#SOMEBODY BETTER GIVE HIM A COMPETITIVE CAR NEXT YEAR!

[leclerking]

★ Happy Birthday to the people's princess ! (Charles Leclerc the Prince of Monaco)

[lovscb97]

tags: nerd!bang chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, inexperienced chan, experienced reader, kissing, slight corruption kink, kinda toxic relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), face-sitting, exhibitionism lowkey (they’re in a locker room), nicknames (channie, baby, pretty boy), angst kinda?, porn with some plot, etc

wc: 2.06k

add. notes: these previews kilt me. they Kilt Me. therefore i present to u face-sitting with nerd chan. it's not entirely pwp but enjoy anyways :3

. . . 

you’re not quite sure how you got here, honestly. one moment, you’re out at cheer practice with your girls, doing complicated stunts and diligently rehearsing the rigorous routines outlined for the upcoming game, all with your coach blowing her whistle every other minute of course. but the next? 

you’re in a stuffy locker room making out with the captain of the mathletes team as he pants against your mouth, begging you for more.

it started off with a simple favour— you needed somebody to help you get your grades up after missing one too many classes, and chan was the best in the year; naturally, you asked for his assistance. he’d gone wide in the eyes and red in the face when you’d walked up to him after your shared lecture, leaving you biting back a laugh at the way he stuttered over his words over the prospect of teaching you, even refusing at first. to your fortunate pleasure however, you convinced him to agree in the end, which is how you ended up at your first session in his house, crammed together on his childhood bed and eyeing the walls of his room littered with spelling bee awards and academic medals from various competitions. 

somehow down the line of those little sessions, you and chan grew closer, bonding over your shared love for movies and hidden local diners in your city, and the first time you hung out with him outside of the guise of studying at those very local diners, you found yourselves grinding against each other in the backseat of his beatdown car. you still remember the way he fumbled over himself, red ears burning and big doe eyes blinking up at you as you kissed him, albeit awkward with his lack of expertise but still sweet in the way he held you close to him. you suppose that’s where your little ‘sessions’ turned into a special type of studying, and where this charade began to unfold as your dirty secret.

which brings you back to now. 

“need.. need you.” chan huffs, pulling away momentarily from messily locking his lips with yours as you breathe heavily against him. you blink for a moment as if processing his words, and a cheeky smile spreads across your face slowly as you take in his disheveled hair and blown out features. “yeah? what do you need, pretty boy?” you tease, trailing a single finger across his pale skin to trace the outline of his collarbone, feeling him shiver under your touch as a low whine escapes his mouth. 

“need to taste you.” he mumbles shyly, and you coo at the way he hangs his head low as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, hooking a finger under his chin to get a look at his slightly teary eyes. when they finally make contact with yours, you can’t help but smile softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips that has your insides positively melting. 

sometimes you realise that despite his enthusiasm in engaging with you, chan is just a soft-spoken boy. he’s so untouched and pure that it makes you want to absolutely break him, to taint that perfect image he’s put on and quite literally corrupt him to become your toy. amidst that realisation, it also dawns on you that one day he’ll come to terms with the fact that this isn’t what he deserves, that this isn’t how he should be enjoying his firsts with someone who doesn’t even have the nerve to commit to him and how he’ll move on sooner or later to find somebody better that can give him what he wants without needing to hide it. the mere thought of it always leaves your stomach swirling in bitterness and disgust, but you swallow the lump it creates at the back of your throat because those are feelings you’re yet not ready to confront, and for now, if this is what you can have, then this is what you’ll take.

“and how do you want me?” you ask lowly, taking chan’s hand in yours and placing it on your waist, feeling the way he bunches up the fabric of your cheer outfit in his palm. “tell me.” you murmur. “tell me and i’ll give it all to you.”

“want you to sit my face.” he gasps out, hooded eyes staring at you as the words leave his mouth, and suddenly all your self restraint is snapping in half. before you know it, you’re yanking him by the collar of his brown jacket, smashing your lips together once more and swallowing the squeak of surprise that leaves him. the kiss is desperate, and wet, and sloppy, but neither of you care about it or the fact that anyone could walk in and see you both, far too lost in each other to give much of a damn. 

“get on the bench.” you demand once you’ve retracted yourself from him, chan’s wide pupils searching yours to see if you’re serious. when you don’t say anything or move, he’s immediately scrambling for his balance and toppling back onto the wooden structure, drawing a small giggle from you that has his insides tightening and jeans straining. 

“wait!” he blurts out as you move to hook your fingers into your skirt, swallowing when you raise an eyebrow at him. “keep it on.” he whispers, and you swear your heart stops beating right then and there. you nod slowly after a while in understanding, because that’s all you fear you can manage without actually jumping his bones in that moment. 

“lay on your back.” you quietly instruct, and chan eagerly follows like a puppy taking orders from its owner. he yelps when his snapback falls off his head at the angle he’s at, but you’re quick to catch it, pushing it back onto his curls with a wink as you straddle his face. “keep it on.” you mimic his words from earlier, chuckling at the way his cheeks flush pink at your response because by god, he was far too cute for his own good. 

“wait a minute,” chan’s eyes widen when he at last focuses his attention on you and gets a glimpse of your drenched core. “were you.. were you not wearing anything under your skirt?” he questions cautiously, nearly choking when you merely shrug. “i like easy access.” a devious smirk journeys across your face when you answer him, and chan has to bite back a moan at the idea of you parading around commando all day. his imagination doesn’t get the chance to run too wild, because by the time he can even register what’s happening, you’re already lowering yourself onto his awaiting mouth, groans leaving the two of you at the fact that you’re both finally, finally getting what you’ve been waiting for all day.

“fuck,” chan curses into you, and you hiss at the way his words rumble deep in his chest and travel through your core. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” he breathes out once more, swiping through your folds hysterically as your taste invades his senses. you’re everywhere, in his mind, his mouth, even his soul, especially from the way you begin to slowly rock yourself back and forth on his wet muscle. he swears he might die a happy man today when he feels your thighs smothering him on each side, hands moving up to grip the plush of them before he’s sticking his tongue out and letting you ride it.

