#Pop-Up Brighton
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rowanhoney · 2 years ago
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Different parts of the uk are soooo coded by their music scenes, makes it easier to pick where to live based on vibes
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doyoulikethissong-poll · 5 months ago
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ABBA - Waterloo 1974
"Waterloo" is a song by Swedish pop group ABBA, with music composed by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus and lyrics written by Stikkan Anderson. It is first single of the group's second studio album of the same name, and their first under the Atlantic label in the US. This was also the first single to be credited to the group performing under the name ABBA. The title and lyrics reference the 1815 Battle of Waterloo, and use it as a metaphor for a romantic relationship.
In 1974, "Waterloo" represented Sweden in the 19th edition of the Eurovision Song Contest held in Brighton, winning the contest and beginning ABBA's path to worldwide fame. The song differed from the standard "dramatic ballad" tradition at the contest by its flavour and rhythm, as well as by its performance. ABBA gave the audience something that had rarely been seen before in Eurovision: flashy costumes (including silver platform boots), a catchy uptempo song and simple choreography. It was the first winning entry in a language other than that of their home country; prior to 1973, all Eurovision singers had been required to sing in their country's native tongue, a restriction that was lifted briefly for the contests between 1973 and 1976 (thus allowing "Waterloo" to be sung in English), then reinstated before ultimately being removed again in 1999. Watch the performance in Swedish here. Sveriges Radio released a promo video for "Waterloo" that was directed by film director Lasse Hallström, whose first notable English-language film success was What's Eating Gilbert Grape in 1993. ABBA recorded the German and French versions of "Waterloo" in March and April 1974; the French version was adapted by Alain Boublil, who would later go on to co-write the 1980 musical Les Misérables.
The song shot to number 1 in the UK and stayed there for two weeks, becoming the first of the band's nine UK number 1's, and the 16th biggest selling single of the year in the UK. It also topped the charts in Belgium, Denmark, Finland, West Germany, Ireland, Norway, and Switzerland, while reaching the Top 3 in Austria, France, the Netherlands, Spain, and Sweden. Unlike other Eurovision-winning tunes, the song's appeal transcended Europe: "Waterloo" also topped the charts in South Africa, and reached the Top 10 in Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Rhodesia, and the US (peaking at number 6, their third-highest-charting US hit after number 1 "Dancing Queen" and number 3 "Take a Chance on Me"). In 2005, at Eurovision fiftieth anniversary competition Congratulations: 50 Years of the Eurovision Song Contest, "Waterloo" was chosen as the best song in the contest's history.
"Waterloo" is featured in the encore of the musical Mamma Mia!. The song does not have a context or a meaning. It is just performed as a musical number in which members of the audience are encouraged to get up off their seats and sing, dance and clap along. The song is performed by the cast over the closing credits of the film Mamma Mia!, but is not featured on the official soundtrack. It is also performed as part of the story in the sequel, Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, by Hugh Skinner and Lily James.
The Australian film Muriel's Wedding (1994), features "Waterloo" in a pivotal scene in which lead Toni Collette bonds with the character played by Rachel Griffiths. The film's soundtrack, featuring five ABBA tracks, is widely regarded as having helped to fuel the revival of popular interest in ABBA's music in the mid-1990s. "Waterloo" features prominently in the 2015 science-fiction film The Martian. The song plays as the film's lead, played by Matt Damon, works to ready his launch vehicle for a last-chance escape from Mars. In "Mother Simpson", the eighth episode of the seventh season of The Simpsons, Mr. Burns plays "Ride of the Valkyries" from a tank about to storm the Simpson home, but the song is cut-off and "Waterloo" is played, to which Smithers apologizes, advising he "must have accidentally taped over that".
"Waterloo" received a total of 89% yes votes!
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(the video is posted by ABBA's own account, not Eurovision's = safe to watch)
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repulsiveliquidation · 1 year ago
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Chosen Family
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Leah Williamson x Reader x Arsenal Women.
word count : 2.8k
this was meant to be a blurb but oh well
warnings : mentions of death, swearing, it's kinda sweet...?
“While we have valued your skill addition to the team, we cannot find any reason to retain you and that it why we are terminating your contract, effective immediately; other teams will bid for your purchase by the end of the month.”
That was the last thing that you heard until you stopped listening. The room began to feel small. It was spinning, your head just immediately began to throb. Combined with the need to throw up was the cherry on top. You blinked at your agent, who was stone-faced but determined to fight for you, in a plea to let you leave. He nodded and leaned in to talk to you. “Go, kiddo. Find the girls, I’ll sort this out.”
You scramble out of the room, not caring what the board thinks. You run; fast. Tears are cascading down your face, hot and frustrated ones. Your legs knew where to run, where to find your beloved girls.
//
19 and fresh out of your first senior Lionesses call up, was a day you didn’t think would come. You were on the plane back home from the 2023 World Cup a little gloomy; a text from Leah changed the whole day around for you. It was a simple one, curt and just what you expected from the North London girl.
“Welcome to Arsenal.”
You were playing for Brighton Albion right now, while you loved it there, Arsenal was your well-known dream. Going through the academy was the best thing that ever happened to you but when you didn’t get moved up to the first team and instead bought by Brighton, you immediately made it known that if ever they were interested, you’d even transfer for free (your agent did NOT like that.)
The girls cheered and clapped, celebrations were in order for the youngest Lioness. They popped champagne (you sneaked a flute, Alessia winked at you), food was eaten with more enthusiasm.
When you stepped on that pitch for the first time as part of the First Team, you cried. Leah made fun of you for a week but you didn’t care. Your dream was now your reality. You made it. Your parents passed away when you were 14 from a car accident, they were both die hard Arsenal fans, it was your fathers dream to see you in an Arsenal shirt with your last name on the back. You were at this facility that day, that day was the hardest day of your life. Today came a close second.
//
“I’m sorry daddy.” You whisper, fresh tears pricking in your eyes. You push open the changing room door and walk in, the girls immediately quieten down when they see your tear-stained face.
“You’ve only been gone a half hour, you miss us that much?” Leah jumps up enthusiastically and walks over to you to pull you into the changing room.
“Leah, shut up. What’s wrong, kleintje?” Viv asks, pulling you into her arms. Everyone’s mood changes when they realize they’re sad tears.
“They’re getting rid of me.” You say quietly, muffled into Viv’s chest. She kisses the top of your head, rare affection from the Dutchwoman, before pulling your head away from her chest.
“Say again for me love?”
“They’re selling me, they fired me.”
“They can’t do that.”
“They just did.”
You’re crying again, now passed to Beth’s arms as Viv, Leah, Alessia, Katie, Lotte and Stina begin to march out of the room angrily. You beg them not to, crumbling to your knees.
“Please, you shouldn't have to fight for me. They’re just throwing me away…I-I thought I was good enough to b-be on the team! Like a fucking whore, sold to the highest bidder!” you’re heaving, their eyes soften and they rush to you; Leah getting to you first. She kneels before you and pulls you into her arms, cradling your crying head against her chest.
“Hey, stop that. They’re not selling you, we will make sure of it. They can’t, not like this.”
“What if you can’t? What if you can’t stop them?”
“We never play football again, darling. It’s that simple.” Piped in Alessia, anger seething behind her eyes.
“I couldn’t make you all do that.”
“Watch us. Every single one of us. I might bleed North London but no one treats my family this way. You’re our baby, no one messes with this family.” Leah said, everyone in the room nodding their heads in agreement.
“What did your agent say, darlin’?” asked Katie, coming up beside you to rub your back just as your agent walked in.
“You can ask him.”
“Cut the shit, Tony. What did they say?” Leah pounced on him, he only shook his head slowly.
“I told them that the transfer window was long closed. Turns out that that doesn’t really matter when you fire a player; they’re just sold like any other player that can be sold. I know you girls are mad for her; please don’t do anything stupid like all quit football altogether.”
“How the hell did you figure that out?”
“I’m an agent for a reason. I’m also her guardian, I know you lot well enough to know you’d do something like that for my Y/N.”
“Why the fuck are they selling our best forward then?”
“I don’t know. I’ll be damned if I don’t find out.” He walked over to you, the girls help you stand.
“I will not stop until I find out why, kiddo. I promised your father I would take care of you, I intend to do that. Do you trust me?”
“With my life, Tones.”
“Atta girl, I know you’ll be in good hands with these girls. I’m sorry, but training will have to be at home till I can find out why you’re out of a fucking job. I love you, Martha wants you over for dinner on Saturday; bring her some of your cookies will you? You lot are invited if you’re interested.” he kisses your forehead and walks out of the room, already calling people on the phone.
“Come on baby, let’s get you home.” Beth cooed, Viv immediately grabbing all your things from your cubby. 
“Pack her a bag and take her to mine, she stays with me till this is over.” Leah tells the two, they nod and usher you out before you can make any form of protest.
The drive to your apartment was a quiet one, Beth sat in the back with you while Viv drove. You could tell she was mad, her jaw clenched as she was mumbling under her breath. You reached over an arm and grasped her shoulder, she visibly relaxed and looked at you through the rear-view mirror.
“We’ll figure this out, lieveling. Don’t you worry.”
//
Arsenal Women look to sell Y/N L/N to the highest bidder in a sudden dropping of her from the squad. Teams like Manchester United and Bayern Munich are among those highly interested in the prodigy forward from North London.
//
“Hi angel, the guest room is all set for ya. You’re welcome in my bed if you’d rather; fair warning, I am a snorer.” Leah winked at you, helping you take your bags into the house.
“I know you do, Kiera told me at camp one time.”
“That sneaky woman. I’ll be having a word with her, pet. Come on in, make yourself at home. The rest of the girls are on the balcony, they really invited themselves over you know; how rude, coming into our home like that!”
Our home, she said. You really didn’t need to worry with these girls, they’ve got your back.
//
Leah had to drag you to training although technically you couldn’t participate. It made your heart ache, being there but not being able to play. Jonas shot you a sorry look, allowing you to steal a football and kick it around on your own. The girls were all feeling sorry for you, one of them always coming over to check on you each hour.
Lotte walked over after their 6 a side scrimmage, spraying you with her water bottle before you shot up and chased her around the pitch.
You finally caught her, cursing her long legs. She merely side hugged you, kissing your warm, sweaty forehead.
