does. He invited me for Harry” Y/N said with a laugh. 

Amy laughed shaking her head. Harry had told Zayn who told Amy that Harry may or may not have a crush on her best friend, but Sophie was stopping him from acting on his feelings. Mostly scared that Y/N would get hurt, not by him but by Sophie. 

“Do you like him?” Amy asked like a little girl at a sleepover. Y/N shook her head trying not to show the smile on her face. Amy slapped her arm turning more from where she was sat. “You so do!!!” 

“Okay maybe a little, but I don't know Amy” Y/N groaned falling back, her head hitting the pillow, Amy then doing the same thing. 

“Im sure he likes you too Y/N/N” Amy said giving her best friend a small smile. She knew she couldn't tell her what Zayn had said, it wasn't her place to tell. Harry had to do that himself. 

“Lets just get ready, i’m starving and I really wanna see Zayn” Amy laughed then getting up and going towards her wardrobe. 

“You saw him an hour ago, obsessive already. I should warn him!” Y/N joked then speeding out of Amy’s bedroom before she could smack her with a boot. 

“Love you!!” Y/N called out. Amy giving her the finger in return. 

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We’re inside was the message written across Amy’s screen, sent by Louis. Her and Y/N entered the restaurant, it was packed with uni students and families, clearly being a popular spot in the area. They noticed the group sitting at a large table in the corner, chatting among themselves until Zayn noticed them. 

“Guys!” He called over waving his hands towards them. 

“Hey!!” Amy said shuffling in to sit beside the dark haired boy. Y/N took the empty seat beside Liam saying a small hi to him. 

“You must be Y/N” he smiled. Harry had told him a lot about her, like how they ended up in his room at his birthday party fangiriling over Stevie Nicks. Harry was sat to the right of Liam, who sat beside Sammie. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, move in towards Harry” He smiled. 

Y/N gave him a smile whispering a small thank you as she got up letting Liam get by her. 

“Hey love” Harry smiled widely pulling the girl into a side hug. Y/N smiled into the hug, her chin resting on his shoulder. 

“How was class?” he questioned. 

“Boring as usual, yours?” 

“Same” he replied, his eyes skimming over the menu, then passing it to her to look over. 

After deciding on their meals and ordering a few drinks the group all chatted among themselves. Niall, Sammie and Y/N complaining about how boring their lecture was, Amy and Zayn discussing their art projects, Louis was busy texting Abby who couldn't make it tonight due to studying and Liam and Harry chatted about Liams new obsession with pretty little liars, random he knows. 

Their food arrived, more drinks also. Y/N promised herself she wasn't going to drink, but her she was 3 drinks in. 

“I’m going to the bathroom, does anyone want anything else to drink?” She asked the group knowing she had to pass the bar on the way the back. 

She got a chorus of im good or no thanks. Harry tugged on her wrist before she could stand up. 

“Will you be okay?” He asked noticing the hundreds of young guys and older in the restaurant. 

Y/N laughed “Im going for a pee Harry, i’ll be fine” Harry shook his head in response whispering i’ll miss you. 

“You're obsessed mate” Niall laughed from across the table. Harry gave him the middle finger in response. 

“Fuck you Niall” he groaned. 

After finishing her business and reapplying her lipgloss Y/N left the bathroom. Taking the same route Liam had earlier she passed a table crowed with guys, a few girls too. She smiled at them, most of them returning it. 

“Y/N? Or am I mixing you up for someone else?” A guy in the group suddenly asked. She stopped in her tracks confused, she didn't recognise any the faces.

“Yeah? Whats up?” she asked, the boy who asked the question getting up and making his way towards her. Now stood in front her Rosabella noticed him as the new guy in her class, Ian. He had recently joined - 3 days ago. David her old study buddy was kicked from the class for not attending his classes, being caught taking drugs on campus and selling. She was glad he had bailed on her the times he did not wanting to get caught up with that. Ian was his replacement in class. 

“You’re new? Im sure I saw you earlier?” She laughed. Ian ran his hand through his black hair a smile playing on his face. 

From the table across the room Niall had caught where Harrys eyed glared at. He chuckled realising what was happening. 

“Don't be jealous H” Niall said. The group turned to him in confusion to which he pointed his head in Y/N and Ians direction. 

“Thats the new kid Ian” Sammie said also noticing him from class. “He started a few days ago”

“You need to tell her Harry” Amy said. Harry leaned back in the seat, letting out a huff. The others nodded in agreement. 

Y/N laughed at something Ian had said again causing Harry to groan in annoyance even more before muttering “I know”. 

“You're gonna leave it too late bro” Louis said giving his best friend a sympathetic smile. Harry nodded, he knew. He was scared, shit scared. It had only been a week and he felt strongly about her. It scared him too much. 

“Hey guys” Y/N smiled happily taking her seat beside Harry, then taking a sip of her drink. Harry watched her while a smile, she truly was something else. 

“Who where you talking too?” Amy asked breaking the silence. 

“Ian, he just started taking our classes” she said pointing to Niall and Sammie. “He was just asking me to help him catch up” She smiled unaware of the glare Harry was now sending in Ian’s direction. 

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taglist: @vinylhazza @cryinabtharvey

[cloudsncoffee]

Idk how to explain this but I have this concept for a girl dating Jo who is super socially conscientious and very anti fast fashion and promotes eco fashion/ brands that pay a living wage, no sweatshops, is environment friendly, etc and and when the boys are on tour they stay for the weekend at her place so there’s a bunch of late night talks and they get close and her passion gets brought up and obvi the boys love fashion/ a good fit so they’d be really interested in what she has to say abt it

Do you know how much I love a research project? 

Also, dialogue/banter is my happy place  

…

“I thought you said you had a spare room,” Jack is staring at the clothing racks lining the walls around the bed, “This doesn’t look very ‘spare’.”

You shrug, smiling a little, “It’s storage, mostly, and studio overflow.” 

“Studio?” Zach tilts his head like a puppy, dropping his duffle on the futon. 

Jonah, somehow, talked you into hosting a band sleepover tonight after the hotel they were supposed to stay at got leaked. You said yes because you had the space, but six people crammed into your loft one top of all your work is still a lot. 

“What studio?” Daniel gets excited. 

“Not that kind of studio,” Jonah shakes his head, grinning, “It’s for fact fashion.” 

“I’m confused,” Corbyn narrows his eyes, “What’s fact fashion?” 

“It might be easier just to show you,” You lead them out of the guest room and into the studio, flipping on the lights, illuminating your piles of boxes and sewing machine and finished products. Every one of them, save for Jonah, gapes. 

“It’s a play on words, sort of,” You explain, “My brand; it’s fact instead of fast fashion, get it?”

“Ah, no?” Corbyn raises one eyebrow, still completely baffled, “I don’t know what fast fashion means either.” 

“Oh, man,” Jonah laughs, “I hope you’re prepared to take notes.” 

“Shut up,” You elbow him a little, “You like it.” 

“Yeah, I do,” His hand sides up your back, tangling his fingers in your hair, “Your passion is so sexy.” 

“Alright,” Jack interrupts, “That’s enough of that. We all have to sleep here tonight,” He smirks, “Actually sleep, not the other thing you’re thinking about.” 

“Yeah, Jack,” Jonah ignores him, still looking at you, “I am aware of what sleep means.” 

“Back to my question,” Corbyn leans forward, “What’s a fast fashion?” 

“So,” You search for an example they’d be able to recognize, “You know those packs of tee shirts you can get at Walmart?” 

“Yes?” Corbyn drags out the word. 

“Have you ever thought about why those are so cheap?” 

“Because the quality sucks,” Jack offers, “Anything from Walmart is good for like two wears then it’s basically trash.” 

“That’s definitely part of it,” You nod, “But the bigger idea is that for the company to sell something that cheap, someone somewhere else is paying for it.” 

“I don’t get it,” Zach pouts, and you fight the urge to ruffle his hair. 

“Cheap is almost code for cheating,” You explain, “And that usually means on the people on the assembly line,” 

“Like all those horrible factories,” Corbyn makes the connection. 

Jack gets it too, “I’ve seen those stories, where people have to work thirty hours a day and sleep in rooms without windows.” 

“Well,” You don’t smile at his mathematical failing, but it’s a near thing, “Thirty hours a day is impossible, but there’s still way too many people being forced into working inhuman shifts. Being against fast fashion is about being for those people. It’s not just about wanting quality in your clothes, but about wanting quality in the lives of the people who make them.” 

Corbyn nods, “I’ve never really thought about it like that before.” 

“So, your brand,” Daniel drawls, looking at the racks of jackets along the wall. 

“I do something called upcycling,” You take one down and show him the back, “Basically, I use vintage materials to give old jackets, usually denim but sometimes leather, a new life.” 

“She turns them into art,” Jonah insists, “Look at this,” He pulls a hanger with one of your designs half-finishes, biting lips sewn into the back panel of the denim in vintage velvet and embroidery. 

“That is sick,” Corbyn starts looking through the rest of the rack, “You have to make me one,” 

“Me too,” Zach and Jack jinx each other. 

Daniel nods in agreement too, his eyes hopeful. 

Jonah laughs, “Guys, I don’t even have one.” 

“Actually,” You cross the room to the box on your desk.

Jonah is freezes, “Wait. Really?” 

“Maybe,” You don’t look back, and suddenly, he’s right behind you.