“how are you so good at this?” you laugh to yourself in disbelief, biting your lip at the way his nose bumps against your clit perfectly each time he lets you move yourself against him. chan merely grunts in response, too engrossed in eating you out to even answer, and when he pulls you down to suck on your swollen bundle of nerves, you swear you see stars. the only thing heard in the isolated locker room you’re currently going at it in by now are the lewd slurps coming from his mouth along with your whimpers, which only get higher in pitch the more he continues to eat at you.

“so damn good.” chan keens. “so fucking wet, and sweet too.” his words only spur you on further, and before you know it, the telltale signs of your orgasm are creeping up on you. chan shows no signs of stopping though, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises and pulling you impossibly further down on his mouth to the point you feel like you actually might suffocate him. he doesn’t care, of course, he’d die a happy man to be smothered by your perfect cunt.

“channie, baby, wait.” you cry out softly when he envelops your engorged nub in his mouth and laves his tongue over it repeatedly, moaning obscenely against your pussy. “‘m gonna cum if you do that, wait, wait.” chan in fact does not wait, only speeding up his movements and continuing to lick at you until you’re shaking through the familiar waves of pleasure, a silent scream falling from your lips as you spray warm and wet on his tongue. it drips down his chin and your inner thighs, but neither of you care with you buzzing in overstimulation from the way chan continues to suck at you through the shocks, and him with you cumming on his tongue so pretty. 

by the time you’re done, he’s still going at it, and it takes you gripping his hair and weakly standing up from his mouth to get chan to finally stop. when you look down at him from your awkward position, the lower half of his face glistens back at you, his plump lips and pretty features wet with your arousal and juices, prompting you to bite back a moan. you swing your leg over and shakily stand, petting your skirt down to get rid of the creases as chan sits up, still looking like he ascended to another dimensional plane. he’s rock hard in his boxers by now, cock painfully straining against his jeans, but he can’t find it in himself to get you to help him out.

“well,” you clear your throat after a moment of silence. “i should get going.” chan’s heart sinks in his chest at your words, and it must show in his expression too because you can’t seem to meet his eyes with the way your gaze stays locked on your twiddling fingers. “they’re probably wondering where i’ve been, so..” you trail off, trying to find a way to excuse yourself despite your mind screaming at you to do otherwise.

“yeah.” chan curses internally at the way his voice cracks. “yeah, you should go.” the sentence comes out more bitter than he intends it to, but he can’t help it. a part of him wants you to feel guilty for just up and leaving without even delving into what this is, what it could mean and become if you just allowed yourself to let it do so, but he’s come to learn that he just can’t expect that from you at this point. so, he doesn’t, instead choosing to wave bye as you sheepishly make your way outside the locker room to the field. once you’re out of sight, he sighs heavily, covering his face with his hands before flopping back down on the bench, his mind racing with thoughts. 

because the simple fact is that chan knows. he knows you’re oh so out of his league, and you would’ve been miles away from his reach either way had it not been for the fact that you stopped him one random thursday afternoon to ask if he could help you out in economics 101. and yet, a part of him still longs for you, longs for your presence and the way you bat your eyelashes at him when he scolds you for getting a question wrong. he longs for the way your perfume wafts in his direction when you pass him in the hallways, ignoring his existence like you both weren’t tangled up in each other’s embrace the night before. even though his heart hurts so painfully, even though his friends all say you’re bad for him, even though he knows himself how bad you are for him, he doesn’t care. 

for him, it’s always going to be you.

. . . 

comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[cmilesfm]

if you go down to hammond, you'll never come back.

[ josh o'connor, cis-male, he / him ]  — whoa! MILES COATES just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 6 YEARS, working as a TENNIS ATHLETE. that can’t be easy, especially at only 32 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit DISTRACTED and BITTER, but i know them to be UNINHIBITED and RESOURCEFUL. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to BROOKLYN!

in my opinion, you're on the wrong track.

pinterest. playlist. google doc.

basics

full name: miles coates. age: thirty-two. occupation: professional tennis player (struggling) with rare moonlighting as a coach for adolescents, he's not fond of broadcasting his situation at all. borough: brooklyn. sexuality: bisexual. gender: cis male. pronouns: he/him. birthplace: new canaan, connecticut. zodiac: gemini. positive traits: persuasive. eager. competitive. negative traits: stubborn. shameful. directionless.

biography

miles lives in a cramped apartment in brooklyn he affords by scrounging around for tournament money. it's mostly old furniture, old trophies absent-mindedly left in random places and hordes of beaten rackets, unopened wilson ball canisters and ruined sneakers. he barely fits his bed, which is another feeling beyond embarrassing, so he ops for the couch instead. a tiny place.

he grew up in the suburbs of connecticut to a regular, middle-class family. his home life was consistent, with a brother and sister, mother and father. to this day, they're still together and remain a rooting anchor for miles despite his worst qualities.

he moved out pretty young given his new found career, his second semester into college.

after graduating, he followed where ever tennis took him, but only recently did he settle down in new york. a little over an hour away from new canaan.

his career has always streamlined a climate of, "just enough." just enough to float around circuits with buzz that might propel you into a better tournament which might finally get your stats high enough to qualify for an actual pro tour.

miles has always been an edgy, loose at the seams kind of guy. aimless in a way that left his family worried, but unable to reel in. if he were more self aware, he might attribute this attitude to his lackluster tennis career and personal life.

the last time he had legitimate success was in his mid twenties. he had breached the ranks with numbers that put him in hopeful, local tennis talk, with an agent and coach who prodded his ear with, " hey, maybe with a few more seasons like this, the US open could happen? " it never did.

now, besides lingering in matches with guys far younger than him, he offers coaching to bleary eyed kids who don't know if they actually want to pursue tennis beyond their parent's pushing. too much of his time is spent loitering in empty tennis club courts with lazy kids with equally lazy forehands, the sound of the ball bouncing into the racket only to land out.

he's embarrassed by what he does to make ends meet. he's too prideful to admit his run is over and he knows he wouldn't be able to bear the looks promising 20 year olds would give him if they knew he resorted to what is essentially a high school tennis coach.

ultimately, he's always been an introverted sort of guy and intertwined any charisma he has into tennis. so for his game to recede and his disposition to look more and more pathetic, he's become dissatisfied. not only with himself, but his life as well, making him unmoored and rather malignant.