“That take your mind off things for a bit, little bit?” she asked, her choice in nickname made you smile.
“It did, thanks Lotte.” You lean into her and say, both of you watching Katie spray her water bottle at Beth and before you knew it everyone was doing the same. It made you heartily laugh, all the girls more than happy to get their shirts soaked if it meant little bit was smiling for just a little bit.
//
“I’m afraid I can’t let you in here, Ms. L/N.”
“She’s with me, Ben.”
“I’m sorry Leah, she can’t be on the training pitch. Boss’ orders.”
“Well, she’s coming with me and we’re going to see about that. Come, Y/N.”
You trail behind Leah as she walks with determination to Jonas’ office. He’s in a meeting, she simply does not care.
“I’d like to know why she can’t come to the training ground and whose idea was it to do so.”
“It came from upstairs Leah, it was on my table this morning. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t even try to do anything about it? She’s still a part of this team!”
“I’m sorry Leah, she isn’t. She can’t be here.”
“Go downstairs and put your boots on, Y/N. Un-FUCKING-believable.”
“Leah, I’ll just get an Uber and g­–”
“I said, go downstairs and put your fucking boots on. Now.”
You walk out of the room and do as she says. She comes back out to the pitch 20 minutes later with huge smile on her face, winking at you.
“All sorted darling, nothing to worry about. Sorry if I scared you.”
You run and hug her, she merely smiles wider and kisses your head.
“Thank you Leah,” you whisper, only meant for her to hear.
“Anything for you, my love.”
//
“What are we feeling for dinner, darling?” Beth called as you were sitting in their living room playing Fifa.
“I don’t care, but a pizza sounds fucking delicious right now.”
“Language! Leah is a horrendous influence on you. Sausage and banana peppers?”
“Sorry, mum. Yes please.”
Beth walked in and rolled her eyes, picking up the takeaway menu stack near the tv.
“What is this that I hear that I’m a bad influence?”
“Leah!” you yelled, jumping up from the couch and jumping into her arms. You had grown quite attached to the older woman, her fierce protective nature from the start of your journey of international football along with the move to Arsenal had made you fall in love with her. It was a secret you were willing to take to the grave if you got to enjoy her and not risk losing her.
It had more to do with the age gap, it wasn’t monstrously large but it would turn heads either way with you being a teenager still. You turn twenty in less than a week anyway, maybe if you could muster up the courage you’d tell her.
“Hello, pea. Beth bullying ya?”
“No, she said my swearing is because of you. But we’re getting pizza!”
“That sounds lovely, angel. I love pizza, pizza loves me. Wanna see if you can beat me at a game while we wait?” she says, pointing to the paused football match on the tv.
“What’s in it for me?” you tell her cheekily, grabbing a second controller for her.
“You’ll have to beat me to find out, doll.”
Viv walked in, standing with Beth as they watched the two of you playing.
“So, who’s gonna tell them?” Viv asks bluntly.
“They’re right knobheads the pair of them. It could be written on their foreheads and they’d miss it.”
//
You were more than happy to have a little cake and a song for your birthday. Years without parents who died around your birthday made it a sore subject. Tony and Martha made it better though, both of them really did try their best to make sure you were well cared for and for that you were forever grateful. No one texted you all day though, you’ll be honest, it made you a little sadder. You were just about order some takeout when Leah walked into the house with balloons, cake, the girls, and much more. Katie led the chorus for ‘Happy Birthday’ so offkey you were sure your ears were genuinely bleeding. She pulled a party hat on your head and kissed your forehead, holding your face in her hands and she whispered, “Happy Birthday, little bit.”
You were crying, touched by their kind gesture. Only Leah knew the extent of why birthdays were a little sore for you, a proud smile on her face as the rest of the girls busied themselves with laying out the food and putting the decorations up. She smiled at you, eyes full of love like you were the only one in the room.
She walked up to you with the cake as Stina lit the candle, her bright smile on her face.
“Make a wish, pretty girl.” She said, you closed your eyes and made your wish. You blew out the candle; the cake was handed off to Viv.  
She pulled you into her arms, kissing your nose. She had that same look of pure adoration on her face; you were scared of asking the question itching on the tip of your tongue. Luckily, Leah asked it for you.
“Happy birthday, special girl. Can I take you out on a date sometime?”
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to ask you that.”
“No time like the present, kiddo.”
She leaned in and kissed you softly, your lips molding perfectly to hers. The room cheered loudly, Beth yelling at the top of her lungs while Viv looked like a proud parent.
//
“Did your uncle ever mention that he was suing the guy who got into that accident with your parents?”
“No, I thought they didn’t know who it was.”
“Well, they do. He knows you too.”
“How the hell could he know me.”
“He’s the scumbag who hired you then fired you.”
“What are you saying, Tones?”
“When the lawsuit came in and the names were revealed he realized that someone leaked the information he tried so hard to keep buried and your name was in there. He thought you figured it out and were coming after him through your uncle. So, he fired you. Probably thought that would send a clear message that he could ruin you.”
“Tony, this is a lot to take in.”
“I know, kid. You leave it to me, you hear? Especially leave your new girlfriend out of it. She’s great but fucking scary.”
“Tony, it’s on speaker!”
“I know where you sleep Tony.” Leah supplied happily.
“Shit. Please kid, between the two of you only yeah? I love you.”
“I love you too, Tones. Send Martha my love.”
“Sure thing. Be safe, please?”
Click.
“What the hell am I going to do, Lee?”
“We’re gonna fight baby. Every single one of us. We got ya.”
“Tony literally just told you, you couldn’t kill the guy.”
“I will if I have to, you’re my girl now. You’ve always been my girl but now circumstances have changed. I know a guy who knows a guy; I’ll do it with my bare hands if I had to.”
“Tony was right, you are mad scary.”
//
Arsenal Board member sentenced to 10 years in prison for countless charges. The Plaintiff, Y/N L/N was rewarded with an undisclosed settlement for damages that caused the death of her parents 6 years ago, which turned out to be a massive coverup. Her position as forward on the Arsenal Women’s team had been reinstated effective immediately.
//
“We did it, little bit.” Lotte hugged you, the rest of the girls filtering into your home. Okay, it was Leah’s and she did just ask you to move in with her but it was nice to have someone to share a home with.
“I’m so proud of you, kid.” said Katie.
“You’re stronger than you look, Y/N/N.” said Stina.
“I have pictures of you on the stand!” said Alessia.
Their words were drowned out by the sound of a certain blonde and blue eyed, Milton Keynes accented, Lioness captain that was praising you.
“You did perfectly today, pea.”
“Thanks Lee. I couldn’t have done it without you. All of you.” You turn and face all the girls and continue.
“Without you all, I don’t think I would have been able to get through the past few weeks. You’ve all shown me what real family looks like and I can’t thank you enough. I love you all from the bottom of my heart.” You were crying, wiping away tears before Alessia yelled “Group hug!” and you were wrapped up in many arms.
Once they let go, Leah came up behind you and kissed your cheek. You lean back into her, rubbing her strong arms that were around you.
“Thank you Leah, for everything.”
“Anything for you, my love.”
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Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 14
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Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?
Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)
Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁
Chapter Warnings: Implied smut, angst, attempted sexual assault - it's stopped, but there is non-consensual kissing and fondling. Misogyny and violence.
Word Count: 5,115
A/N: Here's Ch. 14, the penultimate chapter! I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️
Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists
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Dean bounded up the stairs leading to his front door, two at a time. He needed to get in and out quickly. He was already running behind and he didn’t need to be waylaid by his family. He just needed to change for the show before going to pick up Y/N. He had a lot of clothes stashed away in her hotel wardrobe, but not his tuxedo. 
Just the thought of Y/N made anger churn in his stomach again, but he pushed it aside. Thoughts of her had kept him distracted all afternoon, and it was affecting his work. 
It was pointless to be angry, anyway; it didn’t matter enough to be angry. There had always been a fifty-fifty chance of her staying or going. Sure, maybe her decision to let him bed her the night before had confirmed for him that she meant to stay, but she obviously didn’t see it that way. 
So that was the end of it.
He walked carefully through his front door, happy to find his home quiet; no one was around as he crossed the foyer to the wide staircase that led up to his bedroom. When he was halfway up, however, he heard Jessica call to him from the bottom.
“Dean! You’re here.”
He sighed. “Evidently.” He said as he stopped and turned back, trying for a smile as she climbed the staircase to join him.
“Why are you here?”
“Well, I do believe I live here.” He said sardonically. 
She cocked her head and gave him a look that said she didn’t think he was funny. “You know what I mean. You’ve barely been around since we’ve been here. Or should I say,” she raised an eyebrow, “since Y/N’s been here.”
Dean gritted his teeth. “I’ve been busy with work. Which is why I’ve gotta get going now.” He pointed upstairs. “I’m late.”
Jessica frowned. “You’re late for work at,” she checked the grandfather clock on the landing. “at seven thirty in the evening?”
Dean sighed. “I’m taking potential business partners to The Manhattan, the vaudeville theater, for a show tonight. I’m just here to get dressed.” 
He’d invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton, the owner of Clearwater Pulp and Paper to come to the show with them. He refused to believe the small voice in the back of his mind that told him he only did it so he wouldn’t be alone with Y/N all evening. He’d simply done it as an apology for being utterly distracted in their meetings earlier that afternoon.
He turned away from Jessica to start up the stairs again, but she reached out to grab his wrist. 
“Wait. I…I wanted to talk to you.”
Dean sighed. “Sure. What is it?”
Jessica let go of his wrist to cross her arms over her waist, stepping up one stair so that she was on the same step as Dean, leveling their heights. It wasn’t often that Dean found himself standing nearly eye to eye with a woman, but Jess was very tall. 
Perfect fit for Sam. Dean thought, even as the fierce look in her eye had him bracing for an onslaught.
“I was wondering what…what are your intentions with Y/N?”
Dean frowned darkly. “Excuse me?”
Jessica raised her chin. “You heard me. Y/N is a respectable woman.”
Dean’s voice was low and strained. “Have I ever insinuated that she isn’t?”
Jessica made a scoffing noise. “I know about the offer you made to her, and I believe that it was less than respectable.”