Jonah hooks his chin over your shoulder and runs his hand over the lid, “Can I?” 

“It’s yours,” You answer, your heart beating so fast you think it might beat out of your chest. Jonah’s been so supportive of you but it’s still more terrifying than you imagined to give him the piece you’ve been working on for months, saving scraps of material and searching every vintage store you know for his jacket. You finally found it in New York, wide enough in the shoulders and long enough in the sleeves to fit his body, taken from a collection nearly thirty years old. It must have true black at one point, but now it’s faded to gray in places, not threadbare but worn in in a way that means he’ll be able to move in it. You left the front alone, stitched fabric to the inside of the cuffs for a bit of color when he pushes up his sleeves, and spent hours working on the back. 

Jonah unfolds it, holding it up to admire it, and the guys sees the back first. 

“Damn,” Corbyn swears, “That’s so cool.” 

Jonah turns it over, and finds his signature, scrawled across the back in your favorite fabrics. “Baby,” His voice is reverent. He carefully flips up the collar, looking at the spot he knows you place your signature, where you stitch facts about the industry, about recycling, your little attempts at save the planet, and reads instead,

“‘Fact: I love you.’” 

You haven’t said it yet, not out loud, and this isn’t how you thought that moment would go, but it doesn’t make it any less perfect. 

Jonah looks down at you, smiling, “Is that a fact?”

“You know I’m very committed to the truth,” You smirk.

“God, I love you,” He mutters, cradling his jacket in one hand and your head the other to press you lips together. 

You get lost in it, his mouth on yours makes the rest of the world cease to exist, until someone clears their throat.

“Again,” Jack sighs, “We’re all sleeping here tonight. Sleeping.” 

Zach punches him, but Corbyn interrupts too, “Yeah, and we need to discuss mine, because Jonah can’t have the best fit in the band. That’s insanity.” 

You smile, proud and bashful and so happy all at the same time. It’s not insane for Jonah to be the best dressed, he is your boyfriend after all, but it is a pretty good description of your life; Insanity, but the best kind. 

[new-to-this123]

Are You Jealous?

As per requested

Could you please do jealous Monty smut with lots of dirty talk and daddy kink

This is my first smut. so i apologize if it aint that good. lol

Monty X Reader

warning: Smut, swearing

word count: 1945

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You and Monty had been sleeping together for close to a year. You werent dating, because neither one of you liked labels, just sleeping together and doing everything a couple does. You would hold hands at school, kiss, make out, sit on his lap. Literally everything couples did you did.

You had arrived early to school to finish a school project worth 50% of your final grade. Every time you tried to do it after school, monty wouldn't let you. He would kiss your neck and run his hands down your body and tease you until you gave in to him and you'd end up having sex.

“You're here early” you turn around to see Jeff and Clay.

“I could say the same for you! Don't you guys usually tutor at lunch time?” you replied

“Trying something new” Clay said sarcastically.

“Oh are you still trying to get him with hannah? Because shes in the Mr. P. English class. I was just there with her.” you replied smiling

“Yes i am, now clay go! Your damsel awaits your arrival!” Jeff said pushing clay.

Clay walked away, looking back at You and jeff shaking his head.

You and jeff had been friends since the beginning of school. You had met in Kindergarten and it started a friendship everyone wanted.

You both decided to sit on the ground, at the floor of your locker to talk. You had your head resting on his shoulder laughing and joking around, talking about baseball, leah, monty.

You didn't see monty and the other jocks walk in the school until you heard Justin yell from across the hall.

“Get a damn room Atkins”

You both separated each from each other, standing up laughing. The boys came up to you guys. Usually monty kisses you. Not today. He stood there looking at you, with a look in his eyes you'd never seen before. You grabbed his hand and walked a few lockers over.

“Whats up? Why are you being a grouch?” You asked

“Um i wasn't the one intertwined with my “best friend”” he replied doing air quotations on the best friend.

“We were talking about him and Leah. and either way jeff is like a brother to me. Never been with him and i don't want to either.”

“Mmhmm” was all that came out of montys mouth.

“Oh my god! Are you…..jealous?” you asked in a half serious half joking manner.

“You know what” monty started before leaning down pushing you against the locker holding your waist, whispering

“I think you need to be punished like the naughty girl you've been”

You bit your lip looking at monty with your most innocent face, whispering while sliding your hand up his leg to stop on his half hard penis.

“Mmm I'm sorry daddy. I didn't mean to be naughty.”

Monty pushed up against you more then he already was. He kissed you neck and you let out a moan.

“Let's go we’re going to your place” monty said grabbing your hand leading you toward his car.

You sat in the jeep, looked at monty

“I want you to tell me what you're going to do to me daddy” you said in a seductive voice biting your lip.

“Nope, naughty girls don't get to know.” monty said with a smirk placing his hand on your thigh squeezing hard, turning you on.

“But daddy, i didn't try to be naughty. I'll be a good girl for you” you said putting the tip of your index finger in your mouth, to tease monty some more.

“Oh baby girl just wait till i get you in your room” he said moving his up your thigh to touch your heat through your pants. You let out a moan.

Monty had made it to your house in record time. You both got out the jeep, and monty ran over to your side and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He hand his hands on your ass, kissing your neck.

“Babe lets take this inside, i don't need the neighbors telling my parents we were fucking in the front yard” you said between moans

Monty smacked your ass looking at you.

“That's daddy to you baby girl”

He walked up to your front door still holding you. Your parents never locked their doors. He opened it, and walked up to your room kissing your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys.

“Im gonna fuck you so good babygirl” monty said dominantly as he put you on the ground sitting on your bed.

You stood there just biting your bottom lip, knowing when he was in this mood, you did not move unless he told you too. Monty looked at you, running his eyes from the top to bottom, with a smik on his face.

“Strip”

“What?” you said as he caught you off guard

“I said Strip NOW”

You were gonna make it long and slow. You started slowly taking off your shirt. Creeping it up slowly. You got it over your head. Monty grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him. Kissing your stomach and the trail between your breast.

“I did not say you could be a tease.” monty said unhooking your bra.

“Mmmm i'm gonna have to punish you some more” he said grabbing both your boobs with his hands. He sucked the tip of one nipple, pulled away and blew gently on it. You let out a moan.

“Fuck me daddy, please fuck me” you begged

“Haha my babygirl is eager. But no” monty said standing up pushing you n the bed. He laid on top of you, placing a hand on either side of your head to keep himself up. He kissed your lips

“I'm punishing you, for being a tease.” he leaned in, very close to your lips ‘This goes my way.”

With that he stood up, and looked at your half naked body. He slowly moved closer. He brought his hands to the button on your jeans, unbuttoning  them and pulling them down painfully slow.

Still in your underwear, Monty ran his hands over your heat.

“Mmm Babygirl you’re already wet, and i havent done anything”

You just looked at him, your eyes begging him to fuck you.

He looked at you and smirked as he moved his hands to the band of your thong, pulling it off you.

He lowered himself, onto his knees, grabbing your legs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. He placed your legs on his shoulders. He squeezed your thighs and kissed them roughly. Your hand went to his hair as he sucked and gave you hickeys on your thighs. Monty pulled away at your touch. “No no babygirl, no touching” Monty looked at you.

“ oh but daddy i have to touch you”  you replied

“Hmm looks like i'm gonna have to change things up then.” monty walked over to your closet adn grabbed the tie he left at your place the first time he tied you up.

You saw him turn around with the ties and you got so excited. You loved it when he tied you up.

You walked over to you, tied your hands together before tying them to the headboard.

“ now you'll listen better” monty smirked, climbed on the bed, and lifted both your legs over his shoulders again.

“ i can see your wetness babygirl. You're so naughty. You enjoy being tied up”

“Only if its you daddy” you said in a low voice.

Monty kissed down your stomach stopping when he reach your sweet spot. He looked at you in the eyes and said

“ No cumming”

He licked your heat a few times causing you to moan.

“ mm you taste to good babygirl.” He circled his tongue around your clit before gently biting it.

“ omg daddy” you moaned which caused monty to smile and start sucking on your clit flicking his tongue over it.

You could feel your high building up. He slid a finger inside of you which caused you to almost scream with pleasure.

“ please daddy, can i cum?”

“No babygirl” he moaned between licks and sucks.

He inserted another finger in you causing you moan even louder and push your hips up he kept your pearl in his mouth and fingered you until he sensed your wall getting tighter. He pulled his face away from in between you. He got off the bed. You followed him with your eyes.

Monty took his shirt off, followed by his jeans and boxers. Monty saw you look at him

“You want daddys hard cock in you babygirl?” monty ask getting on the bed.

“ yes daddy” you replied with an innocent face as monty placed himself between your legs.

“ Remember, no cumming baby girl” as Monty said that he placed his hard cock at the opening of your very wet, and wanting pussy. Monty, wanting to be a tease, slowly pushed the tip of his dick inside you, pulling out and doing it again and again.

“Please daddy! Fuck me” you asked your hands still tied above your head

“Mmm babygirl i make the rules. But your begging is so fucking hot” He leaned down and kissed your lips. You kept kissing, you were moving your hips hoping to get his hard cock inside you. With one hard thrust Montys full length was in you. Your head flung back and your hips raised up as you let out a loud moan.

Monty was slowly thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my god babygirl your so tight”

Monty kept thrusting in and out slowly. Driving you insane.