inspirations

big little lies: the general atmosphere of seeing the interior lives of characters, simple details and minor disasters. their private relationships, the language of each character's romantic relationships. trust for trust's sake. the blue hues. moments of introspection in the car rider line. when needing to fall back on somebody suddenly occurs and you realize you need to learn how to clean up after yourself.

the bear, richie jerimovich: when you're at a point in your life when you know there's nothing else to do other than hit the wall, or at least that's how it feels. a tiny apartment to be alone in. a cigarette habit. stubbornly understanding that, yes, you do need the support of others. asking a relative to help you out despite your less than responsible history. the character who feels stuck in a lack of purpose. being the relative who awkwardly relates to the younger table of the family and not on account of some kind of "hip," younger taste.

potential connections

coaching clientele. drifting friendships that always go to catch up over a quick bite, but never seem to remediate their time spent apart. childhood friends. ex-agents. past tennis opponents. ex's and they hate each other, hate. a persistent, familiar friendship he's had since his boston college days. a disgruntled, older mentor (not strictly tennis). current or previous neighbors. his siblings. the inane deck of people you meet during your time in new york. ex-flings. annoying acquaintances. someone who genuinely ruins his day. people he knows from the gym he frequents. the missed connection of someone who could've been the good steady in his life. his physician who knows him well enough to give him life advice while recommending him a physical therapist due to tennis. (off the top of my head, i'm interested to see other potential plot ideas!)

associations

a pile of crumpled, used tennis shoes. a fridge with lazy health foods because he can't be bothered to stay on regimen. the too small feeling he gets when visiting his parents and subsequently the nausea when he stays at his childhood home. the atlantic coast. the oily paper wrapping from his morning breakfast. when his uber drops his request at the worst moment possible. the vague BPM of house music at some club he should really forget about. compulsively checking tournament calendars. forgetting to hold his racket loose. windbreakers. the way he should make sense at a country club, but he visibly looks odd in the setting. an incredibly threadbare and worn wallet he refuses to ditch.

misc

at 27, he had to move back home with his parents. he has since internalized this and it always circles in his thoughts when he's self-loathing.

there's a nearby balkan food joint that he frequents that believes he's a legitimate figure in tennis. he doesn't have the heart to let them know he hasn't qualified for anything serious in years and they have a picture of him on the wall that they took themselves. he's pictured awkwardly giving a thumbs up by the counter.

there was a point in his college career that he debated taking leave to focus on tennis, but his parents were the one's to keep him in school. he graduated from BU with a degree in economics he's never had to use.

admin notes

hello all, it's sash! i just wanna leave this off on an excited note. i cannot wait to plot with everyone until my heart shrivels up!

[theyluvkarolina]

ferraris DID work their asses off!!!! leclerc tbh also deserved driver of the day in my eyes both him and lando should have won it 🥰🥰 he did so well w his tyre management and he looked so happy post race which is such a stark contrast to how he usually looks ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 but omg i had the biggest laugh of the week when max told leclerc that there was a 22 sec gap between him and lando 😭😭 the absolute despair on charles face was INSANEEE...sainz overtake game was ITTTTTT!!! and from p9 to p5 is pretty great! he grilled checo and ate his livery for dinner...love to see it!

checo is honestly not even worth it atp...somebody like alonso who genuinely knows how to race even in a shit car or someone completely new to the scene like lawson would do better than him atp...its just become embarassing to see him and mv1 have the same car yet have 5-9 places between them consistently. leclerc and sainz usually have 2-3 if not just 1 between them and they have such diff driving styles and their shit livery and yet they consistently outperform him in one way or another. even ls2 has done better lap times and crashed less in races than checo....a fucking rookie that was put in f1 too early outperforming u is humiliating. God forgive me for possibly jinxing them, but i think the incoming rookies (doohan, bearman, and antonelli if all goes well in monza next wk) will outdo him in under 10 races next season. its just unbearable to watch. great guy, mid driver at best!

mclaren dominance boring fans...whats new!!! norris is proving to be a better driver than ppl want to admit (esp now that he didnt fucking throw away a pole) and got 2 wins in a single season...ppl can say its the livery but checo has great livery and look at him 🤷‍♀️. not to mention how piastri has got to be one of this centurys most impressive rookies...srsly up there w hamilton and verstappen for me. his 4th place ending was pretty damn good considering how tough the top 5 competition was 🤭 oscar has the potential to be wdc and if ppl paid less attention to shitting on mv1, ln4, or talking shit about next yrs lineups and breaking news they would realize what a damn good generational talent we have on the grid rn!!!

all that shit talk abt the gap is so funny....admit u hate to see a team have good drivers AND livery! f1 fans will never b satisfied i swear 🤓🤓

(why was this rant so long omg 😭😭 guess i really did love this race wkend)

HARD AGREE. I’m so proud of the Ferrari boys. I just know taking that Ferrari is hard. But then I remembered Williams 😓😓

2. NO BECAUSE LOGAN OUT QUALIFYING CHECO MULTIPLE TIMES IN A FUCKING WILLIAMS IS CRAZY (ALONG WITH HOW MUCH EXPERIENCE CHECO HAS). I do think the rookies next year will bring in a good show and I can’t wait for that.

3. I will say it once and I’ll say it again. When it comes to Max and he gives his opinions, it’s funny because it’s “Mad Max” but once it’s Lando it’s him being a baby. This isn’t hate to Max AT ALL (i really do love him) but the double standard is quite insane to me. It just seems to me that Red Bull fans aren’t ready to let go and see the aren’t the top car this season.

4. OSCAR DEFINITELY HAS WDC POTENTIAL. He’s already been doing fantastic in just his second season. If i ever see him lift the WDC trophy, just know I will be sobbing. With the other rookies, They will perform good. I already know it.