Dean’s jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly as he spoke. “My private affairs are no business of yours.” He said, turning away and starting back up the stairs.
“They are my business when they concern my governess, a respectable young woman that we’ve taken under our wing.” 
She followed him up the stairs to the landing. “Someone we see as family!” She called out to him when he started up the second half of the stairs.
He turned back to her. “Y/N is a grown woman and is quite capable of making her own decisions. In fact, I doubt very much she’d appreciate this little conversation.”
Jessica stomped up the steps after him. “I know for a fact she doesn’t want me to talk to you, because she told me not to. But I thought…” 
She reached his level again and stared at him for a moment. Then her shoulders deflated and she shook her head. “I thought I could get through to you. Make you understand that you’re throwing away a remarkable woman, kind and caring, beautiful, intelligent.”
Dean waved away her words, running up the rest of the stairs. “I’m well aware of Y/N’s attributes, thank you.”
“Then why wouldn’t you marry her? I mean my god, you love each other, that much is obvious, so I simply don’t understand your reasoning.”
Dean went deathly still, alarm bells screaming in his head. The same bells that had been going off for weeks now, maybe longer. 
He looked back at Jessica and knew his anger was obvious. “That is absolutely not true and you have no idea what you’re talking about! I am not ‘in love’ with anyone, and I have absolutely no intention of ever being married!”
He took a breath and attempted to speak calmly, but his voice was still raised. “Now, since you seem to know all about my life anyway, I’ll tell you straight out that Y/N has refused my offer and will be returning home with you in a couple of days. Seems as though continuing on as a ‘respectable woman’ as you put it, has trumped being ‘in love’.” He spat the words out, his stomach bound in knots and the now familiar panic climbing in his chest.
He turned away from her again and Jessica chased after him. “I simply don’t understand you!” She shouted at him. 
He spun back to face her. “You don’t have to understand me! You just have to mind your own damn business and stop-”
“Mommy?”
Lucy’s little voice interrupted Dean and he turned, still breathing heavily, to see Lucy standing in the doorway to her room, rubbing her eyes. She’d obviously already been in bed and their shouting had woken her up.
“What’s wrong?” 
Jessica walked over to pick her up and give her a shaky smile. “Nothing, poppet. Uncle Dean and I were just…talking.”
Lucy pouted. “Loudly.”
Dean reached over to pinch her cheek lightly, trying hard to keep his voice level. “Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve gotta go now anyway, so you go on back to sleep.”
He turned away quickly before Jessica had the chance to say anything more. He tried desperately to erase her words from his mind, but they summed up one of his worst nightmares and he had a hard time wiping them away.
***
Y/N was just starting to wonder whether Dean was simply not going to come, when she saw him appear on the other side of the garden doors, knocking gently.
She stood up from her chair and waved him in. He opened the doors and stepped through, bringing the scent of cold air with him.
He nodded at her and she smiled a false smile.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “I apologize for being late. Work went longer than I expected. But we made a lot of progress. I hope you don't mind but I've invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton to the show with us this evening. Just as a gesture of goodwill while negotiations are being finalized.”
Y/N nodded. “Of course. That's smart.”
He nodded back and an awkward silence sat between them for a few seconds before Dean picked up Y/N’s coat from the chair and held it open for her.
“Well, shall we?”
***
As they jostled along the New York streets, Y/N found herself getting more and more annoyed at the continuing silence between them. If this was how the rest of their time together was going to go, she didn't think she could take it. 
She turned to look at his stiff profile; it was gorgeous like a marble statue, and just as unmoving.
She sighed. “Are we honestly not even going to talk about this?”
She saw his jaw tick. Movement at last! “Talk about what?” He asked, dully.
Y/N refused to answer such a ridiculous and redundant question, merely staring at him until he finally turned his head slightly to look at her briefly before rolling his eyes and looking forward again.
“What is there to talk about, Y/N?”
Y/N barked out a laugh without humor. “A lot, potentially.”
He growled slightly under his breath, and shifted in the seat so his torso faced her. 
“Have you changed your mind? Hmm? Ready to accept my offer after all?”
Y/N's heart squeezed tight and she heard a voice in her mind shout a resounding “Yes!” But she shook her head sadly. 
“No, but-”
“Then that's it, isn't it?! It’s finished. There's nothing else to discuss because we’ve already discussed it. So that's it, and we're done.”
Y/N felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. She knew he was referring to the discussion being over, but the words went much deeper than their current conversation and they both knew it.
She nodded slightly and turned to stare out the front of the carriage again. “Yes, fine.”
A few minutes later, they finally pulled up outside The Manhattan Theater, which was large and impressive. The lobby inside held a glittering chandelier and lively art on the walls; Y/N knew that under better  circumstances she would have been excited and eager to be there. But the world seemed dim now, all of it lacking in color.
Then, afew minutes after arriving, her evening got much worse.
George Taskett was approaching them with a smile, and walking just behind him was Byron Temple; and he was smiling the way an alligator smiles, like he’s just waiting to swallow you whole.
The two men reached them and George held out his hand to Dean. “Good to see you Winchester and thanks again for the tickets. I don't get out very often when we come up to New York, so this is wonderful.”
He patted Byron on the shoulder. “Hope you don't mind, but Mr. Brighton sent word that he'd been called back to the mill on some urgent business and couldn't attend. So, not wanting the ticket to go to waste, I invited Byron along.”
Dean's smile wasn't echoed in his tone.
“Of course not. Good thinking.” He reached out a hand to Temple and the man shook it, his beady blue eyes calculating and cold. 
Dean stepped back and put his hand on Y/N's lower back. “You both remember my companion, Miss Taylor?”
Y/N bowed her head towards the two men. Taskett smiled warmly. “Of course I remember. Couldn't forget such a lovely face.” 
“Indeed.” Byron said, smiling again and making Y/N's skin crawl. “You seem to have bloomed even more since our last meeting.”
Despite everything going on between them, Y/N pressed herself into Dean's side and was immensely grateful when he slipped his hand around the side of her waist to hold her there.
The lobby lights dimmed briefly, letting them know the show was about to start, so they all filed into the theater. George and Byron were sitting a couple of rows behind them, so they parted ways and took their seats, agreeing to meet in the lobby afterwards.
Y/N was very glad to lose Byron Temple's uncomfortable presence. But as she and Dean sat down beside each other, she began to feel the tension grow between them once again. 
The show began, and the first act was a dancing clown who did a lot more prat falling than dancing. Everyone else laughed and clapped at his antics, but even though Y/N clapped along, she couldn't force herself to laugh. 
She smiled politely through the other acts; a man and a dog who performed tricks together, a comedian who told vaguely risque jokes that she wouldn't have understood a few months ago, a male and female dance act who were decidedly better than the clown, and many other interesting acts. Sometimes they were very talented, and sometimes just unusual. 
But Y/N knew that a few days ago she would have loved them all. Now; however, her heart was simply too battered to enjoy any of it.
Then, just before the last act of the evening, Lillian Russell came on stage. Y/N knew her name; she knew she was a singer. But judging by the reaction of the crowd, she realized that she must be an incredibly popular singer. The audience cheered loudly, clapping for a full minute as Miss Russell stood on stage, graciously waving and curtsying to the crowd.
As the cheers finally quieted, the orchestra struck up and the soprano began to sing. Her voice  was rich and sweet - certainly beautiful enough for Y/N to understand the reaction she’d received. She sang three songs, to the thunderous applause of the audience. But as she tried to leave the stage after the third, the crowd cheered for her to sing more. 
Someone near the front shouted, “After the Ball!” And everyone around him picked up the cry, chanting for her to sing the popular song. 
Y/N's stomach clenched as Miss Russell smiled indulgently and held out a hand towards the orchestra. “Alright, just the chorus through twice then, shall we?”
The familiar notes of the waltz began and Y/N felt tears come to her eyes, letting them fall as the soprano's beautiful voice gave heart wrenching power to the melancholic lyrics.
After the ball is over,
After the break of morn—
After the dancers' leaving;
After the stars are gone;
Many a heart is aching,
If you could read them all;
Many the hopes that have vanished,
After the ball.
As the orchestra played the closing notes and the crowd began to clap wildly, Y/N dipped her head towards Dean quickly.
“Excuse me.” She said, rising and making her way to the end of the aisle and then out into the lobby. Those lyrics had felt a little too relatable and the lilting melody brought back the memory of Dean waltzing with her around her hotel room.
Was that really only yesterday morning? Y/N thought. It felt like a lifetime ago.
She quickly made her way to the ladies room, incredibly grateful that it was empty while the rest of the audience watched the end of the show. She sat on one of the padded benches and tried to get ahold of herself. This whole evening had been a mistake. After their disastrous goodbye earlier, Y/N should have begged off.
As it turned out, pretending she was fine when her heart was splintering into tiny pieces was actually remarkably difficult.
After a minute or two, Y/N felt a little more in control, and splashed some cold water on her face at the sink, patting it dry with her handkerchief and then tucking it back in her purse. She took a big breath and walked back through the door, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the man waiting for her just outside.
“I saw you run this way.” Byron Temple said in a dark voice. “I thought I should come make sure you were alright.”
Y/N squeezed her hands into fists, immediately disliking the fact that the ladies room was tucked away under the stairs, hidden from the main lobby. She supposed it was designed to give ladies some privacy, but that was the last thing she wanted right now.
She licked her lips and tried to smile. “That's very kind. But I'm fine, thank you. Just powdering my nose. If you'll excuse me, Dean will be waiting for me.”
She tried to step past him, but he snagged her wrist and pushed her further under the stairs. She tugged against his hold, trying to break it, but he held firm.
“Don't know why you're running back to that bastard. I can see that he's made you cry.” He ran his thumb across her cheek and she slapped his hand away. He merely chuckled. 
“I told you before, pet, to call on me when Winchester sets you aside. And I'm guessing by the tension between you two, and the tears staining your cheeks now, that it's either happened or is just about to happen.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N said in a harsh whisper. “Now unhand me and leave me alone.”
“Don't be like that, pet. I promise that I can offer you a lot more than he can. I'll show you just how a woman like you should be treated.” 