“Faster daddy” you moaned

Montys face lit up at those words. He took both your legs put them on his shoulders,  He placed a hand on your neck gently choking you, and picked up the pace. He was now pounding his hard on inside you. He was hitting your gpot with every thrust. He kept the same fast paced, never slowed down. You were a moaning mess. You felt your high building up

“Oh my god daddy dont stop” you moaned loudly

“Your wish is my command babygirl” monty replied smile on his face, pounding yu harder and faster.

He could feel your walls getting tighter around his hard on. He smirked bringing his down from your neck to you clit and rubbed it hard.

“Oh daddy can i cum? Please can i cum daddy” you begged

“Not yet babygirl” he replied fucking you harder and rubbing your

“ please daddy. Please daddy let me cum”

Monty just shook his head no as he smirked. He loved it when you begged. He also loved making you wait to your breaking point before letting you cum.

Monty could feel his high building on. He rubbed your clit harder and faster and never slowed his fast rough pace fucking you.

“DAAADDDDY PLEASE” you sreamed not sure you could contain your high any longer.

“Cum babygirl”

You let yourself go.  Monty didn't stop pounding you, he kept going. Thrusting his cock in and out of you, rubbing your clit. You could feel monty finishing in you. He reached up, untied your hands and layed himself on top of you.

“ i love you Y/N” you wrapped your arms around him, surprised at what he had just said

“ i love you too monty”

Monty lifted his head up off your chest and looked you in the eyes

“Be mine? Like my girlfriend” monty asked catching you off guard

“ of course” you replied kissing him.

You both curled up under the blankets intertwined in each other and fell asleep.

[i-am-parsec]

Unaddressed Letters - Part V

                                                           Leaving Jacksonville - part I

The night they leave is warm and quiet. End of the summer, the streets downtown are still fairly crowed after the sun goes down, Stacy has some costumers roaming around the thrift shop while Chase, just across the street, sweats in the kitchen of a Mexican restaurant, trying to leave no meat uncooked and no drink without ice.

During a brief moment of precious spare time, he checks his phone.

“Call me when you are done with the dishes, kitchen boy" reads the screen.

His heart skips a beat and he frowns. Of course she’s texting him, they are friends. They go back home together every single night after work. This is not something worth a heart-beat skipping, when the fuck is his brain going to get the memo?

He can’t continue his internal screaming - those burritos aren’t going to make themselves.

The young girl puts her phone away as an old man approaches the counter. Dark eyes, whitening short brown hair, a full goatee and about two heads taller than her. He doesn’t look scary per se, but neither does he look friendly and yet Stacy is invaded by an strange feeling of warm comfort when met by this unknown client and ponders, for a second, why. When it clicks, her hands freeze. She keeps her gaze glued on the light blue shirt she’s bagging, choking back the tears. It’s always like this, something ordinary, unimportant, pulls the trigger and the pain rushes to her eyes. She manages to snap out of it, but not without the man noticing.

“Is everything okay, ma’am?”

Fuck, even his voice is similar. She fails at smiling and looks away.

“Yes, sir, it’s just…you look a lot like...uh, my dad. Well, not a lot, it’s mostly the beard...I think…”

As she looks down, it’s impossible to deny the burn in her throat and the shaking of her hands. Not now, please, not here. Crying during working hours in a thrift shop that’s probably – totally – laundering drug money.

Well, that’s a new low.

“Did you lose him recently?” asks the man gently, prompting her to look up.

“No, I…I lost him when I was kid. He was shot…a robbery gone wrong…”

He nods, no trace of pity in his features, only compassion and understanding. Maybe he lives in town, maybe he also lost someone in the hands of the corrupted and greedy. Maybe he knows this pain too.

“I’m sorry to tell you, darling, that it won’t ever stop hurting, especially in your case, a loss so unfair, but let me tell you this…” the old man stops for a second, and then, with more conviction than Stacy has ever witnessed in her entire life “…you are strong enough to handle this and any other nonsense that life throws at you. You just gotta remember that, always."

Her phone buzzes for a long minute but she doesn’t pick up. She’s still holding her breath when he gives her the money. She wants to tell him to not worry about it, the shirt is on her, but with such a tight budget, every cent counts. All she can do is smile and thank him.

Another call. She tries her best to sound calm but Chase can tell something's wrong in the tiredness of her "hey". She explains quickly, hoping to ease his friend's mind - he's already anxious mess by default, wouldn't want to fuel it up - and after repeating at least ten times "yes, Chase, I swear I'm ok now", she sighs and then asks.

"Can we go down to the bar tonight?"

There's a second of silence. She hates drinking or, to be more precise, she hates seeing him drinking. She claims he likes it a bit too much for his own good. She continues.

"I'll hurry up and close this dumpster in a minute, and then we go straight down to Joe's, what do you say?"

He knows what his friend is doing, she's avoiding herself, avoiding the thinking, the pain and honestly, he can't blame her. He's been there, done that, and she always stayed by his side whenever he went into Emotionless Drunk Mess mode, so he has no problem returning the favor now.

"I say I'm covered in sweat, blood and other unknown bodily fluids so maybe we go home and take a shower first?"

When she laughs, he feels his heart become a little lighter.

"First of all: ew, gross; secondly: We take shower? Are you suggesting we take it together, Brody?"

And there it is, that's the Stacy he knows and loves - a teasing smart ass. This time though, he doesn't let her words fluster him - too much - and attacks back.

"Of course, Walters, we gotta do it for the environment's sake, you know? We gotta save water!"

"Oh, yeah, totally, that’s why, it has nothing to do with you dying to see me naked."

"I feel so insulted you would even dare to think that, young lady, I am a gentleman!"

"Oh, sure thing, perv. Okay, I'll finish here and meet you outside in a bit."

The smile on his face lingers all the way until he sees her walking out the store. He nods curiously at the bag on her hand. She smiles like a kid planning a prank and simply winks.

“I’m just borrowing a little something.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s called stealing, Stacy.”

She chuckles and then, as she usually does, starts a fire in his chest with just a short phrase.

“Don’t judge me, I just want to look pretty for our date.”

She’s joking, Brody, she’s fucking joking, like all friends do.

Just as they get to their stop, their bus arrives.

“This must be our lucky night” exclaims Stacy surprised. Once they are settled in their seats, she rests her head  on his shoulder and grabs his hand. Chase simply does his best to not suffer a stroke.

“We have to get out of here, dude. Soon.”

“That’s the plan” stutters the young man, wishing he could sound a bit less nervous by something that they have been doing for years now.

“Yeah, I know, but we always talk about it as a goal in the future and I…I don’t know. I feel like we shouldn’t wait too long or we might end up never leave this town” mutters Stacy with a sudden grim tone.

“Don’t say that, dude, of course we are doing it,” says her friend as her grabs her chin, looking for her eyes, all awkwardness replaced by the imperative need to bring her smile back “we promised we would, didn’t we?”

She nods half-heartedly and snuggles up against him, like a lost dog hides from the rain under a frail tree. As he hugs her, bringing her closer, he whispers against her dark hair: “Let’s set a date.”

“For our wedding? Sorry, Brody, but you haven’t even proposed to me yet” she jokes dryly.

Ignoring the sudden rush of heat on his body, he replies: “No, dumbass, for our escape!”

She come out of her shelter and looks at him with a hint of excitement on her eyes.

“A date?”

“Yeah, a date. Tell me when you want to leave.”

She bites her lower lip - one of her many quirks that drives him insane - and inhales slowly. As she breathes out, she answers: “End of this year. That should give us enough time to save a decent amount of money, make a good plan and maybe find a place to rent.”

“Well, end of the year it is. December 31 we are getting the fuck out of Jacksonville.”

And when he laughs, she feels the whole world become a little lighter.

More info, previous chapters, tag list AND HEADCANONS under the cut

First and foremost, I apologize for any mistakes in the chapter. This one wasn’t proof-read either and on top of that I wrote it on a rush but hopefully it’s decent ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

All chapters in chronological order, here. Previous chapter, here. Next chapter, here.

SO, yes, this is a two-part chapter - truth be told, I’m only posting this now and not both parts as one since I’m quite busy and have no time to finish writing it but I still wanted to post something now as, idk, a christmas special???? whatever, I just wanted to post it, lol

Anyways, HEADCANON TIME:

* As you may have noticed in the last chapter, Chase and Stacy’s daughter - Esperanza (which, by the way, means Hope in Spanish) - has a VERY Latino name, well, that’s because my hc is that Stacy is latina! Well, half latina, her mom is latina, her dad is white and because Stacy is white-passing and her mom knew about the struggles of being a Latina woman in the US, Stacy’s parents decided to give her a very white first name, so she would have it “easier” in life. Spoiler alert: she didn’t have it easier in life. Like, at all.

* Despite that, she still has a very Latino second name - Dolores (which means Pains in Spanish *winkwink*) - that she loves just as much as she loves her Latino heritage, and that’s why she named her daughter like that - Chase 100% loves the name as well.

* This is kinda spoilerish (because I will explore this headcanon in far more depth later on the fic) but I still feel you guys should know: Before they were the best of friends, Henrik and Chase were penpals - they met through an elementary school penpal project and kept writing each other all the way until adulthood, when they finally met face to face.