5. YES YES YES. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS F1 FANS ARE NEVER SATISFIED. Whether it’s the fact we finally have a new race to the WDC, how a car is doing, or even the lineups. I’ve just decided to stay away from other F1 fans that aren’t from tumblr for this reason 😭😭 (ESPECIALLY INSTAGRAM. THE COMMENTS MAKE ME WANT TO RIP MY HAIR OUT)

ITS OKAY I LOVE A LITTLE YAP SESSION 🩷🩷 ITS SO FUN TO UNDERSTAND OPINIONS FROM OTHER PEOPLE 🥹

[cobraonthecob]

it's not something drive to survive started (though that show loves those narratives because that is drama central). sports have been looking for their next young talent since like forever (due to most sports being so physically demanding that if you are really talented, then you have to debut as a teen you likely have to stop your professional career in your mid 20s because your body can't keep up [or you could just have a mediocre career all your life or do it as a hobby, but that's boring], and that's assuming you're not in a sport like figure skating that breaks you in two years and dumps you for the next young talent [content warning/trigger warning for described state-sanctioned child abuse and eating disorders]) and motorsport isn't immune from it even if motorsport gives surviving drivers a very long career

anyways, the overall tl;dr is that if a rookie underperforms, they get dropped and find another motorsport discipline. most drivers who leave f1 usually go do endurance, indycar, nascar, formula e, or super formula. it's also a matter of being lucky enough to sign onto the right team at the right time: either you join a midfield team when they're great (like yuki in his debut year with the at02), or a midfield team who starts shit, but then figures their shit out (like mclaren in 2023 or liam when he got to reap the rewards of nyck's and yuki's contributions to upgrading the at04) during the course of the season or a strong team gets an extremely talented driver at the right time (lewis in his debut year beat fernando alonso on countback, five 2nd places to fernando's four, earning him p2 in his rookie year). sometimes the stars align for somebody really talented, and sometimes they're just like 'eh, you've got better things to do in this motorsport discipline here'

sebastian vettel joined the grid when he was 19 (in 2007), and then redbull got very invested in finding a young talent before the other teams did, and they struck gold with max (also because of max there was a rule in place to keep everyone under 18 out of an f1 team until toto really wanted his own max verstappen and found antonelli). the reason why there was a carousel of max teammate's after daniel left for renault was because redbull managed to start building cars that could really challenge for the WDC and WCC, and in order to snap up both, you can't put all your eggs in a max verstappen basket

you have to make sure the other driver can be a step above the other team's second drivers. in 2021, even though max was awarded the wdc, the wcc went to mercedes because valtteri was more successful at scoring higher points than checo. that's the interesting nature of formula 1, where it's two competitions in one where you have to be better than your teammate, but your teammate has to be better than another team's second driver

now the problem was, pierre just didn't mesh well with the car, and was dropped in favor of alex, a rookie who was doing better than kvyat (who was dropped for max, so it would make no sense to swap pierre for the guy redbull dropped for max). they gave alex a little bit longer time to adapt due to the fact that he was a rookie, but after 2020, with checo having lost his seat at racing point but with a race win where in the first lap he was p20, alex was dropped from the line-up as redbull realized that no one in their junior team was remotely ready (as yuki would be debuting in 2021) to handle the pressure of being max's teammate, and instead have been using checo since checo had been in the sport just as long as daniel had

with nyck (i'm assuming that's the nick you're referring to and not nicholas latifi), the issue was that he was a 28 year old f1 rookie who insisted he wasn't really a rookie and was primed to destroy yuki (which is old for athlete standards) only for everyone to find out that the at04 was the worst car at the start of 2023 alongside with daniel being seatless and making the prodigal son and coming back to redbull. now, i don't claim to fully know the details of what's going on behind the scenes, but daniel has stated that 'going back to redbull would be a fairy tale ending for his career' and there was no way redbull would just drop checo for a driver who got thrashed by a driver whose career started in 2019 vs daniel's 2011 (daniel was also paid millions not to drive for mclaren lol). so with a struggling 'not a rookie and i'm ready to thrash yuki tsunoda' nyck de vries and redbull wanting safety nets in place as checo's form dipped that season, they put daniel in until he broke his hand and liam stepped in and everyone went 'where the FUCK were you hiding this one????'

now vcarb's stuck in a dilemma for that second seat lmfao. you have daniel, whose career has been dipping since he left redbull (though he occasionally has flashes of the old daniel, where he has gotten a podium and a race win before that disastrous 2022 year) but he has been in the sport since 2011 and has been able to attract very strong sponsors (he's why we have that title of visa cashapp rb). but now you have liam, who scored p9 at a track he's never been at before, and one of the toughest tracks on the calendar, and is the new face of the grid

now the narrative is no longer keeping the older drivers, because if you venture onto social media, you will see an influx of people ask why drivers like valtteri or hulkenberg are still around (you are only as good as your last five races, even if you're a 10x grand prix winner or a consistent strong midfield driver, though this mentality is very absent when it comes to fernando, though i partially blame that on fans hating lance so much they actually do their research OR they are fernando fans and just want one more victory for fernando, so they turn all their hate onto lance when it comes to that other seat in aston martin). now fans push for more young talent, especially because there's a long line of f2 champs who didn't get a seat

or you're guanyu, who did get p3 in the standings in his graduate year and was unlucky to get the promotion over rookie champion oscar piastri (despite the fact that if oscar had a free shot at alfaromeo, he would currently be languishing in that paint can on wheels) and white fans have heart attacks over a person of color scrapping every bit of advantage they can get to make it to formula 1 (because guanyu moved to europe at 12/13 in order to even have a shot at the higher formulae). guanyu is now currently trying to get that cardboard box disguised as an f1 car onto the grid, and yet people are clamoring for theo pourchaire or whatever other sauber driver they have to be a part of sauber next year, even though valtteri is also struggling with this car. what a rookie is going to do is only get the fandom's ire when they can't resurrect a fossil

with logan, he was williams's top scoring junior driver in f2 (in his first and only f2 season, he was p4 in the standings) and with williams saying farewell to nicholas latifi and nyck de vries (disastrously) choosing alphatauri, williams chose to pull in one of their own academy drivers rather than felipe (who is part of aston martin's driver academy but is the champion of f2). williams's problem is that the car is pretty awful for a rookie to drive (2022's car was so bad that they only specialized in straightline speed, which is why that car was so successful at monza and nyck got extremely lucky that alex got appendicitis then + not at any other circuit, otherwise he probably would've been like jack aitken [stepped in for george who stepped in for lewis at sakhir 2020, didn't place anywhere near the points and has now moved onto other motorsport disciplines]), which is why you see alex and logan having weird crashes because their car was like 'this is too much, fuck everyone, bye'.

which becomes a nasty cycle: none of the top teams want to sign a rookie because they don't want to deal with expensive crashes and no big name sponsor to help foot the bill (i have not seen ferrari sign on a rookie and redbull literally has vcarb to dodge that problem), but that means the midfield teams have to be the ones to get rookies on the teams in the first place, even if that car is a trash can on wheels like the 2021 haas, 2022 williams, 2023 alphatauri, or the 2024 sauber. then, when rookies aren't performing well, it's off to the next rookie even if that rookie will do just as badly

I feel like I’m F1, when the teams see a younger driver that’s good there too eager to try and get them for the upcoming season and rush them into F1.