Y/N yanked on her wrist again, speaking quietly but angrily. “You are disgusting and vile and I want nothing to do with you, do you hear me? Now let go of me this instant, or I’ll tell Dean what you've said here and he’ll-”
Byron laughed. “No you won't, and if you did, so what? Do you honestly think he’d care when he’s done with you anyway? Do you really believe he's going to toss away the massive deal that’s been brokered between our companies, a deal that’s been six months in the making - just because I upset his little whore?” 
Y/N clenched her jaw, embarrassment spreading through her at the degrading insult. But she had no doubt of her answer. “Yes. I know he would.”
But Byron ignored her, yanking her up against him and shaking his head. “I think what you really need is a taste of what you're missing out on.”
Before she could even squeal a protest he slammed his mouth over hers, shoving his tongue past her closed lips and making her gag. Acting completely on instinct, Y/N bit down on the slimy muscle invading her mouth, making Byron swear and rip his mouth away from hers. 
She could taste the coppery blood he left behind in her mouth, and then he backhanded her and the sharp taste of her own blood mixed with his.
“Fucking bitch.” He growled at her with quiet rage, pushing her backwards until she was shoved up against the wall. “I would have treated you so nice. But I guess now I have to show you what a real man does with nasty whores.” 
He slammed his hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air and making her panic instantly. He bent his head slightly, attaching his foul mouth to her neck, while his other hand was shoved up her skirts, grabbing at her thigh and pulling at the ties on her drawers as she struggled against him.
Then suddenly he was ripped away from her and she bent double, gasping air into her starved lungs. 
She looked up in time to see Dean smashing his fist into Temple's face, a loud crunch indicating that his nose was now broken. The older man fell to the ground with a howl and Dean immediately jumped on him, pummeling him endlessly with left and right blows, as blood spewed over the marble floor beneath them.
Coming out of her stupor, Y/N ran to Dean, pulling on his arm, just as a crowd began to gather. George Taskett pushed his way through the crowd to pull on Dean’s other arm, just barely managing to pry him off. 
“What on earth is going on here?” He shouted, obviously very confused.
Dean was breathing harshly, and his tuxedo was askew, but otherwise Temple hadn't managed to get in even a single blow.
“I'll tell you what's happening!” Dean shouted. “The goddamn deal is off.”
Both Y/N and George gave Dean wide-eyed, disbelieving looks. 
“Dean, don't.” Y/N said softly, beginning to tremble.
“What are you talking about, Winchester? What has gone on here?” George asked again, looking down at his Vice President laying on the ground as Byron covered his bleeding, broken nose and, horribly, spat out a tooth.
“If you think for one minute I'm going to do business with scum like this, a man so lacking in moralality that he would-,” Dean cut himself off and then waved dismissively at Temple, “well, then you're crazy.”
He grabbed Y/N's hand and quickly hustled her out through the gathered crowd. Y/N looked back helplessly at George Taskett, who seemed to be completely knocked for a loop.
Dean quickly hailed a cab and helped Y/N up into it. “Rialto Hotel, quickly.” He told the driver as he climbed in behind her. The driver clicked his tongue at the horses and they sped away. 
Dean tried to look at her more closely in the dim light of the carriage, pushing her disheveled hair off of her face. But Y/N was shaking too hard now, as the terror of the situation came crashing down upon her. She just shook her head and buried her face in Dean’s chest, weeping uncontrollably now that she was safe.
Dean gave up trying to see her face and just wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He lifted her out of the cab when they arrived, and refused to put her down until they were inside the room.
She stood in the middle of the floor, while he quickly lit all the lamps and closed the curtains. Then he returned to where she stood and gently peeled her coat off of her shoulders. He stayed behind her to take the pins out of her hair, pulling it back off her face while she inhaled deep, shuddery breaths, finally calming down enough to speak softly to him.
“Thank you.”
Dean just shook his head and turned her to face him, moving her into the light a little more and trying once again to see the damage. She watched his face contort with rage all over again as he saw her split lip and the angry bruise she could feel pulsing under the skin of her right cheekbone.
But he gritted his teeth and his voice was gentle as he kissed her forehead. “Just wait here, sweetheart.”
He moved off to the bathroom and she heard him running the bath. Tears began to fall again as he came back and led her into the warmly lit room, filled with the scent of lavender. 
He removed her clothes gently, and then helped her step into the tub. She looked back at him as he held her hand. 
“Will you hold onto me?” 
Dean nodded and stripped away his clothes quickly, stepping in behind her and sitting them both down in the warm, fragrant water.
For a little while he simply held her as she’d asked, pressing soft kisses to her temple and along her hairline. Eventually he took one of the clean cloths and ran it under the cold water tap for a moment before pressing it to the side of her face that was still throbbing.
“Y/N, what happened?” He finally whispered to her.
So she told him. Her voice was quiet and halting at first, but she eventually told him everything, including what had happened at the poker game.
Dean clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me that sooner? I would have ended things with that snake immediately.”
“Exactly.” Y/N said with conviction. “That's why I didn’t tell you. I knew how important that deal was, how hard you'd worked on it, and I didn't want you to have to end it simply because of some insults from a jackass.”
Dean shook his head. “That wasn't something you needed to worry about.”
Y/N shrugged. “Of course it was. It was important to you.”
“Yes, but not more-” Dean cut himself off and Y/N felt him tense before he continued 
 “You should have told me.”
Y/N nodded. “Yes, I should have.”
Dean was quiet for a minute before pulling the cloth away from her cheek and kissing her there gently. “Ready to get out?”
She nodded again and Dean stood up to help her out of the cooling water.
He dried her off and then combed gently through her hair before braiding it, pampering her in much the same way as he had that first night they’d spent in the hotel together. Y/N knew she would have started crying again, if she’d had any tears left to shed. But she'd finally cried herself out and now she was just exhausted. 
Dean tucked her into bed and seemed to hesitate a moment before climbing in after her and pulling her back against his warm chest. Her heart hurt, and her head ached, but despite that, her tired mind slipped, fairly quickly, into a very restless sleep. 
Some time in the middle of the night Y/N woke to find Dean wasn't beside her. She sat up quickly and sighed in relief when she saw him sitting in one of the green chairs. The light in the room was dim, just one lamp burning, and he was cast in shadows.
“What are you doing?” Y/N called to him softly.
Dean got up and came to sit on the bed facing her. “You punched me twice in your sleep, and I thought maybe I was making you have bad dreams, holding you the way I was.”
Y/N shook her head and shuddered. “No. You weren't the bad guy in my dreams.” She whispered.
Dean pushed her braid back off her shoulder. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry I brought him anywhere near your life.”
Y/N frowned. “But it isn't your fault. You couldn't have known. I'm just grateful for the rescue.” She took a deep breath. “You know…he's the reason - one of the reasons - I said no to your offer.”
Dean tensed. “Y/N…”
But she just continued. “Or, well, men just like him. He called me…” The word stuck in her throat and she cleared it. “He called me a whore, you know. And…he wouldn't be the only one. Most of the world would believe the same, if I stayed with you.”
Dean's jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Yes, I understand. And I’m sorry for that. The world can be an ugly, hypocritical place.” 
He licked his lips. “But what I’ve offered you, Y/N, it's…it's all I can offer. I can't…I won't get married, and I won't love you.”
Y/N felt what was left of her heart shatter completely.
Dean spoke softly, shaking his head. “I can't, sweetheart. I won't.” He reiterated before taking a shaky breath. “But you and Jessica are right.”
Y/N frowned, trying hard to keep the ever present tears at bay. “Jessica?”
“Yeah,” he scoffed slightly, “she took me to task earlier tonight. Said I had no right to make an offer like that to a respectable lady.”
He shrugged and one corner of his mouth lifted. “And she was right. You deserve more out of life than to be ostracized by the world. You deserve to get what you always wanted, what you told me you wanted all those months ago.” 
He smiled at her gently and ran his fingers along her jaw. “You deserve contentment, children, a respectable cottage and a…” He paused and cleared his throat, nodding as though he was answering a question in his own mind. “And a compatible husband.” 
Y/N wanted to shout at him that he'd made those things impossible now, that she wouldn’t find contentment without him, that the compatible husband she'd always wanted was sitting right in front of her. 
But she didn't say any of that; he'd made his feelings very clear, and she couldn't fault him for not loving her. It wasn't a given that just because she loved him with every fiber of her being, he was going to love her back.
“I won't love you.”
At least he wasn’t lying to her - trying to hold onto her under false pretenses.
She smiled at him now, through her brokenness. “Yes, I'll hope for those things, I guess. But…” 
She swallowed hard and tugged on his hand. “Will you come back to bed, and do those things you do to me that make me forget everything else? Kiss me until the world fades away to nothing but you and me?”
As he leaned in to claim her mouth in a searing kiss, Dean's bright green eyes glittered like jewels and she knew in that moment, that emeralds would always make her cry.
***
Y/N woke late the next morning and she wasn’t surprised by the empty bed beside her. She'd felt Dean disappear from her before the sun had even broken over the horizon. 
She sat up and saw the note that was tucked under her snow globe on the table. She wrapped the sheet around her and walked over to sit gingerly on the edge of the chair that was closest. She stared down at the folded piece of paper for a couple of minutes before picking it up and unfolding it. 
Dean's neat, bold handwriting took up the whole page.
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Y/N read over the short note several times, hoping to find something more than the words on the page, but that was it.
She folded it back up and let it flutter to the floor as she wound up her snow globe and set it down on the table, staring at it as she rested her chin on her folded arms. For a long time, as her tears flowed silently, she drank in the frozen scene of permanent joy that could never be hers.