* Neither Chase or Stacy had pets - or were allowed to have any - by the time they became friends, but they both love animals and started feeding a cat they always came across on their way to school. They named the cat Sam.

* Stacy is allergic to cats. She loved Sam from a distance.

* Chase knows quite a bit of Spanish Stacy taugh him. She didn’t teach him just for funsies but because she ended up getting him a job in a Mexican restaurant and the owners didn’t speak English. She was very impressed by how easy it was for him to get used to the Latino enviroment and how good he turned out to be at cooking.

* Chase knows Stacy likes her second name better than her first, but sucks at pronuncing it correctly so he only call her Dolores jokingly andsometimeswhentheyhavesex

* They weren’t each others “first”, but Stacy told Chase after they did it for the first time that she had never enjoyed sex before him (and Chase almost cried because of such huge compliment).

* Esperanza is fluent in Spanish and English and knows a bit of German thanks to Uncle Henrik. Henrik is also Esperanza’s godfather.

I have way more headcanons but all of them are incredibly spoilery, so this is all you get for now. Now let’s move on to the next chap-

❤  Tag list ❤: @amyxmiaplay, @beck-pma, @closedworldofmathiel, @darktrash-drash, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @flyingfishflopsthings, @fruitycasket, @happysingingturtles, @hiimizzyxoxo, @hishex, @kitnkas, @mcomegalletas, @mijako98, @mjjau, @mysterious-cupcake-ninja, @mysticalanimallover, @novasingalaxies, @plutoandpolaris, @probablyghosting, @randomartdudette, @saltyweirdbi, @sassy-in-glasses, @scarlet--raven, @septicuniverse, @skyewardlight, @thevampireauthoress, @youllnevertaketheskyfromme

Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please reblog, that helps me a lot ❤

[writeyouin]

Hello I was wondering if you could do a tadashi (bh6) x nurse reader fic (or oneshot) and/or a V (V for vendetta) x nurse reader. Merci :)

Tadashi X Reader – Medical Student

A/N – Originally, I had a plot as to why the other students disliked the reader, but I decided not to put it in because this is like… 6 pages long.

Warnings – Minor Swearing.

Rating – T

Tadashi glanced at the first schematics for Baymax. He now had the designs for the skeleton and the data chip that would contain the medical protocols and procedures. Excited to start changing the world, Tadashi begun work on the database that would go on the chip. The work carried on into the night, but he was finally ready to upload it onto the drive.

An error message appeared on the holographic computer screen only six percent into the data transfer. Tadashi frowned tiredly, he’d been ready to finish for the night, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop until he found the source of the problem.

After numerous diagnostics and scans ran on the computer that consumed further hours, Tadashi still hadn’t found a solution.

“Burning the midnight oil, Mr Hamada?” Professor Callaghan entered the lab.

“As always,” Tadashi answered amiably.

Callaghan glanced at the computer screen where the error message stubbornly remained. “It seems that you’ve ran into some programming trouble. May I?”

“Sure,” Tadashi moves aside, letting Callaghan sit at the desk.

Callaghan examined the extensive database, tapping idly at some keys to highlight the problem on screen. “Well Mr Hamada, it’s apparent that the base program on the chip can’t contain the database you’re trying to download because of conflicting information. Take a look at this for example, one treatment for infections is antibacterial spray, another older method suggests leeches. The program doesn’t know which to prioritise. My suggestion is to come back tomorrow and visit the medical students after classes. Try to get their professor’s permission to work with one of the students; maybe they can organise your database.”

“Thanks professor.”

Callaghan nodded and the two walked out together.

Tadashi roamed the halls of the medical building. Although it was much smaller than the tech building he worked in, he’d still managed to get lost.

“Young man!” A squat Korean lady said sternly with her hands on her hips. “As head of the medical department I make it my business to know all the medical students, you are not one of them and have no business being here.”

Professor Callaghan had forewarned Tadashi of Doctor Kirkbride for she was apparently a tough lady to impress.

“Excuse me Doctor Kirkbride, I’m Tadashi Hamada, a technology student and-”

“And you’re making me late for class. Walk and talk, hurry now.”

Tadashi kept up with the brisk pace set by Doctor Kirkbride, explaining his plight all the while. By the time they reached the auditorium Kirkbride stopped Tadashi, “You want one of my students, fine, but if you get in the way of their education, we’ll be using you in class instead of Mr Cadaver. Got it?”

Tadashi nodded nervously.

“Good. You’ll have to find a volunteer yourself. Good luck getting a partner with exams coming up.”

She opened the door, exuding power and silencing the congregation of students talking outside of their designated work areas.

“Class,” she boomed, “This is Tadashi Hamada, one of the technology students. He needs help compiling a medical database for his project. Is anyone willing to volunteer?”

Everyone avoided his gaze.

“No? Then get to your work stations and follow the instructions there. Mr Hamada, you’ll have to present your case yourself.”

Doctor Kirkbride left him alone. He looked around the room uncertainly. Everyone was in a group of three at a work station that had an outdated whiteboard with instructions and dummy patients which seemed to have seen better days; evidently the medical building didn’t get as much funding as the rest of the university.

With his friendliest smile, Tadashi approached the first group with the identical twins Iroh and Kyo as well as a girl named Ivy.

“Hey,” he started confidently, “would you-”

“Busy,” the twins pushed past him, inserting a catheter and IV into the dummy.

He looked to Ivy, “Exams,” she deadpanned, ignoring him.

Tadashi refused to be disappointed, moving onto the next group, then the one after that and the one after that; nobody gave him the time of day. Finally, he got to the last table which had the only person not working in a group; you.

With low expectations he spoke, “Hi, I’m-”

You held up a hand, “Tadashi, yeah. You’re awfully persistent for somebody rejected by twenty-four people. Don’t you get it? Nobody wants to work with you.”

Tadashi slumped slightly, “Yeah, I know, exams.”

“Seriously? You believe that crap? That’s not why they won’t work with you.”

“Then why?”

“‘Cos, you tech types are all the same. You waltz in here, take a procedure that was perfectly fine in the first place and make a make a machine that does it. We’re all afraid that whatever you’re building will make us obsolete before we’ve even finished training.”

Tadashi frowned, his mouth slightly agape, “I never really thought of it that way… I don’t want to make anyone obsolete, I’m just trying to help people.”

You leaned against the operating table, interested in the flurry of emotions showing in Tadashi’s eyes. Before, he had the same hope you had every day on your way to becoming a doctor, now he was displaying a complex mix of sadness, confusion, and guilt.

“Your project,” you said, “how many will it help?”

“When it’s done? Millions.”

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, muttering, “This better not affect my grades.” Then to Tadashi, “Fine, I’m (Y/N) and I guess I can sort your database.”

Tadashi shook with excitement, making you giggle with his impromptu dance. “Thank you, I promise you won’t regret this.”

“OY!” A red-haired student in the group next to yours called. “You workin’ with ‘im?”

“Yeah,” you answered nonchalantly.

“Fuckin’ sell-out.”

Tadashi deflated, watching you apologetically, “I-”

You shook your head at him, “If you dare apologise I’ll quit.”

“But if this makes you unpopular-”

“Ha! I’m working on my own in a group assignment, you don’t get more unpopular than that. See, you’re already taking credit for what I did all on my own. Give it a week and see if you still want to work with me. Now get out, I finish in an hour, meet me outside then and I’ll see what I’m working with.”

You threw your arms up angrily, reading over the database, “What the hell is this? The sources are totally uncredible, it’s disorganised, it’s… is that a Wikipedia page? Good lord, it is. And on top of all this you want me to write up treatments for everything? EVERYTHING? You’re insane, this is impossible.”

Tadashi got down on his knees, holding his hands together and begging you with huge puppy eyes, “Not even for me?”

You grabbed his cap from the desk, shoving it in his face and pushing him over with the force.

“Huh, a wild (Y/N) attacks when angered,” Tadashi reported, leaning up from the floor.

You struggled to suppress a smile, “Like a viper.”

“Pray tell crazy viper person, how can I get you to do this?”

“Inject caffeine into my blood stream until this is all over.”

“I think I can make that work.”

“Then we better get started, come on puppy dog, coffee, chop chop.”

Tadashi got up and saluted, “Yes Captain.”

You grinned as he left; perhaps working with him wouldn’t be as much of an irritant as you supposed.

Writing treatments to every ailment you could think of was excruciatingly slow work. Two months in and you’d barely made a dent. Yet the work wasn’t as unpleasant as you’d initially thought; your grades had improved considerably and working with Tadashi proved to be fun. He’d told you many of the misadventures of his little brother Hiro, and of his Aunt Cass who owned a café uptown somewhere.

While you enjoyed Tadashi’s company, he felt a lot more strongly towards you. He adored your grumpy humour and the way you were willing to work with him in the face of adversity from your classmates who had since ignored you completely. More than that, he loved that you genuinely wanted to help people even though you didn’t know what he was building. He’d told his family a little of you but kept details light and fleeting, unable to trust himself to speak without revealing too many of his own confused thoughts.

One night, after he’d stayed alone at the university to draw-up further plans for Baymax, he arrived back home to a surprise. You were sat in the café with a notepad and a medical journal. He’d never told you which café he lived at, but coincidence had brought you there. Never before had he cared about looking cool in front of you but before he knew when and where you were going to meet. Suddenly something was different, it may have been the concentrated frown you wore or that you practically glowed under the café’s dim lighting, but he definitely felt something towards you.