Also I feel like it’s been happening since when DTS came out. It happened with Pierre, Alex, Nick, Logan.

Maybe it’s just the pressure of trying to do so well because of how they did in the F2 and such, but F1 also comes with challenges that a tough🤷🏽‍♀️

So now, I’m kinda worried for these new drivers coming into F1 because if they don’t give their teams the results they want, what’s going to happen??

What’s y’all thoughts?

[letarasstuff]

Hold On

Summary: This is based on the song "Hold On" from Chord Overstreet. After weeks and months of arguments, hurtful words and pain Spencer's daughter is convinced that this is the only option for both's happiness.

Warnings: attempted suicide (not specified how), hospitals, angst, sad, hurtful words, mean Spencer in the beginning

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

Loving and fighting, accusing, denying I can't imagine a world with you gone

The last few weeks weren’t easy in the Reid household. There is not one day, where no loud screamed arguments are thrown through the entirety of the apartment.

“(Y/N), you have to see things from my point of view, too! My job is demanding and I can’t be there for every little competition you have”, Spencer tries to reason with his daughter.

“I have to see things from YOUR point?! Little competition?! DAD! This was the math olympics and, mind you and your busy schedule, it was not the ‘petty’ school round. I went against people from the WHOLE country! Just- I- Sometimes it would be nice to feel like I have a father caring for me for at least an hour. But I see, your job is more important than your child.”

Her father looks at her, speechless. He didn’t know how far she came in that competition. (Y/N) hasn’t said a thing, didn’t make a noise about it. How is he supposed to know all that then?

“Just because I’m a profiler doesn’t mean I’m able to read your mind. Just try and cut me some slack here, I- I need you to understand how important the things I do are. Can you try to be a little less ignorant, please?”

It feels like Spencer has punched her in the guts. For years (Y/N) backed down, knowing that her father’s work is in fact important. He is saving life for crying out loud, but is it really that selfish to ask for his attention every once in a while? Ever since she is basically able to be on her own it seems like he stopped caring for her.

“Ignorant? Oh Dad, you really are an amazing profiler”, the teenager says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “You know what? Try and profile that!” She begins to walk out of the living room, showing him the bird. Seconds later her door smashes into the lock.

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of I'd be so lost if you left me alone

Is he really that bad of a father?

When (Y/N) was born, he swore to himself to be the opposite of his own. Spencer wanted to be there for his daughter any time she wanted him to. School dances, spelling competition, kindergarten graduation, the whole nine yards.

But when was the last time they did something as a family. From cooking and eating dinner together nearly every night they went to occasionally seeing the other at the breakfast table before heading out.

Spencer understands her now. He is not better than his father at the moment. He just missed a big event in his daughter’s life and blames it on her. He called her ignorant, even though he is the one that didn’t pay attention. The oh so amazing profiler forgot to show his child that he loves her. That she is more important to him than anything in his life. He needs her in order to function, her love is the only thing that motivates him to do anything.

He knows he has to talk to (Y/N) about it, he was wrong and mean. Spencer just wants to give her time to cool off.

Meanwhile the teenager sits on her bed, staring at the wall. He did it again. He said these hurtful words. Tears stream down her face, but she is numb to them.

Everytime he calls her something, (Y/N) memorizes it. She doesn’t have an eidetic one, but when it’s about mean things, everybody has an elephant’s memory.

Ignorant.

Selfish.

Egoistic.

Childish. And many more.

And her father is right. She is all of the above and so much more.

Maybe he is better off without her. Better off without having to act like he cares for her.

She is a burden, she knows that. Her mother knew that from the beginning, why else would she have left them? Left her? Nobody’s life wouldn’t be better, if she isn’t in it anymore.

(Y/N) thought long and hard about this. Tonight just confirms her thoughts and boostes her decision.

Quietly she makes her way over to the bathroom, locking the door without making a noise. Hidden under towels is her little box. The contents she complained about using for so long.

You locked yourself in the bathroom Lying on the floor when I break through I pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

Twenty minutes have passed since (Y/N) smashed her door. Spencer hopes it is enough time for a teenager to cool off. He knocks on her door, waiting for an answer.

Nothing.

He tries again.

Nothing.

“Sweetheart? May I come in?”

The silence is louder than any gunshot he heard.

“Sweetheart, I want to apologize. May I open the door?”

Still nothing.

Spencer enters the room, finding it vacant. Oh of course, the moment he wants to talk with her she is in the bathroom. The Reids always had a thing for timing.

He knocks at the bathroom door. “Sweetheart, are you in there? Of course you are. Dumb question. I- I want to apologize. What I said wasn’t right and it was hurtful. Can- can you come out? There are a few things I have to make right.”

To his bewilderment there is no answer. No noises. A whole lot of nothing. This scares Spencer. “(Y/N), please say something. I care. I do. I love you, please answer me”, he desperately says.

Still no answer.

Spencer feels like he doesn’t have a different choice. He takes a step back and a deep breath, remembering what Derek taught him. With a loud crash he kicks the door open.

There she lies. His child. His daughte. The one human he promised to protect no matter what.

Her body lifeless, a small box next to her. Spencer identifies the contents immediately. His heart drops faster than he thought it to be possible.

In an instant he kneels next to (Y/N), pulling her in. His hands are shaking as he tries to take her pulse. “No no no no. NO! (Y/N), baby please open your eyes. Don’t leave me, no! You can’t do that, I love you, I love you so much. Don’t leave me, I need you!”

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

(Y/N) is in and out of consciousness. The dark seconds are terrifying to her. She regrets her choice.

In the seconds she is conscient, she hears a warm voice. The teenager feels safe now that it is there. At first the voice is quiet and blurry, but she is still able to catch a few words.

“Don’t” “Me” “Love you” “Much” “Need”

As her body finally slips away, she feels at ease. These words, it feels like lotion on her wounds. Because she also loves the voice and its person. She needs them like they need her.