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Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:
@lyarr24
@lacilou
@deans-spinster-witch
@globetrotter28
@suckitands33
@alwaystiredandconfused
@evznackles
@jackles010378
@impala67rollingthroughtown
@krazykelly
@candy-coated-misery0731
@envyaurora95
@spnwoman
@deans-baby-momma
@luvr4miya
@arcannaa
@viviwatchestv
@winharry
@ladysparkles78
@kr804573
Dean Fics Only:
@roonthelittlespoon920
@slamminmine
@zepskies
@safiyas-world
@aylacavebear
Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:
@kazsrm67
@slut-for-evans-stan
@sexyvixen7
@nancymcl
@hobby27
@waywardcheshire
Everything Incl. Fan Edits:
@k-slla
@leigh70
@eevvvaa
@kickingitwithkirk
@foxyjwls007
@notinthislife50
@roseblue373
@mishkatelwarriorgoddess
@avanatural
@mrsjenniferwinchester
@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
@deangirl96
@stoneyggirl2
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greyyson-but-no · 1 month ago
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everything wrong with dreams reddit response:
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a slur can only be reclaimed if it starts to be used in a positive light, those are "the rules" he seems to not understand. a perfect example is the word 'queer' used as a slur for gay people but now an umbrella term for gay people if they don't want to be specific. being autistic does not just immediately apologise for using the r slur, especially when you are using it as a derogatory insult. it would have to be slowly integrated back into a large populations vocabulary IN A POSITIVE WAY. in fact, him using it the way he did proves that the relaxing around using terms like that does need to be supervised and probably shouldn't happen at all.
tommyinnit has not posted lies about you my guy (talking as if he's gonna see this is crazy but it's for effect you get me?) he told his side of your relationship over these five years and a lot of the stuff you did was a bit weird man! and proof that it's just not you (because wow! everything's not about you dream!) is the brighton biter (gross but it's necessary) when all the shit came out about him we made him accountable! and majority of his old fans dont support him anymore. the only reason tommy has stayed out of mention brighton biter is because he's shut up and not said a word, whereas you pop up every five minutes to whine about and make yourself out to be the victim just to stay relevant!
tommy is not going around being the "internet police" that's for sure. he's talking about his experiences in his occupation and if terrible ccs are exposed for being terrible ccs through that, then maybe they shouldn't have done what they did?
he says that the worst of the worst dream stans hsge now ended up being tommyinnit fans which is a crazy accusation. the only reason he thinks we're the worst of the worst is because we hold ccs accountable and don't worship the ground they walk on, like seemingly most dream stans. that's not me saying every single tommyinnit fan is perfect, but for the majority, we're not fucking weird like he makes us out to be. the difference between dream and tommy is the fact that he doesn't see us as less than him, whereas dream sees his fans as numbers on a screen and people who worship all he does. it's crazy that that leads to a good relationship between fan and creators (/s). it's not that difficult to do the same.
he is also immediately backing and supporting 1. a guy who covered up an SA case and 2. trump supporter. so, who's the fucking weirdo now? those are literally the worst of the worst, and if dream is openly supporting and backing them, who knows what he actually believes behind the scenes.
"twitter is somehow even less reasonable" YOU SAID A SLUR??? MY BROTHER IN CHRIST.
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bluewinnerangel · 2 years ago
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FITF Tour exit songs
- NA LEG - Uncasville: Tina Turner - The Best
Gilford: The Smiths - This Charming Man
Laval: Petula Clark - Downtown
Toronto: Bryan Adams - Summer Of '69
Cuyahoga Falls: The Verve - Bitter Sweet Symphony
Sterling Heights: Shed Seven - Chasing Rainbows
Cincinnati: The Killers - All These Things That I've Done
Columbus: R.E.M. - The One I Love
Indianapolis: Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart
Maryland Heights (St. Louis): Chuck Berry - Johnny B. Goode
Kansas City: Van Morrison - Moondance
Milwaukee: Johnny Nash - I Can See Clearly Now
Chicago: Earth, Wind & Fire - September
Minneapolis: Sinéad O'Connor - Nothing Compares 2 U
Council Bluffs: Buzzcocks - Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've)
Sioux Falls: Don McLean - American Pie
Seattle: The Smiths - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out
Vancouver: The Police - King Of Pain
Troutdale: Elvis Presley - Always On My Mind
Berkeley: INXS - Never Tear Us Apart
Los Angeles: 2Pac - California Love
Las Vegas: The Killers - Human
Phoenix: Spear Of Destiny - Liberator
Irving: The Doors - Hello, I Love You
Austin: Wheatus - Teenage Dirtbag
Houston The Woodlands: The Police - Walking On The Moon
St. Augustine: The Police - Every Breath You Take
Hollywood: Elton John - Your Song
Tampa: Pat Benatar - Hit Me With Your Best Shot
Atlanta: The Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want
Nashville: Duran Duran - Hold Back The Rain
Charlotte: Lou Reed - Perfect Day
Raleigh: Van Morrison - Moondance
Columbia: Commodores - Easy
Boston 1: Boston - More Than A Feeling
Boston 2: Pixies - Here Comes Your Man
Philadelphia: Sinéad O'Connor - Nothing Compares 2 U
Asbury Park: Bruce Springsteen - Dancing In The Dark
New York: Queen - We Are The Champions (dj elf asked a fan to pick between this one and David Bowie - Heroes)
- EU & UK LEG - Hamburg: Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart
Copenhagen: Queen & David Bowie - Under Pressure
Oslo: Green Day - Wake Me Up When September Ends
Stockholm: The White Stripes - Seven Nation Army
Helsinki: Elvis Presley - Always On My Mind
Tallinn: Smash Mouth - All Star
Riga: AC/DC - Thunderstruck
Kaunas: Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling in Love
Krakow: Iggy Pop - Lust For Life
Łódź: Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop
Vienna: Oasis - Supersonic
Ljubljana: The Killers - Smile Like You Mean It
Budapest: Bloc Party - Helicopter
Bucharest: Foo Fighters - My Hero
Sofia: Rage Against The Machine - Bombtrack
Bilbao: Pixies - Where Is My Mind
Lisbon: White Lies - Farewell to the Fairground
Madrid: Editors - Munich
Barcelona: At the Drive-In - One Armed Scissor
Turin: Lenny Kravitz - Are You Gonna Go My Way
Bologna: Bloc Party - Helicopter
Luxembourg: Pixies - Where Is My Mind
Antwerp: Queens Of The Stone Age - My God Is The Sun
Paris: Biffy Clyro - Bubbles
Amsterdam: Blur - Song 2
Cologne: The Libertines - Can't Stand Me Now
Prague: Jet - Are You Gonna Be My Girl
Berlin: The Cure - Friday I'm in Love
Munich: Fatboy Slim - Praise You
Zurich: The Strokes - Last Nite
Dublin: Inhaler - These Are The Days
Sheffield: The Killers - Mr. Brightside
Manchester: The Smiths - This Charming Man
Glasgow: The Snuts - Gloria
Brighton: Ramones - I Wanna Be Sedated
Cardiff: T. Rex - 20th Century Boy
London: The Libertines - Can't Stand Me Now
Birmingham: Boyz II Men - End Of The Road
- ASIA & AUS LEG - Jakarta: Iggy Pop - Lust For Life
Melbourne: Jet - Are You Gonna Be My Girl
Brisbane: The Temper Trap - Fader
Sydney: Oasis - Rock 'N' Roll Star
- LATAM LEG - Panama: Hard-Fi - Living for the Weekend
San Juan: Pixies - Where Is My Mind
Rio de Janeiro: Nirvana - Heart-Shaped Box
Like last time the plan is to keep editing this post as tour goes on - 2022 LTWT here
Apple music playlist here
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kombuuuu · 2 years ago
Note
yo could you do some domestic spot fluff???? asking for a friend (lie)
Spotty dog?
Spot x Gen!Reader
“This feels demeaning.” “It’s not! Look he’s cute!”
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hes so adorable h my god. 101 dalmatian coded fr
June 28th — Your lovers birthday, and two days away. You woke this morning with a determination you knew both you and him held. To out-do your your last gift. Last Christmas, you had thought you'd won. Showing up to your shared home with a pair of matching shirts — reading "I ♡ My Boyfriend" and one equally matching for him.
Along with a multitude of other small things — all sentimental to your relationship. Like the mug that said "No.1 Bad Guy." or a card detailing how he would never just be the "Villain of the week."
But when he'd pulled out matching crocs, with Jibbitz of a goofy looking Dalmatian for him and a cute Bunny for you?
You had resigned as Loser for the months to come. Not without a cheering victory from your Spotty lover. Now though? A thought had been brewing for months— one that would never make you loser of the gifts ever again. What could possibly out-do a man willing to wear crocs branded with a staple of you on them? And a goofy looking bucket hat with your silly matching shirts?
A dog.
Something he's wanted for a while now, something to take care of. He'd lost everything, his friends, his family. With that much gone, he'd clung to you like a lost child. Mourning the losses he'd faced while cherishing his moments with you — feeling a constant sense of peril when faced with the fact that he *could just lose you too. He wouldn't, though. You would never do that to him. You loved him too dearly to cause him that pain.
You watched him slip on a blue coat over his "totally regular civilian" clothes. The complaint leaving his mouth going on deaf ears. He slipped on his left shoe, jumping a bit and tripping over himself before steadying himself on a coffee table. "Do we really have to go out today?—" His face-spot downturned, like a sad puppy.
",—Can't we just sit in and cuddle? We could watch Mean Girls and i'll make the hot chocolate you really like!" "Baby." He whined, Spot rolling into a displeased frown. "Where are we even—" "—Ask one more time." He snorted, pulling his last shoe on and tucking in the laces, then going up to you and leaning down to give your forehead a kiss. "Ready?"
He right about swooned at your domestic tone, admiring the way the softened gold lights highlighted your features. You were everything to him, and just the knowledge you loved him back had him tripping over himself. Falling through spots at the sight of you. "Yeah."
Jonn swayed as the bus came to a stop, avidly ignoring the curious glances given by other patrons, and focusing more on holding onto you.
"I'm gonna fall over!" "Maybe if you held the bar, and not me." He looked up at you from his waist bent position, arms wrapped securely around your abdomen, clinging onto you like you were the only person there.
"I don't need another lover baby, you're right here." "It's a pole, John." "And I am a faithful man." You giggled lightly at him and wrapped your free arm around him tighter.
"Just step off." "It's high!" John stuttered out his reply, dipping his foot down like he was testing pool water. 'I'll just—" He turned around, opening a spot and crawling through it and popping up again next to you. The bus driver gawked at you, paler than the villain walking Brighton's street.
You mouthed a 'sorry' to the poor lady, and grabbed your boyfriends hand, dragging him towards the street of your subject.
"You gonna tell me where we're going yet?" He trailed behind you, getting pulled by his left hand, and tripping over his own feet. Moving in that clumsy kind of dorkiness. 'Nuh uh."
His spot slanted at you, deadpanning. "You're being mysterious— I don't like it."