Ignoring the onslaught of nerves, he entered, dropping casually into the seat opposite yours in the cosy booth, “You know, café’s are supposed to be for relaxing.”

“’Dashi!” You dropped the book with a surprise then smiled. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, I know the owner.”

As if on cue, Cass dropped by to see her nephew, “Tadashi, you’re home,” she said warmly.

“Hi Aunt Cass,” he got up to hug her.

Cass spotted you, “And you have a friend.”

“I’m (Y/N),” You got up to shake her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tadashi has told me so much about you.”

Tadashi blushed behind you, smiling affectionately at the friendly manner in which you regarded Cass.

Cass hummed knowingly, “Really? He has? Well that’s great. (Y/N), how about you join us for dinner?”

Tadashi swallowed apprehensively, he desperately wanted you to say yes and meet his family officially.

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Intruding? Of course not. Tadashi, take (Y/N) upstairs while I close up, oh I am so excited.”

She bounced on the spot and you realised exactly where Tadashi got his own little happy dance from; it had a heart-warming effect, comforting you in an unexpected way.

Over dinner, Cass learnt everything she could about you, leaving no question unasked. Hiro meanwhile, took an interest in you when you asked about the bot he was holding; he used the opportunity to show off until Tadashi started making fun of him for it. Although the family was a small one, the love was overwhelming. Cass clearly adored her two nephews; they were like three pieces of a jigsaw, different shapes but they fit together well. Alas, time flew, and it was time for you to head home yourself.

“It’s been wonderful meeting you,” You beamed at Aunt Cass, sticking your hand out.

Cass ignored the hand, hugging you tightly, “Come back soon.” When she let you go she asked, “How far is the walk home?”

“About forty minutes from here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“It’s alright, Tadashi already volunteered for that, he’s taking me back on his moped.”

“Right, drive safe Tadashi, and call me when you get there.”

Tadashi wrapped his arm around you, forgetting himself for a moment but staying when you didn’t protest, “Don’t worry Aunt Cass, we’ll be fine.”

With Cass calling goodbyes, Tadashi led you to the garage and his moped. He threw you a helmet which you caught with ease.

“And with a catch like that, (L/N)’s ready for the rugby team, (s)he could go all the way,” Tadashi cheered.

“And with a throw like that, Tadashi is ready to go back to summer camp, so he can learn from people with actual talent.”

He held his heart, mimicking pain, “It’s a low blow that brings pain with it, and after I was being nice to you.”

“Well yeah but you have to be nice to me because I’m doing your work for you, lazy boy.”

“A second low blow with a staggering effect. I can’t simply like you?”

You grinned, dancing towards him with a singsong voice, “You like me, you love me, you want to hug me.”

Tadashi tried to laugh but with each line you came a little bit closer, mocking him further, “You want to kiss me, you want to marry me…”

You trailed off, suddenly aware of the lack of laughter. At some point, the atmosphere had become heavy with unspoken thoughts on Tadashi’s behalf.

You frowned uncertainly, “Tadashi? What’s wrong?”

“I uh… You’re really great with my family,” he murmured. “Actually, you’re really great altogether.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Tadashi leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly against your cheek. Your heart raced; everything had been so normal only minutes ago but now things were different, evolved somehow.

He pulled away, not daring to ask if you felt the same way about him, “That’s enough for tonight, come on, I’ll take you home.”

He got on the moped. Although you had a million questions for him, time seemed to stop when you sat behind him and held onto him tightly. He was right, for now it was enough.

[just-jordie-things]

Drinking Confessions (and a miracle too) - Richie Tozier

word count: 6939 warnings: swearing, smoking, drinking (lots of it), mentions of possible sexual harassment, pent up derpession and anxiety, aaaaand Henry Bowers a/n: for @i-heart-movies bc y’all were ready for some Richie Tozier and I am servin it up on a silver bronzeish platter lmao enjoy

Becoming friends was just about the easiest thing you’ve ever done.  In fact, you couldn’t quite remember how it had happened.  Sometime in elementary school you were paired up together for some science project, and one thing led to another and now you were best friends.  And Richie Tozier did not look like the kind of crowd y/n l/n would waste her time with.

He was loud, and vulgar.  He wore ripped jeans and band shirts.  His language was about as foul (if not fouler) than a sailor’s.  While he was smart for his age, he put no effort into his studies.  He smoked on campus, spent fridays drowning in liquor at one of the more popular kid’s parties.  So drunk he’d barely keep his eyes open.  He got into fights with the Bowers gang, whether he started it or not, he always finished it.  He’d spend days away from home, crashing at a friend’s place, once so out of it on a park bench in November.

You weren’t a quiet girl, and you weren’t shy.  But you didn’t quite meet Richie’s extremities.  You wore jeans, a sweater, something comfortable and soft.  You swore, sure what teenager didn’t, but not to the extent of your friend’s obscenities.  You drank with him occasionally, even sharing a smoke every once in awhile.  But your clothes didn’t reek of cigarettes the same way his did.  You stayed clear of any sort of drama, no matter what disgusting thing Henry and his goons would slur at you, you’d turn the other way and pretend to not have heard it.  You followed your parents’ curfew, even though you knew deep down they didn’t give a shit if you ever came home.  And most of all, you studied your ass off for your grades, for at least two hours a day.

But oh, the time wasted with Richie was time cherished.

You were sitting on your desk chair, feet up on the edge of your bed and knees bent to properly keep your Bio textbook in place.  Flipping through pages and highlighting anything you felt needed reviewing.  Richie, who was sprawled on your bed and feeding you nonsense about some stupid thing Henry did, was not so eager to spend his Saturday studying in your room.

“y/n, this is boring” He complained for the umpteenth time.

“You said that” You replied, words awkward as the highlighter cap was between your teeth.  “I told you that you didn’t have to keep me company” You chided.  Also not particularly fond of him distracting you.

“Why can’t we just go to Jess’s? It’s supposed to be fun” He prompted, hoping you’d cave and go to the party with him.

“We went last weekend, what’s more special about this one? They’re all the same” You said, capping your marker.  Richie groaned and rolled his eyes, sitting up to face you.

“First of all, parties are for fun, and it’s the fucking weekend, so we should have fun” He argued.  You let him go on with hi persuading.  “Second, they’re not completely the same.  Bill said he’d go” This earned a chuckle from you.

“Really? Bill?” You stated sarcastically.  “He wants to go to party with a bunch of drunks, that always just ends with me trying to get you home before you puke on yourself?” Richie stared blankly at you.

“I’ve never puked on myself y/n” He stated matter of factly.

“Even if you had, you wouldn’t remember it” You said with a bark of a laugh.  “Face it Rich, you just go to get shit faced and why can’t you do that here where I can take care of you before you kill yourself?”

“Oh please, I’d never-”

“Two weeks ago you didn’t make it home, and you spent the night on a fucking park bench” You said, trying to not sound angry as you reminded him of the incident.

When he’d told you that he was that wasted, you had completely blown up on him.  About how irresponsible he was and that it was forty degrees outside and all he’d worn was a tee shirt and jeans last night.  You yelled about all the terrible scenarios that could have happened if Stan hadn’t found him on a early morning bird watching walk.  That he could’ve gotten kidnapped or molested or killed.  Your anger only bubbled more when Richie had told you to chill because he was fine.  He didn’t know your anger had come from a place of absolute concern.

“Right, and if you’re there, it won’t happen again” He promised.  You chewed on your lip, still not sure it was a good idea.

“I don’t know Rich it just doesn’t seem healthy”

“Like you’ve got a clean ledger” He retorted sarcastically.

“Alright so I’m not a virgin pure but I am not as insane as you” You said, and both of you began to laugh.  Richie shrugging, nodding his head knowing that compared to him, you were God’s favorite angel.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one” He said, liking the way you smiled as you tried to stop your laughing.  “But still, you and I never have fun together”

“What’re you talking about we hang out all the time” You said, scrunching up your eyebrows at such an accusation.

“Sure, but we don’t go out anymore” He said, looking down to fiddle with your sheets and avoid eye contact.  “We used to all the time, especially with the whole gang but…” You sighed, reaching your hand out to his, halting his fidgeting.

After the clown incident in ‘84, you and the Losers had made a literal blood promise to stick together, to come together if something this horrific ever happened again.  But after Bev left town a few months later, everyone began to break apart.  Ben was next to go, thn Mike, followed by Stan, and then Eddie.  Bill still talked to you and Richie here and there.  A brief hello in the halls, small discussion about your weekends in class. But other than that, it was just you and Richie.  Which you’d grown to be very grateful for.

“I know” You finally breathed out.  Keeping your emotions under control.  It’s been a year of managing them and so far you hadn’t broken once, which you prided yourself for.  It was much better to handle it internally instead of breaking down like a weak girl in front of him.  Richie sighed as well, and shook his head to rid his own feelings.

“Anyways.  We should go.  In like… an hour” He decided.  You nodded, half smiling as he grinned with excitement.  “Really? We can?” He asked eagerly and you laughed quietly, looking back to your textbook.

“One hour.  And no more than three beers!” You ordered, and he nodded, crossing an x over his chest with his finger.

“Promise!” He exclaimed, and you shook your head with laughter at his antics before getting back to your studying.

Now you could use those three beers.