Long endless highway, you're silent beside me Driving a nightmare I can't escape from Helplessly praying, the light isn't fading Hiding the shock and the chill in my bones

Spencer acts quickly. He knows his daughter doesn’t have much time left. He picks her up, trying to grab as many important things on his way out as possible. The genius runs to his car, hoping and praying to all the gods above that it will work after months of not using the vehicle. The motor does turn on to his relief.

The drive to the hospital feels longer than any roadtrip Spencer ever went on. The seconds tickle down and just like that (Y/N)’s chances. Chances of a happy ever after with him in her life, hopefully.

Not once does she move, her body looking more like a doll than a human being. Spencer just prays that it won’t be like this for long. He needs her, the light of his life. She can’t fade, she is not allowed to. It will break him. Darken his own light.

He has to be strong now. The glass is half full, the hospital only a few minutes away. (Y/N) will make it. Spencer doesn’t have any other option than that.

They took you away on a table I pace back and forth as you lay still They pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

“I need a doctor! A nurse! Somebody! My daughter, she-” Spencer screams, entering the ER with her lifeless body in his arms. He can’t end the sentence. But it’s also not necessary. A whole team of people crowd around the young man, one of them pulling a stretcher behind him.

Reluctantly Spencer lowers (Y/N) on it, knowing that he can’t do anything more. His child’s fate lies in the hands of the medical staff now. He has to trust them with her. With his lifeline.

One doctor takes her arm, trying to take a pulse. He shouts something, but Spencer’s ears are deaf to his words. Everything goes silent as they pull her away. Away from him.

He falls to his knees as reality hits him. He may not be a father any longer. And it’s his fault and his fault only.

“Please don’t leave me”, Spencer whispers.

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

Lights flash her. They hurt her eyes. But there is a greater pain (Y/N) can’t locate where it’s coming from. Where is her father? She needs him. She has to apologize. There are so many things she wants to say to him. To reassure him that she knows her decision was wrong.

As people continue to scramble around her, the pain intensifies. It becomes nearly unbearable and stops suddenly. The last thing she hears after a shrill high pitched tone is the voice of her father.

“I love you.”

I don't wanna let go I know I'm not that strong I just wanna hear you Saying, "Baby, let's go home" Let's go home Yeah, I just wanna take you home

“Family of (Y/N) Reid?” A doctor asks into the waiting room, looking exhausted. Spencer looks up from the floor. He memorized every little bump while pacing back and forth. He hasn’t called anybody. He doesn’t want to alarm then, not now. The young doctor needs time to understand what’s happening.

“Is she breathing?” is his first question. The doctor's face takes a pitiful look. “We stabilized her. But (Y/N) is still not through. We can’t say if she makes it through the night. If she does, we are sure she will be on a good way to a full recovery. Tonight will be critical for that. But (Y/N) showed us she is a fighter, maybe the chances aren’t that bad.”

Spencer is led through several halls to her room. He sits down in an uncomfortable hospital chair next to his daughter’s bed. Her hand is cold against his warm one. His are still shaking as he brushes a strand of her hair out of her face.

The only thing that Spencer wants right now is for (Y/N) to open her eyes and ask him to go home. He wants to take her there so desperately. But he can’t. Because he is the ignorant one.

“Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you, Sweetheart”, Spencer says, pressing a kiss onto her knuckles.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

@ellyhotchner

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Hello Mojo, hope you're doing well and that you had a good break! I wanted to signal boost the MDZS May Diaspora event collection on AO3, and point out my favorite fic from there: 归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by dragongirlG! It's both tender and bittersweet and it features such mature writing. The author got some hate for it when it initially got posted so I wanted to counter that and give it some love instead! [Who would do such a thing?!  @dragongirlg-fics I’m sorry that happened to you, and here, have *so many hugs!* I’ll try to do a thing just for the diaspora event, but meanwhile, I’ll just treat this as a follower rec.]

归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home

by dragongirlG (M, 8k, wangxian)

Summary:  The destruction of the Yin Tiger Seal does not kill Wei Wuxian; it ages him instead. He takes shelter in a cave expecting to die, but instead he lives, slowly learning to embrace life with each new day.

Thirteen years later, a young man with a Lan forehead ribbon stumbles into the cave. His name is Lan Sizhui.

~*~

Hi Momjo!!! I recently read the most *adorable* fic, and I loved it so much that it dragged me out of seclusion (read: social anxiety cave) to rec it. It's called 'Covered in Bees' by ScarlettStorm in which the Cloud Recesses is an apiary, and Wei Wuxian has suddenly found himself host to a swarm of bees. ~ @akyra-talanoa

Covered in Bees

by ScarlettStorm (T, 8k, wangxian)

Summary: “Cloud Reccesses Apiary,” says a toneless, deep masculine voice, with zero question in it. Wei Ying doesn’t care, because whoever possesses that voice is probably going to come save him from bees like a fucking hero while wearing like, a suit of armor. That’s what you wear to catch bees, right?

“I have like, so many bees outside my front door right now,” he says, mouth running out ahead of him before he can even begin to think about reining it in. “It’s like a sandstorm of bees out there. There are so many bees. I got out of my car and there were just bees and I don’t want these bees. Do you want these bees? Please tell me you will come get these bees. I can’t leave my house and I have enough food for maybe a week but then I’m gonna have to learn how to cook dry beans and no one wants that, especially not me.” Wei Ying runs out of air, takes a breath, and belatedly adds, “My name is Wei Ying. Hi.”

Or: The beekeeping AU that no one asked for.

~*~

Hi, you are a bless to this fandom. Your blog feels like a library, so thoroughly arranged and always within hand reach. [Thank you, wow!]  Recently, I was going through Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn is a Wēn tag and came across a fanfic, it has 3 chapters till now and is so intriguing that i thought to recommend it to you. I don't know if I can recommend or if you have already checked the story, The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon by Devipriya. I am in love with this story. I hope you will enjoy it too, do check it out

The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon

by Devipriya (T, 7k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wen Wuxian, the essence of who he is, he is a naughty child, a prankster, an enchanting dizi player, a graceful dancer, an irresistible lover, a truly valiant warrior, a ruthless vanquisher of his foes, a man who left a broken heart in every home, an astute statesman and kingmaker, a thorough gentleman, a righteous individual of the highest order, and the most colorful incarnation.