You side-eyed him, grinning in a glare. "I think it's part of the charm." He dragged his spindly legs farther forward, stepping in front of you and gathering your joined hand against his chest. He walked backwards with you, and his spot widened again. You smiled up at him, continuing on with walking, and waited for him to complain once more.
You hadn't have to wait long. "Are you sure you can't—" "We're here." He stopped walking when you did, spot slanting when he surveyed the shops and stalls around him, trying to read the signs. "a café date?—," He chuckled lightly, chest heaving lightly "'—You know you could have—"
"Not there, baby." You flexed your hands into his, he let one of his drop, and linked your fingers with his— squeezing your palm in interest.
You turned towards the animal rescue centre, giving your lover a mischievous grin and stepped beside him to open the door.
The spotted dalmatian looked up at you, glossy and doe eyed.
You cooed at it through the glass, the puppy wagging it's tail at the high pitched voice you were giving him.
"How come you never talk to me like that?" Your boyfriend had his hands on your shoulders, leaning on your crouched form and looking down at the small dog below him.
"Do you want me to?" You watched his reflection through the glass as he contemplated, spot shifting forms until it settled on a stretched thin line. "No." You snorted and continued sweet talking the puppy.
The dog-keeper smiled happily at the interaction between you and the small puppy.
"Would you like to take him outside?"
You turned your head towards her and nodded your head, sounding a pretty please — you put your hands on your knees and pushed up, standing straight again.
You turned to your lover, standing up on your toes, you smoothed your hands over his cheeks and giving his nose a little kiss.
"This feels demeaning." He pouted at you, hands grabbing at your coat.
You giggled lightly, resting the side of your face on his chest.
"It's not!," you gestured to the adorable puppy ",Look he's cute!"
John considered the tiny dog, slacking a bit under you, and conceding. "Yeah, yeah— whatever." You jumped up and gave his jaw a quick peck. "Exactly!"
You ran towards the back door, leading to the puppy playground.
Your lover called out to you— "I better still be your favourite Spot!"
"My number one, baby!" You called back.
He huffed despite his spot melting into a heart.
Two days later, when he woke up to a plethora of silly gifts, topped with adoption papers and a pink bow — He begrudgingly gave away his title.
+ bonus!!!
"You're just the most handsome spotty boy, aren't 'ya!" A squealing voice followed by a small 'ruff' caught your attention. You closed the door softly, and sneakily dropped your keys in the bowl, and snuck into your living room.
The sight of your loving husband cradling the puppy to his chest as he danced to an unheard tune greeted you. You smiled to yourself, biting your finger and watching him for a moment.
He spun slowly, and when his sight landed on you, he froze. He quickly, albeit gently, placed the small thing back onto the couch. The puppy rolling over and smiling up at you.
John cleared his throat, a closed fist to his throat, and after putting his hands on his hips to "act cool", he spoke.
"His name is The Dot."
You giggled behind your hand, going up and kissing his cheek, not before you pet Dot in passing. "Next time we're adopting a kid."
His spot widened and slid into a heart, blush coating his cheeks.
"And you're not naming them."
He laughed.
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elytrafemme · 1 month ago
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ok yeah im done watching fucking tubbo but yeah. my last thoughts on the dream thing are that if someone as an adult is making heavy sexual jokes around minors that is a warning sign if not actually definitive itself of grooming. not to pull this card for the thousandth time (though i am in a better headspace now, before people worry) but i always feel like i have to for the sake of making a point, like. that is HOW it got started for me. it was jokes about sex, and then it was sending sexual fanfictions back and forth, and then it was him telling me an anecdote about his sex life because it was "funny", and it just snowballs from there until we're having the "you're going to make me catch a case" talk when i was fucking fourteen, maybe fifteen. and even though what happened to me wasn't "major" i've stopped thinking about it as lucky because no i wasn't lucky. i didn't make it out unscathed clearly. dream (and also wilbur!) joking about sex around minors, doubling down as soon as they turn 18, etc-- that is creepy. that is weird.
there are conversations that can be had about sex with minors. sometimes there are sex ed questions! and most of the time that sort of thing is like, you redirect them to scarletteen or something, but i'd be insane to act like it never comes up sometimes, right. but joking about sexual anecdotes and making explicit sexual jokes around minors like... that is so fucking creepy. and like there's a tiny line there i GUESS of like some sex jokes being so disambiguated and vague and pop culture-y that it's fine but most sex jokes are like, why would you make that to kids.
(also not to mention like... dream calling tommy's mom and that display of power over him? nonsexual but that is still manipulative behavior. it all folds together.)
i haven't looked back at dream's allegations, all i know was that a lot of allegations were made and dream is a notorious liar and i believe victims so i think my position is clear. but i need to express that even if in the rare sliver of a case ALL of that was untrue, dream is STILL a creep for the way he interacted with minors. i'm not going to explicitly call him a pedophile, i will call him a groomer though. i won't state that he groomed tommy or tubbo because that is not something either of them have said, but i am just drawing conclusions and relating it back to my experiences that lead me to believe he is overall a groomer.
i don't have a lot of minors following me nowadays because i was on the younger end of mcytblr when i was into it, at least in my circles. so i won't speak to that audience i will just speak broadly when i say that if you take ANYTHING from this, it's that grooming is not a cookie-cutter kind of trauma or situation. i never physically interacted with my groomer, and i have left with the impression that he wasn't attracted to me personally. but what he did to me was him doing powerplay, it was him trying to use my idolization of him as a way to justify all of his horrible actions. as a fun side note, while he was emotionally manipulating me, he was also telling me freak sexual shit. but at the core of it, he love bombed me because he needed someone in his corner who, even when he fucked over every last person we knew, would want to believe him so bad. and in a way, he succeeded. i never rekindled my friendship with those other people in the group, and it just gradually dripped away over months. i'm glad that hasn't affected some of the ex-dreamsmp creators, with regard to... what was tubbo calling it, brighton crew? whatever.
the day the internet realizes the nuances of grooming and sexual assault is the day that people like me can finally be at peace online. it's easy to pick away at screenshots and argue that it was only second or third or whatever degree whatever, but all of that goes away when you are actually having the experience. because you realize then what it can do to you, even if it's no-physical contact, even if the person isn't directly attracted to you, even if it wasn't for very long, even even even. and i'm glad none of the minors-at-the-time dsmp ex-creators seem to have left with substantial trauma on the sexual front, but i am always going to talk about it because i think it is important. and as much as i bitch and moan about the ex-dsmp content creators who were minors (or barely 18) at the time, and the gripes i have with some of them now, i will always be sympathetic to all of them because i understand what it feels like. thanks for reading. & you're never alone, as a survivor, as someone going through this, ever. lots of love everyone.
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It has been one whole year since season 2 came out! The joy of that day! And today to celebrate we get another clip from heartstopper’s pride pop ups! This time in Brighton from 12pm today and 1pm tomorrow. Head down if you can! 🍂🍂
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theunderestimator-2 · 3 months ago
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Proto-Housemartins Paul Heaton & Norman Cook (later known as Fatboy Slim), busking in Brighton in 1982, when they were still called Stomping Pond Frogs. That teenage band called it a day when Cook left for uni but he two buddies met again in the mid-'80s, when Cook was eventuall recruited for the early Housemartins.
I came to think of my fave geeky glee pop band The Housemartins when their 1986 ballad "Think For A Minute" came up on the radio while I was reading about the US election aftermath and it somehow seemed to fit the mood perfectly:
"…And many bow their heads in shame/ That used to hold them high/ And those that used to say hello/ Simply pass you by…"
(via)
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zeondraws · 2 months ago
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Fellas, year is almost overrrr and it feels kinda surreal what I went through to reach this point.
I may feel nauseous rn but...! Today was a good day, my friends family and other relatives of her came today. I showed them my budgie too, he may be getting blind but people were able to hold him on their hands.
I haven't felt such joy in a while, I don't know how to put it. I remember the first years when I stayed at my friend's place around Christmas or so. It was fun but I was still dealing with other stuff that stressed me out. Especially last december was extremely stressful for me.. I mentioned it in another post? I think?
I unpacked some presents I got today. There was one special present in it, where I still can't believe of owning it.
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!!! SWTD themed Christmas Jumper! Like?? Wow!! Still bewildered that one got sent to me, I mean this game is so much fun and I'm so darn obsessed analysing every detail of it whenever I can.
I literally played through it again on my PlayStation, I usually don't play such games multiple times but this one? It just hit me the moment I saw a Let's play of it. The first one I saw was from IGP, I really enjoyed him playing it, even tho Rennick JUMPSCARED me the first time I saw that scene.
First few times playing this game I got nightmares from Gibbo or my heart was racing while I ran away from Rennick. I don't know why, Gibbo's sentences haunted me so much. The pain in his voice was unbearable. (Same with O'Conner)
Trots still gives me the creeps, like he just has that aura on him. However, jumping over Trots is also very funny. And Muir's level I can now play in my sleep. I think 1/3 of my hours shown on steam is just me messing with Muir. It's currently at 154 hours played.
And Roper... my beloved *shakes my fists* poor wee man. He did nothing wrooonggggg. Sobs loudly. Foaming at the mouth and hoping there is more lore of him in the artbook. The wait will soon be over. I'm so excited.
But... I just wanna say thank you again to the devs and publishers for this awesome game. It very much helped me be able to get through the day for months. Considering it came out when I was still in a bad work environment, constantly getting bullied. I kept rewatching Playthroughs to stay calm.
I think I related to Caz a lot too, even if everything was basically falling apart around him, he kept going. Ofc he sadly couldn't get a happy ending in the end. But I just try to remember to keep going. Even if I needed to endure my old job for a bit longer, until my new job started.
It bring me so much joy being able to learn more about the gaming industry and the programs used to make such games. And ofc datamining the game and looking at every little detail. May it be the smallest thing such as a file called "CazYeet" or finding an entire unused level that was scrapped. Or even Muir's hit by prop sounds! My eyes WIDENED when I heard them.
I sometimes check artstation on multiple occasions, just to see if something new popped up. And whenever it does, I do a little mental happy dance.