“WHOOO!” All you could hear was booming music and screaming as you got out of your car, stuffing your keys into the pocket of your jeans.

“I can’t believe this is your scene” You sighed, but Richie grinned at you, pushing his glasses up his nose and slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“Come on babe lighten up” He said, taking an unopened beer right out of some guy’s hand.  The guy tried to chastise him, but was too drunk already to get the proper words out.

“Jesus it’s not even ten o’clock” You said, staring wide eyed at the drunken stumbling guy.  Richie didn’t even cast a glance over his shoulder, just yanked off the metal cap and threw back a long drink of the beer.  You cringed.  “Beer is ghastly” You muttered.

“Beer is ghastly” He repeated in a posh accent he often used to mock you.  Usually when you studied and would whisper things out loud to better remember them.  You laughed, nudging his rib with your elbow but he just tugged you closer, opening the door and letting you inside first.

The house was just raging.  With everything you expected to be at a high school party.  Drunks, stoners, sluts, sweaty dancing bodies, hormones off the charts.  You stuck close to Richie, like you did at every party you were dragged into.

“Come on hot stuff let’s go have some fuckin’ fun” He said, and you managed the best smile towards him you could as he pulled you with him towards the kitchen.

“No more than three” You reminded him, and he nodded, repeating the cross of his heart as he finished off the bottle he’d been holding.  You ogled at how quickly he’d drowned the liquid, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Number two doll!” He hollered, releasing you and maneuvering his way to the cooler that was sitting next to the counter.  He fished out a bottle, and you peeked down into the large tub of ice.  Multiple things in there, and you were certain none of them were a cherry cola.

You sighed, shrugged a shoulder, and bent over to grab a bottle similar to Richie’s.  He watched you out of surprise.  Sure, you were no virgin to alcohol, but you certainly weren’t… well… experienced.  Really just a sip when passing around a bottle, one drink from the spiked Prom night punch.

“Drinking for any reason?” He pondered, and you stared at him as you popped the cap off by wedging it on the edge of the counter.  It flung somewhere you didn’t see, but you heard the metal clatter on the floor.

“Yeah” You said, throwing it back like it was normal for you.  “To get drunk” You said.  You swallowed thickly, ignoring the disgusting taste and the way it made your mouth and throat feel sticky.

Richie just stared at you, still holding his unopened beer.  He didn’t know what to say, you’d never been like this before.  But he felt some sort of relief that he was there, that if you ended up sick that he could take you home.

“Alright just… take it easy babe” He said, copying your actions to remove the cap, and taking a tentative drink.

“Mhm” You mumbled, finally stopping for a breath and wiping your mouth with your sleeve.  His eyes flickered to your bottle to see half it’s contents were still there.  He looked around anxiously, leg bouncing as his thoughts wandered off.  “I know what I’m doing, I took Health last year” You told him, waving a dismissive hand before drinking again.

“Uh huh, stay here for a moment I gotta… I’m gonna use the bathroom I’ll be right back okay?” You nodded, beginning to bounce to the music booming throughout the house.  “Don’t move, I’ll be right back” He said sternly.  You grinned, setting the empty bottle on the counter and proudly looking at it.

“And mama says I never accomplished anything” You laughed at yourself and reached for another bottle.

Richie rushed out to the living room, pushing through the bodies in search of a phone, anywhere.

“Move, move, out of the way, move” He kept muttering, trying to keep his chill around the more… begrudging… bodies.  “Move, fucking move!” He started yelling louder, being more forceful and plowing past the crowd, towards the staircase.  He climbed the quickly, opening every door he passed, and jesus there were a lot of doors.

“Get out pervert!” A girl screamed, throwing what he through was a bra towards him before closing the door as quickly as he opened it.  Snickering and wincing at once.  Just as he was about to open another one, it swung open on it’s own.  Nearly hitting him and knocking his glasses off of his face.  But he stumbled back and adjusted them, seeing it hadn’t hauntingly opened.  The person exiting the room being Henry Bowers.

“Damn Tozier… the fuck you doing up here?” he asked, raising a flask to his lips and throwing back a quick gulp.

“Looking for a phone, now get out of my fucking way” Richie groaned, pushing the older boy, (only by a year, but Henry was repeating senior year because he didn’t have the credits to graduate) out of the way and searching through the room.

“The fuck did you just say to me Trashmouth?” Henry taunted.  Richie groaned out of frustration, not feeling the need to throw a punch and argue with Bowers, so he stomped back to the doorway, shut it, and locked the door so he wouldn’t give him any more trouble.  “Pussy!” Henry yelled, then made his way back downstairs.

“Mullet wearing pig fucking asshole” Richie grumbled, punching in one of the few numbers he still knew by heart and listening to the line ring.

He could’ve sworn it had been five minutes, tops.  Just five minutes of being apart from you.  It had to have been, how much time could have possibly passed? All he did was go upstairs, and make a call.

But when he came back down to see you on the dining room table, swinging your hips around seductively to a song he knew you couldn’t have known, time seemed to have been shorter upstairs.

(Another explanation, he thought, was that all time had stopped, and it was the end of the world.  Because this was never something he would’ve guessed to see)

And as he came back down to reality, that this was actually happening, he took in his surroundings.  There was a crowd around the table, around you, cheering you on, waving drinks and offering you more.  Richie’s mouth opened, and for a split second he lost all sense of how talking even worked.

“Dance! Dance!”

“Come on baby don’t stop those hips from moving!”

Everyone’s yelling and cheering and all the remarks- Richie was about ready to throw you over his shoulder and drag you all the way home, never to party again, never to drink again.

“Hey- hey everybody out of the fucking way!” He finally found his voice, shoving through a group of the more… vulgar commenting… boys.  And that was saying something from Richie’s perspective.  “Move! That means you asshole!” His voice grew more rigid, pissed that anybody other than him would dare speak of you in such ways.

“Richie?” You mumbled.  “Rich what’re… you’re… why’re you ‘ere?” You slurred, your movements stopping as he reached out for you.

“Come on y/n, we gotta get you home” He said in his gentlest voice.  You pouted, but took his hands and let him help you off the table.

“But I don’t wanna” You complained, and he wrapped when of your arms around his neck, seeing as even in flat bottomed shoes you couldn’t walk properly.  His other arm was around your waist, guiding you quickly away from all these freaks.

“Your mom will be pissed if I bring you back shit faced” He told you simply.  You stomped a foot, but it was a weak movement and didn’t even slow him down.

“But ‘m nnnot” You slurred.

“Yes, y/n, you are-”

“You heard the girl”

In seconds you were pulled out of Richie’s arms, and he spun around instantly to see Henry holding you upright, awkwardly.  Richie could’ve socked him across the face right there.

“What, the fuck, do you think you’re doing?” Richie gritted through his teeth.  Henry smirked back at him.

“Giving this girl the time of her life” He said.  “It is a party, isn’t it?” Henry asked, looking to you.  But your head was beginning to fall.

“No no y/n don’t fall aslee-”

“Fuck off Mama Tozier” Henry pushed Richie away, making the curly haired boy scowl and leap back towards him, taking you out of his arms swiftly and into his, embracing you against his chest carefully while glaring daggers at Henry over your shoulder.

“If you ever, fucking touch her again, I’ll shove that rusty fucking flask so far up your ass you’ll choke on it.  It’d be kinda hard for you to suck dick then wouldn’t it?” He threatened angrily.  Henry moved to swing, but some guy behind him grabbed his wrist and pushed him to the ground.  The bully toppled with ease from his intoxication, and Richie thanked the stranger before rushing you outside.

“Rich?” You mumbled, and almost fell over, bringing him with you, if he hadn’t secured his hold on you tighter.

“It’s okay princess, almost to the car” Richie said softly, rubbing your arms to warm you up in the bitter night air of Derry.  “I had a friend pick us up, okay? We can come back for your car in the morning” He knew that everything he was telling you was going in one ear and out the other, but he hoped that the gentle talking would calm you down.

“M’kie dokie” You mumbled, head falling on his shoulder as he guided you the rest of the way to the street.

“Fuck Richie” A familiar voice said, but you couldn’t quite place it.  And you couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to see more than a blurry, but… short figure? “Can she even fuckin’ stand?”

“Nope” Richie replied, opening the back car door, and hoisting you inside.  You mentally thanked him, not realizing you didn’t even say the words out loud.

“Jesus” The voice sighed.  “I’ve never seen her so fuckin’... out of it”

“Yeah.  Me either Eds” Richie breathed.  It was quiet for a moment, before Richie climbed in behind you, and the other boy went to the driver’s seat.

“Eddie Spaghetti?” You called, Richie’s slip of a name tipping you off on who your driver was.  Eddie smiled to himself, glancing at the both of you through his rearview mirror.  Richie was placing his hoodie around your shoulders like a blanket, and the thing was already too big for him so it looked like you were swimming in the material.

“Yeah it’s me n/n” He responded in a quiet voice.  His mind filling with the sad but strong feeling of nostalgia.

“Yay” You whispered, fingers rubbing the insides of Richie’s jacket.  Sometime between then and Eddie starting the car, you curled against the boy sitting with you, finding his body warmth much more pleasing than a nice smelling sweater.  “Mm you haven’t been smoking” You whispered, and Richie looked down at you as you got comfortable against his chest.

“No babe, I’ve been trying to stop” He told you honestly.