He has been seen, perceived, understood and experienced in many different ways by different people. Different people saw different facets of who he is. For some, he is God. For some, he is a crook. For some, he is a lover. For some, he is a fighter. He is so many things.

But the phoenix, seen from the eyes of time was just a playful man. A man who plays with his awareness, with his imagination, with his memory, with his life, with his death. An individual who does not just dance with somebody. He dances with life. He dances with his enemy, He dances with the one he loves, He dances even at the moment of his death.

To taste an essence of who is Wen Wuxian, be with me in the journey of exploration, NO! playful exploration of life of a playful man.

~*~

Hi! Thanks for running this blog, it's helped me find so many fics. For your next follower recs post, I wanted to rec "This love like a flood, a fire, a fear" by natcat5. Its summary is vague (which I suspect is why it isn't better known) but it is a beautiful retelling of canon from LWJ's POV with slight canon divergence. I love the author's characterization of him and the prose is gorgeous. It is easily my favorite fic in the entire fandom, and I don't say that lightly. ~ @nyanja14

This love like a flood, a fire, a fear

by natcat5 (M, 57k, wangxian, lan wangji & lan xichen)

Summary:  “I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.”   - Lemony Snicket

~*~

i came to this ask to rec this baseball one called "Waiting for Spring" by thievinghippo on ao3. It somehow made me care about baseball soooo 'nough said ~ @scifikimmi

Waiting for Spring

by thievinghippo (E, 131, wangxian)

Summary:  “It is a well-known fact across the major leagues that one does not smack Lan Wangji’s ass.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. Everyone smacks everyone’s ass in baseball. It’s how the game is played. Lan Wangji does not get to be exempt from this most sacred of baseball traditions.

Wei Wuxian will make sure of that.

Or, a Major League Baseball AU

~*~

hi mojo! i wanted to rec Something Good by boxoftheskyking (a loose sound of music/canon divergence au) and also MDZS: The Golden Engine by iffervescent (immortal wangxian modern au where they gotta solve a mystery and save china, featuring jiang cheng/lan xichen)

Something Good

by boxoftheskyking (T, 43k, wangxian)

Summary:  "That Wei Wuxian, you know he used to be such a promising cultivator. Head Disciple of the Jiang Clan, can you believe it? You see, juniors, the punishment for traveling the path of demonic cultivation. No golden core, not so much as a whisper of spiritual power."

As a punishment for real and imagined crimes, Wei Wuxian is sentenced to work at Cloud Recesses as the lowest of servants. When a surprising reassignment lands him with eleven children to care for, everything changes again.

A Sound of Music AU

MDZS: The Golden Engine

by iffervescent (E, 82k, wangxian, xicheng)

Summary:  In the modern era, immortals Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian return to Gusu. New evil and old friends + new friends and old evils.

~*~

Hi Mojo! First of all let me just tell you that you are amazing and this blog is like a gift from the gods! Bless you and your endless patience and hard work. [Oh, thank you so much!]  I know that you have just accepted follower recs and I have missed miserably but I still wanted to write and bring attention to a writer by the pseudo Xiao_Hua on ao3, I think they are quite good and I just recently found the account with so much content. If you do have the time to check them out, I'd rec catfish, my fox or the red ribbon.

The Red Ribbon

by Xiao_Hua (M, 21k, wangxian, TGCF crossover)

Summary:  Wei WuXian died but not before saving HanGuang-Jun and A-Yuan, leaving so much more behind than just his ribbon.

My Fox

by Xiao_Hua (E, 13k, wangxian)

Summary:  Once he headed to YiLing that all changed for him. His priorities have been mingled with and ordered in complete disarray even without him noticing as he was left heavily influenced by a creature.

Or one where Lan WangJi is a dragon-spirit and he finds his mate in the form of a fox.

Catfish

by Xiao_Hua (E, 15k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wei WuXian has a common sense that believes it has a nine-to-five job while Lan WangJi finds that incredibly hot.

Or one where two catfish realise that neither of them truly catfished.

~*~

Hi Mojo i'm recommending this amazing fic it is called song of joys and regrets. it's a time travel AU it's amazing. And your Blog is a Godsend Thank you! [Aw, you’re so sweet!]  ~ @highgoddess

Song of Joy and Regrets

by HelloKitten (not rated, 59k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  The Archery competition at Qishan this year has hit a snag. As the Sects face the wrongs perpetrated by their future selves, Wei Wuxian finds himself adopted by half of the cultivation world who are determined to save him from himself.

Baby Wangxian suffers. Adult Wangxian's job here is done.

"I'm starting to see a pattern to all his plans..." "Do they all involve him being bait?" "Yes" came deadpanned responses.

~*~

Here’s a 2021 Reverse Big Bang entry, in time for Father’s Day; [Oops, my bad, sorry!]  Under a Blanket of Black Wings, by ChaoticAndrogynous (#31398395); LWJ, recuperating from the 33 lashes, tells A-Yuan a series of fairytales about a heroic monster and the brave little boy he befriended. Vampire! WWX (in the framing story as well as the story-within-the-story); happy ending.

Under a Blanket of Black Wings

by ChaoticAndrogynous (T, 19k, wangxian)

Summary:  Lan Wangji tells A-Yuan a bedtime story about a beautiful monster and the brave little boy who was his friend. Thirteen years later, the monster returns.

~*~

Hello Mojo! Have you read ‘Key Differences’ by Pupeez4eva? Its a MDZS!WWX meets CQL!WWX and its really good! [It’s on my list!]

Key Differences

by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian)

Summary:  “I don’t understand,” Wei Wuxian said, while his alternate self continued to stare at him with almost a look of hurt in his eyes. There was longing in there too, which Wei Wuxian would have easily recognised if he paid enough attention. “How could you not get together, after everything. What even went on in the Guanyin Temple if you didn’t confess?”

“The Guanyin Temple,” Wei Ying repeated incredulously. “You’re asking me if I confessed at — honestly, a lot went on that day. It was a life and death situation. There was no confessing.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him, appalled.

(Wherein Wei Wuxian ends up meeting an alternate version of himself who, much to his horror, never married Lan Wangji. Obviously he has to do something to fix this).