(Petition to make an april fools update where the hit by prop sounds are enabled/JOKE)
Maybe one day I can finally switch over to the entertainment industry, but I need to teach myself so much first. I still wanna go to art school so badlyyyyy. I can already see I won't feel ready enough until I'm 30 or so. Although I'm going to be 23 in 2 days- I still have to practice so many skillsets ajshajsjaksnaksnksks *explodes* but I shall avoid spiralling in my thoughts.
I think I appreciate games so much more now, I still want to try out a bunch of them. But I firstly have to work on some swtd related projects. I'm definitely planning on making a big analysis video next year, which sounds terrifying, I need to practice talking in recordings first. ;a; But I can't forget to visit events too, I need to try out so much stuff;;;;
Okay before I ramble on endlessly... Just, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
@thechineseroom-brighton @wearesecretmode
I hope it's okay if I tag, I know I talk like a river at times, but since I'm a very emotional human being I usually like sharing my thoughts.
I wish the the fandom and devs a Merry Christmas and a great start to the New Year. May everyone heal from past wounds and form new positive memories.
Have this drawing of my OC Kirsten holding bird Roper in his arms.
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grelleswife · 10 months ago
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Gripping this promotional illustration for the 2020 Black Label Funtom Hotel pop-up store with both hands as I delude myself into thinking it’s foreshadowing for my wife’s return in the Brighton arc:
Grelle at the hotel, Grelle at the hotel, GRELLE AT THE HOTEL—
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emomeishibot · 9 months ago
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A wip for the Cielcest May 20th collab project on Weibo🤗 initiated by my dedicated friend 琳, @DLynn1105 on X
I mixed the Funtom hotel pop up shop 2020 poster outfit with Enstars Ringing Evil Phone mv set—that mv is so kuro aesthetic (the devil contract part) coded and I’ve been into enstar since they did the Midnight Butlers mv back in the days. Both mv felt like they are paying homage to kuro since basically when it comes to anime butlers and devils nowadays it’s so hard to not to refer to kuro😂. this time I get to make something for both fandoms that I’ve enjoyed for years! Before the Brighton hotel reveal I’ll just indulge myself with the idea of having the twins meet in the Evil Num+ club: OCiel the night butler suggests RCiel that he may ring for their signature service if he wish to🫢(yeah my idea mainly came from the mv.
Check out the mv if you enjoy anime boy idols💕
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oneminutefiftysixseconds · 2 months ago
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🌐 You can add one race to the world tour calendar (promoting an existing race or inventing a new one). What do you do?
for everyone that asked me this question i thank you and i will be answering it all at once here because i put WAY too much thought into this. way too much.
Tour Of Britain But It's (Hopefully) Less Shit
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Stage 1A: Richmond Park 10km 50m elev.
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we open with a 10k lap of Richmond Park -- it's the cycling hotspot of the capital, time trials are a big part of the UK domestic scene, and i like a prologue TT. and it would really piss off london cyclists when whoever wins sets a record time around the park, taking with them the leaders jersey for the first proper road stage later the same day:
Stage 1B: London -> Brighton, 150km 1,000m elev.
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a meandering journey to the seaside taking in the Olympics-famous Box Hill and joining the classic London to Brighton route, the first stage winner will likely need to bide their time and hope an attack on Ditchling Beacon gets them enough of a gap to take them to the finish line.
Stage 2: Oxford -> Cambridge, 190km 700m elev.
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between the two ancient university towns lies the flat and beautiful Bedfordshire. the peloton will start among the dreaming spires and the sprinters will tough it out on King's Parade, a stone's throw from the apple tree newton supposedly sat under while working on gravitation!
Stage 3: Telford -> Stoke-on-Trent, 220km 1,500m elev.
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we loop into Wales for a long but relatively gentle start to the hills... the Clwydian Range might not be the Pyrenees but there are plenty significant climbs in there that indicate today is likely one for the breakaway -- or an audacious solo -- and the notorious welsh weather could lead to all sorts of surprises
Stage 4: Manchester -> Leeds, 160km, 1,800m elev.
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heading first south from Manchester into the Peak District and finishing with a city circuit in Leeds, this should be another chance for a breakaway ahead of tomorrow...
Stage 5, the Queen Stage: York -> Hardknott Pass, 280km, 3,500m (!) elev.
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i woke up and chose violence. giro mountain stages eat your heart out, it's time for GC action in the North York Moors, Yorkshire Dales, and the Lake District with a summit finish on Hardknott Pass (the steepest road in england, maxing out at an eye-popping 30%). Rosedale Chimney, Buttertubs Pass, and the aptly named Struggle are the key climbs before Hardknott, and the helicopter shots will be superb as the race passes through some of the UK's most beautiful landscapes, finishing within sight of Scafell Pike.
Stage 6: Carlisle -> Glasgow, 180km, 850m elevation.
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a border-crossing run into two laps of the iconic 2023 city circuit, this punchy stage will likely favour whichever classics specialist can recover the best from yesterday's efforts
Stage 7: Edinburgh -> Newcastle, 195km, 1,000m elev.
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starting in scotland's capital, today is the final opportunity for any GC changes, mostly rolling terrain but enough to make a difference if it's only a few seconds
Stage 8: Peterborough -> Great Yarmouth, 180km 300m elev.
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and so the Tour of Britain But It's (Hopefully) Less Shit concludes with a sprint along Great Yarmouth's seafront Golden Mile, bringing to an end a hopefully exciting one-week race in this country that does actually have decent cycling, contrary to what the actual TOB might lead you to believe
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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 3 months ago
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"What are you going to do?"
Remus felt guilty that because of him Grant was in this predicament. Even if he insisted it wasn't his fault.
"Don' worry, luv"
"Of course I worry, this is my fault..."
"Nah, it's not..."
Grant was smiling. How could he be smiling if Remus had tears in his eyes? Grant was not only bruised but he had lost Fen, the boys who were his family, everything. And if Remus hadn't gone to Hogwarts after Sirius, his childhood crush, like a stupid fool, Grant wouldn't have had to lie. And Fen wouldn't have been pissed. And the boys wouldn't have gotten it even on Grant.
"I would 'ave pissed Fen anyway" Grant added, reading Remus's mind "I wan'ed out a long time ago. I wan'ed be'er than stealing and selling drugs"
That didn't make Remus feel better. He felt even worse. Grant had been so good with him. Remus had been caught up in teenage drama, pranks, parties and pining over Sirius. He didn't think constantly on how Grant and the others were doing. Maybe Fen was right. He had been busy playing to be a posh boy.
"You should come with me to Hogwarts" Remus begged "You can stay in my dorm..." he thought about what the other boys would say... They were friendly anyway "We can get you a job at Hogsmeade... We are friends of the owner of one of the bars, Madam Rosemerta. She's nice. You can work with her. Or in the Library, anywhere you want... There is a cool candy store, from where I buy the finest chocolate...."
Grant smirking amused.
"That sounds great, luv" he said making Remus plan everything in his head "But I can't..." he added, popping Remus's bubble of dreams. "That's yer place and yer world... Not mine..."
Remus was taken aback.
"But..."
"I wan'yeh to finish yer last year in peace. Without distractions or taking care of me" Grant said "You're the smart boy, remember? I want'ta see yeh in a good Uni"
Remus blushed because Grant always made him feel special. Like he was destined to great things. When it was not actually the case. He was average. He did well at school but there were people that killed to be better. Like James and Lily for example.
"Where are you going to go then?"
That didn't mean that Remus wanted Grant to go. Remus was able to stand all the superficial comments of everyone at school and all the questions of teachers to keep Grant safe.
"Brighton" Grant smirked "That's where I'm from supposedly, innit?"
Remus blinked in surprise. Brighton? Remus didn't want him to leave London.
"Are you looking for your parents?"
Grant snorted "I don' think those bastards would care for me. No"
"But how are you going to get there? You don't have any money left"
Grant didn't have anything left. All his life was with the boys. But right now, Remus wanted to do was spike Grant's guns, so he would stay.
Grant shrugged "I'll figure it out, darlin'"
"I can give you the money for the bus ticket"
Remus had forgotten that Sirius was there. He had been so quiet and peaceful. Not common in Sirius. Just letting the two long time friends have a conversation.
Now both of them, turned to look at him, acknowledging his presence.
Remus was furious. They had been talking about Grant's poor conditions. How they had all shared Fen's tiny flat and they didn't have more opportunities than stealing and selling drugs. Now Sirius was giving his money away. Like the stupid brat posh he was.
"Nah, it's alright!" Grant waved off nervously, eyeing at Remus's penetrating eyes on Sirius.
"It's okay" Sirius ignored him "I reckon my Uncle left some money around this flat"
"Sirius..." Remus grunted.
"He has a safe box somewhere, maybe we can crack it open..."
Only Grant would smile in a situation like this. He was pure sunshine.
"Grant, would you give us a second?" Remus said, eyes still on Sirius.
Grant looked between the two. Then rised to his feet.
"Alright... I'll have a fag in the balcony..." he extended his hand "Luv..." Remus gave him the pack "Cheers" he sniffed before walking away, whistling happily on his way.
There was a brief silence after that. Remus wished Sirius didn't look so adorable, so beautiful, like a lost puppy without knowing what he did wrong.
Remus swallowed his desire to kiss him.
"What the fuck was that, Sirius?"
"I was just trying to help, Moony"
"By giving away your money!!"
"It's not my money, technically it's my Uncle's..."
Remus groaned. He didn't know if he loved or hated Sirius more.
"The point is that you don't get to go around offering money to people. It's offensive, you stupid posh boy!"
Sirius kept looking at him with that same innocent expression.
"He needs the money, I don't. So I don't see why I can't just give it to him" Sirius shrugged.
"You are such a twat that doesn't understand anything"
"He's your friend and I am simply trying to help him"
Remus shook his head in fury.
"It's that simple. He can leave if he wishes" Sirius carried on "But maybe you're just pissed because you want him to stay"
Remus would have loved how jealous Sirius sounded if he wasn't so pissed. Now he showed interest. When he had competition.
"He clearly wants to leave"
"And you would want him to go, wouldn't you?" Remus snapped "So you won't have competition? Let's talk about how Grant's presence makes you feel insecure, Sirius!"
When Remus got angry, he bit until he tasted blood. And now the calmed expression that Sirius had until now, was gone.