“ ‘m glad, you smell so good when you aren’t” You mused happily.  Eddie looked at the mirror again, both him and Richie sharing a wide eyed look.  Eddie’s more of shock, but Richie’s filled with… well the germaphobe could’ve sworn he saw hearts in Richie’s irises.

“Thanks babe” He finally responded, and you smiled in response.  A few minutes passed before he realized your breathing had slowed down.  “Hey, hey try not to fall asleep yet okay?” He leaned down towards you more to tuck your hair back out of your face, rubbing gentle circles on your back.

“Okay beautiful” You murmured, and worked harder to keep your eyes open.

Eddie snorted.

“The fuck you laughing at?” Richie asked, still caressing your back.

“Okay, beautiful” He gushed mockingly.  Though it didn’t embarrass Richie the way that he thought it would.  Just made his cheeks slightly pink as he looked down at your resting form, smiling softly down at you.

“Just a few more minutes” He promised you, and you nodded against him.

The rest of the ride was quiet, more back rubs and little noises you’d make when Eddie went over a bump or you passed a light too bright.

When he pulled into the driveway, you were just a few more minutes away from passing out.  Richie slid out of the car, took you in his arms.  Surprising you, as you’d tried to stand but he just lifted you up completely.  If you were in your right mind, you would’ve insisted on walking yourself.  But you weren’t sober enough, or awake enough, to care.  So you wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggled into him best you could.

“Thank you, Eddie” Richie said through the window Eddie had rolled down.

“Anytime.  Really” He replied quietly. A sad smile on his face.  “I’m always here for you guys… even if things have gotten weird and we’ve… well we’ve grown apart but… Loser’s club forever” Richie smiled back at him.  “Give me a call in the morning and tell me if she needs any aspirin, I’ve got every kind known to man stocked up in my cabinet” Both boys laughed quietly.

“Alright Eds I will.  Goodnight”

“Night you two” He responded, then rolled up the window, and drove back off towards his neighborhood.  You looked up from his chest as he opened the door and went inside.

“Hey! Kidnapper!” You called out while he locked the door behind you.  “This isn’t my house!”

“No babe, it’s my place.  My parents are out on business… I think… and there’s no way in hell that I’m taking you home this fucking wasted.  Your mom would beat the shit out of both of us” He told you.  You pursed your lips and nodded, looking around like it was the first time you’d been there.

He carried you up the steps, not even turning on the lights so that your eyes wouldn’t hurt.  The hall was short, he thanked God it wasn’t a maze like party-house’s had been.  He walked into his room, carefully setting you in bed and wrapping you up with blankets.  Your arms were outstretched, like you were waiting for him to lift you up again.

“No no babe, you’re in bed now, you can go to sleep” He assured you, rubbing your head with a smile.

“Oh” Was all you said, your features saddened.  You shut your eyes and rolled over, and Richie took your turned away body to change into some sweatpants and a tee shirt for bed.

“What’s on your mind babe?” He asked you, adjusting his clothes as he walked around to sit on the side you were facing.

“I’m so tired of pretending” You huffed.  Richie rose an eyebrow as he began to rub a hand up and down your arm.

“What’re you pretending about?”

“Oh… just that everything’s okay, that Pennywise never happened and I don’t have night terrors, that my parents aren’t assholes, that Henry doesn’t make his comments and that I’m not in love with you.  Just tired of keeping up this whole perfect girl act in general” You were staring off at the wall, while RIchie was staring hard at you, his lips parted in surprise at what you’d said.  His hand stopped moving, his body completely frozen.

“What?” He whispered.  You yawned, covering a hand over your mouth before flicking your eyes up to his.  “Princess, did you just… did you say that…”

“Hm?” You hummed nonchalantly.  “I trust you, who’re you gonna tell?” You shrugged.  “Just don’t tell Richie!” You said, hand grabbing is arm and looking up at him nervously.  “He’d just-! He’d… well he wouldn’t be happy”

“Why not?” He asked, hand rubbing your arm again.

“Well he… he doesn’t like girls like me.  And we’ve been friends for years so… well it just wouldn’t work” Richie smiled to himself.

“I think you’d be surprised, princess” He hummed.  You stared up at him with round eyes, and he gave you a smile.  “Okay, it’s getting late now and I don’t want to keep you up.  You should go to sleep”

“Okay” You whispered, getting comfortable in the blankets and Richie fixed up your pillow for you.  “Goodnight” Your voice came out in a mere breath as your body began to shut down.

“Goodnight beautiful” The trashmouth said softly, and reluctantly got off the bed.  Just to sit in the old, and heavily worn down recliner chair.  “Sleep well” He said, before his own eyelids fell heavily.

He woke up when he heard rustling and groaning, mostly noticing the quiet, “Oh fuck… damnit… ah shit… goddamnit”  He peeked his eyes open to see the room was blurry.  He squinted but when he moved to search for his glasses, they were already on his lap.  They must’ve fallen off when he passed out last night.

“n/n?” He called.

“Shit Richie my head hurts” You cried painfully.  Richie put his glasses on and rushed out of the room. He came back just a few minutes later, a glass of water and a handful of aspirins in his hands.  You smiled as he handed you two of the pills, then the water.

“Drink that whole thing, every drop” He ordered, but kept his voice quiet so he wouldn’t disturb your head further.  A whine left your throat but you tried not to complain.  

You didn’t want to annoy Richie any more than you probably already have.  You were certain that last night you were not a pleasant friend to have around.  Besides the fact he had to take you back to his place, probably while you were disgusting and doing god knows what.  And he was stuck sleeping on a chair all night.

“Rich I’m sorry about last night, I hope I wasn’t awful” You said, eyes narrowing as the sunlight hurt to keep them open.

“No not at all.  The opposite of awful” He told you.

“Did I puke?” You asked, quietly, like you were ashamed of it.  RIchie chuckled and shook his head.

“No babe, really, it was fine” He assured you, adjusting his own jacket on your shoulders.  “I felt bad anyways, I knew you’d hurt this morning and,” He sighed, gesturing to yourself instead of finishing his sentence.  “Anyways, I’m going to go make breakfast, you hungry? Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you” You told him with a weak smile, and finished off the glass of water.

“You sure? I could go pick something up too if you’d rather, but I don’t mind making anything if you’re in the mood for anything specific” He went on, and you smiled to yourself as you put the glass on the bedside table, only for Richie to grab it.

“I’m really alright, Rich.  Thank you” You said, squeezing your hand around his wrist.  “You’re going soft” You mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Psh” RIchie scoffed and shook his head.  “I think not” He said, heading towards the door.  You shifted awkwardly as he was about to leave the room, then followed after him.

“I think you are” You said, stumbling on your own feet but catching yourself.

“Did you just fall?” RIchie asked, turning and putting a hand on your arm to steady your balance.  You would’ve swooned if you didn’t laugh quietly.

“You’re going soft, Tozier” You told him, before descending the stairs.  Stuffing your hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt.

Richie huffed, throwing his head back as you went off somewhere on the first floor.  “Only for you sweetheart” He sighed, and followed down after you.

You both had a bowl of cereal, Richie being nervous that you wouldn’t keep anything else down very well.  You rolling your eyes at him as you tipped the bowl back to drink the leftover milk.  Refraining from making another comment about his softness.

Not that you were complaining, you were loving this from him.  The tenderness he now seemed to have with you.  And you noticed, it was just you.

Through the rest of the weekend he babied you like crazy, wrapping blankets around you making sure you finished your work and showered and took your medicine, everything from a to z.  He did it, and he did it well.

You found yourself falling more in love with him than you already were.

Monday morning rolled around all to quickly though, and when you dragged your feet out the door to where Richie was waiting, in your car, you scrunched up your face.

“Are you driving my car?” You asked, mind totally jumbled as to how he’d even gotten your keys.

“Yeah, you left it at Jess’s, so I got your keys Saturday night and got it back last night” You nodded, recalling now that you hadn’t driven since Saturday.

“Oh yeah” You said, buckling in and getting adjusted.  Still wondering what had happened after you’d walked into the party that night.  “I guess I’m glad it wasn’t stolen or anything.  And doesn’t have some obscene carving from Henry Bowers” You added with a chuckle.  Richie made a sound of disgust as he backed out of your drive and headed towards the school.  “What?”

“Nothing, we just got in another dispute Saturday” He shrugged it off, but you looked at him with worry.

“Did you get into a fight?” You asked him, not having seen any bruises like he usually wore after a few rounds with the older kid.

“Fuck no, he was holding onto you and I don’t fucking know what he would’ve done if I started swinging so I just yanked you back and got the fuck our of there” He said.  Your lips pursed, not having remembered Henry taking possession of you.

“He didn’t… he didn’t like… do anything… right?” You whispered, afraid to know the answer.

“Hell no he didn’t!” Richie called, suddenly turning sharply onto another road.  Aggression coursing through his veins.  “His ass would be grass, he’d be fucking rotting in a ditch somewhere right now if he had” He began grumbling angrily, and you reaching a hand out to his shoulder to stop him.

“Richie, stop, I believe you.  If nothing happened, then nothing happened.  I’m fine” You assured softly.  He sighed, glancing over at you before his hands eased on the steering wheel.  No longer gripping it so tightly.

“I’m calm” He said after a minute.  “It’s just a lot happened that night.  I was worried about you for a while there” He said.