"Stop being an idiot, Remus!" Sirius spat back "It is not about that..."
"Oh really?"
"I just want to help"
"Why?"
"Because I love you and he is important to you!!" Sirius yelled.
Remus was taken aback by the use of the words 'I love you'. Sirius hadn't said them upfrontly. He had kissed him with desire. He had said he was sexy. Remus knew he cared about him as friends. There was no doubt of that. But love him? Never.
"And yes, fuck it, I am really jealous"
When Sirius pulled him for a kiss, Remus knew he was just doing all of this to mark his territory. Because Sirius didn't love him like that. He just wanted to prove that nobody would have him except for him.
And Remus kissed him back. Because he was an addict that knew his drug was bad but couldn't stop.
'Have some dignity, Remus!' A voice said in his mind. It sounded suspiciously close to Lily's for some reason.
Then he pushed Sirius away.
"You wanted to kiss me so he would see, ha?"
He gestured towards Grant who was indeed looking from the balcony amused. But when he was caught, he looked away into the street, waving awkwardly to the people passing down.
"Moony..."
Remus got up furiously before Sirius could say anything else. What a wanker! What a wanker! What a wanker!
Remus ignored Sirius as he called him again, and walked towards the terrace. Grant raised an eyebrow to him. He didn't look offended or anything. He was enjoying this too much. Remus felt pathetic.
"So... Do you really want to leave?" Remus asked. 'To leave me?' he thought.
Grant smiled with cigarette between his lips and all.
"You haff foun' where yeh belong, darlin'" Grant said flickering his eyes towards Sirius, and Remus didn't like how that sounded "I need ter find my way, don't I?"
Remus's eyes filled with tears. They used to belong together. But not anymore. It was true. Remus couldn't fit him with the rest of his Hogwarts friends. Grant would probably become friends of all of them. But there were many things they didn't share. It had been a shock for Remus. And he hadn't lived the life Grant had.
"I might let Sirius pay your ticket..." Remus said as he crossed his arms "He owes me a lot anyway..." he heard Sirius snorting in the back "But only with the condition that you'll call me all the time... And let me come and visit you"
Grant's smirk became wider. Remus wasn't surprised when he pulled him in for a tight hug.
"Of course, darlin!" Grant laughed like a little kid on Remus's ear "You'll never get rid of meh, yeah hear me?"
Remus was silently crying at this point. Because he would definitely miss this boy. So he buried his teary face on his shoulder.
He knew Sirius was looking. He didn't want to think about it.
When the two boys broke apart, Sirius was standing next to them. He didn't look jealous or possessive. Just careful. And God, why was he so freaking beautiful? And why did Remus love him so much?
"It's settled then" Remus said to break the ice, wiping his tears away "Let's break Alphard's safe box... But first, I am going to the loo"
He didn't look at Sirius, just smiled at Grant as he stepped inside.
But he stopped...
"And now that you're offering money, Sirius. Why don't you invite us breakfast? I'm bloody starving"
Remus was still acting pissed. Although Sirius was smiling. What a prick!
Remus was walking to the loo, when he heard Grant laughing. So he stopped to listen more.
"Little Rem is really pissed at yeh, ain't he?"
"I know" Sirius sounded so formal next to Grant. "He's been like that lately"
"But he's properly in luv wiff yeh, yeah? He's always been" Grant sniffed, but Remus could hear the smile on his voice.
Sirius took a bit longer to answer.
"I love him as well" he said "Of course I do"
Remus wished he would explain in which way.
"Now I'll have to tell yeh that if you'll ever hurt my little Rem, I'll have to find you and punch yer pretty face, mate!"
Remus smiled because he knew Sirius was blushing.
"I won't. I promise"
Grant tutted "Good!" he said "And thanks for the money, by the way"
"My Uncle Alphard would have loved to give his money to a queer boy. He did that on life anyway"
Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius thought he was so clever, didn't he?
Probably Sirius didn't expect Grant to laugh like he did.
"Yer funny, not jus' a pretty posh boy"
Oh Jesus, was Grant low key flirting with Sirius? He would've paid to see Sirius’s face now.
"And you're cool, not just a street junkie"
Grant laughed even louder. Remus even heard Sirius giggling, so he smiled. He figured he could leave them alone for a bit.
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killervelveteenrabbit · 1 year ago
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"The Ghost and Molly McGee", Ten Years After
Molly’s ongoing work to improve the economic, cultural, and mental well-being of Brighton has earned her the love and respect of everyone in town, a few write-ups in statewide and national publications… and a full scholarship to the University of Iowa’s civil and environmental engineering program. She’s returned to Brighton, working for City Hall as assistant city planner (with her dad as her boss, which isn’t awkward at all, really) while earning her master’s online.
Molly wasn’t alone while she attended UI—Libby was her dormmate all four years that she was there. She earned a scholarship of her own, majoring in English. She also returned to Brighton after graduating, becoming a part-time reporter for the town newspaper while helping run her mother’s bookstore. All of this is in addition to her literary career. Matias, her father, took a second look at the fantasy novel she wrote and realized it was publication-worthy. It wasn’t a best seller, but the royalties from this and two other books Libby has written since let her live comfortably and pursue her passions in life. Her latest project is a series of books helping small children understand and live with the effects of divorce.
Molly and Ollie hit a rough patch after an admittedly stupid argument during their senior year of high school, and their two-month breakup proved just as hard on their respective families as it was on each other. They got back together just in time for graduation from Brighton High, only to part ways as Molly went to UI and Oliver headed for Iowa State. But they carried out a successful medium-distance relationship (it was only a two-hour drive between the two campuses).
Ollie has parlayed his experience as a researcher for his parents’ MeTube videos into a career as a freelance researcher for an assortment of psychological and medical foundations. While he travels all over the Midwest and occasionally beyond, he’s based out of Brighton… specifically, the rental house he shares with Molly. Ollie and Molly are practically married already, but their parents are eager for them to make it official. The couple are waiting a while to save enough money to stage the dream wedding and after-party they always wanted without breaking the bank.
Several years ago, an ill-advised deal involving a shipment of counterfeit designer smartwatches and the Uzbek mafia landed Darryl in hotter water than usual. He’s lucky all he got away with was lockdown in juvie until his 21st birthday… which got commuted to two hundred hours of community service and time served due to an unexpected (and slightly suspicious) governor’s pardon. At any rate, the whole debacle soured Darryl on similar schemes. He’s kept his nose clean since then, barring a few school detentions. He takes business courses at a local community college with plans to transfer to a four-year institution this fall. His current side hustle involves promotions and advertising for assorted boutiques and under-21 nightclubs that have popped up in Brighton's revitalized downtown.
June lives away from home, majoring at Drake University. But she remains Darryl’s best friend, the only person outside his family who’s consistently been there for him after his schemes blew up in his face—figuratively and almost literally; she was the one who detected that leak in the ammonium nitrate storage tank Darryl stashed out near the water tower. They even dated for a while before mutually acknowledging the situation was “weird” and deciding they were better off as friends. On a related note, maybe Esther shouldn’t have paid out all that money to have her wedding dress remade.
Pete and Sharon are still happily married. Pete takes great pride in the improvements he’s helped make for his adopted hometown of Brighton, and he’s especially flattered that his daughter is following in his footsteps. The town’s successes have become Pete’s successes—in the last ten years, he’s fixed up the family home and bought his first non-used car. He’s even dusted off his vinyl for a few gigs at some of the new clubs downtown. Meanwhile, Sharon offers painting classes at the local community center and retirement home. These days, she primarily uses her Gig Pig account to set up painting parties in and around town, sometimes as far out as Perfektborg.
The Chens’ enlightenment about the true nature of ghosts has led them to step away from their “Ghost Chaser Chens” MeTube channel. Ruben has had far more luck marketing his brand of small-batch root beer, now available in grocery and convenience stores all over the state. Recently, Esther inspired Ruben to introduce a “spiked” version flavored with Habanero peppers. Reception has been mixed.
Grandma Nin and her friend Patty are the self-described “Bad Girls of Brighton Hills”, but their adventures have proven more constructive than mischievous. They’ve organized concerts at the bandshell, joined the Senior Construction Crew on home-repair projects for needy families, and hosted a weekly potluck dinner/board game session in the home’s cafeteria. These dinners always feature Patty’s homemade gumbo—Nin helped her fine-tune the recipe so now it’s actually edible.
The McGees look forward to David and Emmie’s annual visits, a chance to catch up with family and connect with their heritage. The Thai lessons Molly took on Triolingo have helped her feel slightly more at ease when the Suksais come to call. Also, Sharon has tried practicing some Thai dishes, with Pete’s assistance and (critically) while Nin isn’t in the vicinity.
A year after Davenport’s closed its doors, the family rolled the dice and started a supermarket specializing in organic groceries, local produce, and hard-to-find foreign brands… items Bizmart couldn’t or wouldn’t accommodate. The gamble paid off, and Davenport's Turnip Patch sells and ships to customers across the region—yes, even to Perfektborg. (Sharon and Nin are frequent visitors since they carry Thai specialties like jackfruit, pandan extract, and even durian.) Andrea maintains the store’s computer systems but pointedly avoids appearing in advertising. She’s back on her socials, but not as an influencer. Her “Girl Code” series on MeTube provides tips and tricks for entry-level coding enthusiasts. The videos feature occasional cameos by her girlfriend Alina, who’s also taken an interest in the subject.
Three months after Scratch cast off his Chairman’s robes, they settled upon the recently departed spirit of a retired manager of an IRS branch office. Since then, the Ghost Council has basked in bureaucratic bliss, leaving the denizens of Ghost World alone and happy. Not long after Todd left, Molly conducted a séance and told Geoff what happened to Scratch. He realizes it will be a while before he sees his friend again, but at least he has Jeff to keep him company.
Todd and Adia have photographed wild horse herds in Montana, kayaked off the Antarctic Peninsula, biked through Croatia, snorkeled with manta rays in Hawaii, and helped refurbish a centuries-old mosque in Brunei… and that’s just in the last year! Their adventures included a meditation retreat in India where Todd astrally projected his spirit out of his body for a few minutes. He “came back” talking about a young lady back in Brighton who showed him how to live even though he was already “dead”. On their next swing back to the United States, Molly is the first person they plan to visit.
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