“What happened?” You pondered.

“After we got you home, you just seemed really depressed.  I don’t think you realized I was the one with you”

You rubbed your eyes with your fists, under the illusion it’d help you remember better.  All you could come up with was a warm sweatshirt, and the smell of liquor on your own breath.

“We?” You asked him, having caught the nonsingular word slip.

“Yeah… I called Eddie to come pick us up.  I didn’t trust myself to drive, I’d had a drink too, and you’d had… I don’t even know how much you had” He said.  You shrugged, not having known that answer either.

“Eddie picked us up?” You smiled, and Richie nodded.  “Was he… how was he?” RIchie thought for a moment on how to respond, knowing you cared more about that than he had.  Richie had only cared about getting you home.

“He was happy that you were safe” He finally told you, which was the truth.  “And he wanted you to know he’s always there for you too” You nodded, content with his response.

“Thank you” You told him suddenly.  “I don’t think I told you that yet” You eyes wandered out the window, sighing as Richie pulled into the school’s parking lot.  Nerves settled in your stomach at the thought that you probably did something stupid and now everyone would know.

“You don’t have to thank me.  What was I going to do? Leave you there? Fuck no” You chuckled, smiling over at him.

“Alright, I won’t thank you then” You chuckled softly and gathered up your things as he parked.

“I appreciate that babe” He said, shooting you a wink, and tossing you your keys.  You caught them with an awkward fumble before stuffing them into a pocket of your backpack.

The both of you walked into school together, both feeling uneasy about the day ahead of them.  Richie more so than you, but you didn’t know what had happened the way he did.  He noticed instantaneously the whispers, the odd looks and side glances.  You didn’t seem to pick up on it, so he just directed you towards your locker as quickly as he could manage.

“So uh you have US History first period right?” He asked as you twisted in your combination.

“Yep, but I’ll see you second for Calc” You replied with a short smile towards him.  Richie returned it, but it was nervous and shaky.

“Oh my God I can’t believe she even came to school”

“I know right? I figure she’d still be hungover or something”

Richie turned sharply to the two girls strutting past, having heard their whispers, he pushed his glasses up and glared them down.

“You have something you want to fucking say Miss I-had-a-baby-last-summer?” He sneered.  You jerked your head up in surprise as to why he suddenly yelled out to Sofia Hasen, who had only been walking by.  The girl scoffed, pushing her long curly hair behind her sassily and turning to him in her heel.

“Ya betta’ watch ya’self Toziah” She said, in that voice that made you cringe on the inside.  The girl snapped her gum and glared at him.  “I’m only sayin’ what I thought was ta’ be true”

“Uh huh, fucking walk on you leftover pile of AIDs” Richie retorted, stepping towards her threateningly.  You knew Richie, and you knew that while he had his rough edges when it comes to fighting, he would never hit a girl.  But right now, the fire in his eyes sure made it seem to you that he was ready to rip out those fake extensions.

“Rich” You murmured, putting a hand on his arm and staring at him with worry creasing your forehead.  He looked at you for a moment, then back at Sofia.

“Just go fuck with somebody else if I hear your voice again, I might fucking kill myself” She scoffed, but walked off without another word.  “Thank fucking God” He mumbled, feeling full of relief right up until you slapped his arm with your once gentle hand.

“What the hell Richie are you looking to pick a fight?” You scolded him, grabbing your history textbook and slamming your locker.

“She was talking shit I wasn’t gonna just fucking let her!” He replied, leaning over you.  His curls bouncing as his body moved erratically.

“Richie what for fuck’s sake are you talking about?” You sighed, crossing your arms as you shook your head.  He was making absolutely no sense, acting out strangely, and it threw you off.  Not two days ago he was warming you up when you were already content, speaking gently and being an all around sweetheart.  Now he was being an aggressive asshole.

“You… I’m talking about you y/n” He said weakly.  Your lips parted slightly, brows drawn together with shock, and confusion.  Richie hung his head.

“No, not you” You whispered.  “They.  They were talking about me” You said, expression void of any emotion.  “What the hell happened on Saturday Richie?” You asked blankly.

“Nothing crazy… nothing crazy bad” He said.  “You just danced around… on a table” Your jaw fell completely open now, eyes full of shame but also anger.

“Are you shitting me?” You said, and for a moment he thought you were angry with him.  But when you ran your hands through your hair and your eyes filled with tears, he realized you’d directed that anger on yourself.

“No, no y/n hey” He whispered, holding your small wrists in his hands and trying to meet your eyes.  “Listen, it’s alright, everyone gets drunk and does and says things they don’t mean…” He trailed off, remembering what you had said to him in private later that night.

“Said? What’d I say?” You asked, anxiety bubbling up and you could almost physically feel it spreading from your chest all through your body.

Richie opened his mouth to speak, not even knowing what he was going to tell you, but was cut off by the bell ringing.

“We’ll talk later, I promise, okay?” He said, rubbing his palm over your arm.  “Let’s just get through the day and later we can chill out and talk” You sighed, but nodded.  Richie gave you a small smile before pulling you into a hug.

Hugs weren’t new, but it’d been a while, and for the few seconds you were wrapped in his arms, all of the crippling anxiety seemed miles away from you.  But as soon as he let go, you felt it creep back in.

“I’ll see you later babe” He said, earning a small nod from you, then walked off.

For the rest of your day, you noticed every whisper, and every look.  And for most of it, you were completely alone.

“I think I’ll never drink again” You sighed out to Richie, dropping your backpack on the floor by your bed and flopping face first into the covers.

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep” He chuckled, sitting on the edge of your mattress while you whined into your blankets.  “This is all going to blow over, and something else interesting will take over the gossip in the halls.  Who gives a shit about a drunk girl? There’s tons of drunk girls” He shrugged his shoulders but you didn’t move.  “n/n, really, you barely even talked until it was just us.  And I thought it was hilarious”

“I’m a laughing stock!” You wailed, rolling onto your back and waving your arms in the air.

“No, you’re really not” He said, though he chuckled at your movements.  “Really, you’re a sweet drunk.  A sad one too, but you were sweet”

“I’ve never even heard of a sweet drunk” You grumbled.

“Well if anyone would be, it’s you.  You were all cuddly and very… kind”

“Kind?”

“Yeah, you called me beautiful and would not stop snuggling on me on the way home” Richie recalled with a good laugh.

“Oh my god” You covered your face with your hands.

“Oh it was great” Richie said between his small bursts of laughter.  “Drunk you was in love with me, she told me so too.  Then she passed out” He shook his head, eyes getting wet as he laughed and smiled so hard his face hurt.  A true, genuine smile at hearing that slipped confession.

You sat up, sitting next to him now and staring at him seriously.

“What?” You murmured.

“What?” He repeated, unsure of what you were questioning.

“I told you that I loved you?” You asked, and he nodded and shrugged, not seeing the huge deal.  You were drunk, and of course you loved him, he was your best friend.

“Yeah, why?” Richie asked, shaking his head in confusion.  “It’s no big deal n/n, I love you too, you know that” He shrugged.  “We’re best friends”  It was quiet, with you still looking at him but much more saddened.

After years, you’d confessed unconsciously, and he didn’t even take it seriously.

“Richie, drunk me isn’t the only time I’m in love with you” You told him, nerves causing butterflies to flutter in your heart.  The boy chuckled, but you shook your head, covering his hand that was keeping him steady on the bed in yours.  “Rich I’m serious” You whispered, scared that he didn’t return the same kind of love you held for him.  His expression straightened, staring at you with shock, eyes scanning every part of your expression, like maybe you were playing some awful joke.  “I’m not talking about friendship-love of anything else I’m talking about actual, real-”

Richie leaned forward, holding your cheek in his palm and captured your lips with his.  You almost sighed but kept it inside, leaning into him and wrapping both of your arms around his neck.  Just as you broke for a quick breath of air your lips crashed together again.  Like they were magnets to close to not meet.  He was soft, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his other hand on your waist and drawing you impossibly closer.  Your eyes screwed shut, giving him one last little kiss, and drawing back slowly.  Reluctantly.

Neither of you let go of each other, just sat there for a moment and stared.

“You haven’t smoked in a while” You whispered, and a small smile tugged on Richie’s lips as he looked down at you.

“Yeah, you told me you hate the smell” He replied.  Your own lips mimicked his as you shook your head just slightly.  Your fingers moving to brush the long curls that hung over his face away from his eyes.  “I love you too y/n… and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you a long time ago” He told you, and you hugged him tightly.  Richie’s arms completely encircled your waist as he held you.  “I should’ve told you a long time ago” He added.

“Yeah well… I should have too, ya softie” He chuckled, pressing his nose against your temple as he whispered in your ear.

“If you tell anyone I’ve got a soft spot for you, I’ll smoke in your room, in your car, and everywhere you go” You giggled at the empty threat.

“Oh yeah?” You mused,and he planted a kiss on your pinkening cheek.  “Good job getting out a whole sentence without a single cuss by the way” You told him.  Richie’s face gaped, surprised himself.

“Wow” He whispered to himself.  “You my dear, are a Christmas miracle!” You laughed and shook your head.

“Richie, it’s June”

“Alright then you’re just a miracle” He said, and you laughed again.

“As are you Richard Tozier”

ok but finn sorta lookin like a grown ass man in that gif up there ??? he just gorgeous

xoxo ~ jordie