~*~

Hey Mojo i would recommend this fanfic if you already haven’t, it’s called “ take me back to a time “ by DizziDreams. It’s sooooo good

take me back to a time

by DizziDreams (T, 144k, wangxian, 3zun)

Summary:  Wei Ying has a lot on his plate right now.

It’s finals week -- which isn’t so bad. He’s never had to study much to do well in classes. But that just means that things are that much more tense with Jiang Cheng, who, as far as Wei Ying can tell, only takes study breaks long enough to glare at Wei Ying where he sits on the couch playing video games.

It’s not studies that have Wei Ying stressed out. It’s everything else. It’s the recruitment for the research trial he’s coordinating. It’s jiejie and her impending marriage to His Royal Douchebag Jin Zixuan. It’s the volunteer work at the palliative care facility. It’s Wen Ning’s worsening condition. It’s Wen Qing working herself thin to care for her brother and Wen Yuan. It’s the way Wen Yuan never seems to have enough food.

So, yeah. There’s enough on Wei Ying’s plate already, meaning it’s not entirely welcome when he comes home and finds a man standing in his bedroom. A man in extravagant white robes, a ribbon tied around his forehead, long hair gathered into a topknot, fist clutching a sword at his side, who asks him, “Where am I?”

~*~

Idk if this has already been rec’d (I’ve been off the grid for a while now), but there’s this absolutely incredible fic called Restitution by an anon on ao3 people should definitely check out!

this one?

on restitution

by Anonymous (M, 78k, wangxian, jin ling & wei wuxian, lan sizhui & wei wuxian, WIP)

Summary:  When Wei Wuxian regains consciousness, he is in a bed. A real, proper bed, not the slab he called a bed in his cave in the Burial Mounds.

Jiang Cheng is glowering above him.

Wei Wuxian doesn't die during the siege of the Burial Mounds. Rather, he is captured in secret and confined at Lotus Pier. Things change accordingly.

~*~

Hi momjo! I feel like every time I come to your blog there's twenty more new and amazing fics for me to read. Thank you for everything you do for this fandom!  [Thank you, sweetie!  And yes, I think there ARE 20 new fics every day out there in the fandom.  It’s amazing!] Today I come bearing my own rec to you. I've recently read this and it's IMO one of the best fics out there. It's called Lapsteel by carriecmoney and it's a modern stormchaser AU featuring country songs and coming home. ~ @manaika-chan​

Lapsteel

by carriecmoney (T, 42k, wangxian)

Summary:  Now and then, I think about you now and then...

It's been thirteen years since Wei Ying ran for the prairies, leaving behind a family in shambles and a secret on the Pacific wind. What happens when the storm he swirled catches up to him?

Modern AU with country music star Lan Zhan, stormchaser Wei Ying, and shared crossroads.

~*~

[jjmorelikeotp]

What thing? What type?

Seongjoong college au?? Ft. Wooyoung; ONESHOT 😚 no warnings, humor ig

Yeah idk where that came from, I'm in my seongjoong feelz, mingi is back, I love woo, anyways besties enjoyyyyy ✌ also just in case anyone is still waiting for the promised minsung au! It is in the making!

"I cannot believe they've put all of that into one exam!", Wooyoung cries out, knuckles turning white around the strings of his backpack."Like, what am I - a robot?!"

"Maybe if you started studying earlier, you wouldn't have that much stress now."

"Nobody ever does that!"

They're on their way from the student dorms to Hongjoong's apartment - not for the first time, but this time, Seonghwa's car is standing in the parking lot.

"Oooh", Wooyoung makes. Your hot roomie finally home for once?"

"God, I wish I never told you that."

"But you diiiid", the younger cheers, wrapping his arm around Hongjoong's neck only to pull him down with his full body weight, making him groan.

With work, university and producing his tracks, the dorms weren't an option for Hongjoong anymore. Too loud, too smelly, too...first semester vibey. So, he saved up, worked through vacations and even during normal periods - and voila. His own, tiny, little room, a living room, a CLEAN bathroom he doesn't have to share with 727272 people, simply put : heaven. Sure, he might be a little tighter on budget now, but at least he was able to remain his sanity, and that's a win.

The apartment is not that cheap; sharing it makes it easier. And with Seonghwa, a business major in his 3rd year, it was a good catch.

He's nice, friendly, tidy - too tidy if you ask Hongjoong, especially when he is bitching about the coffee mugs in the sink, like, who the hell cares - but he is also very, very pretty, and caring, and that, ladies and gentlemen, isn't a good thing, at least not to his heart because he is - well, in some cases of being near him, and especially when Seonghwa smells good, becomes - the definition of a useless gay.

That's how bad it actually is, but luckily, only Yunho knows that.

For the rest of his friends, the older is just known as "hot".

Which is also very, very true.

"Hey!", Hongjoong shouts, tossing his keys onto the shelf next to the door.

Seonghwa is busy watering the plants. "Ah, hey! How was your scenery project?"

"Good, good!"

"What, this is it?", Wooyoung hisses, taking off his jacket. He pinches the older's waist. "If I called your storyboarding a scenery project you would have behaded me."

"Well you are a brat", Hongjoong whispers back, to which the younger only rolls his eyes, only to add a louder "brought someone with me today. Seonghwa, this is Wooyoung."

"HEEEYYYY", Wooyoung gives him a wave and earns a chuckle. "Nice to finally meet you, you know, Hongjoong always talks about his infamous roommate."

I'm going to kill that kid.

"Ah, really?" Seonghwa shoots him a glance, and he can't read an expression from it before it's already gone. "He talks about his friends too." Hee points at Woo with the water in his hands. "I'm guessing you are the loud one?"

"He is", Hongjoong quickly states before the younger has enough time to answer. "And you're just here to pick some notes up, c'mon. I got things to do."

With that, he pulls him into his room.

"What, you're not even inviting me for dinner?", Wooyoung says fifteen minutes later as he is getting dragged out by his friend.

"Exactly. You're a vaccuum when it comes to food, and I'm broke."

"You're mean, that's what you are-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're gonna survive it."

He somehow managed to get the boy into door-and-floor-space; he knows how long it can take to get him actually past the frame.

"Now go home and study. And use the notes!"

"You know I would be better off if you helped me study!"

"I got my own stuff to do."

"We could study together."

"I will clean my desk now. Go ask San!"

He sighs at the whine the younger lets out.

"Yah, hyung, you're really no fun. You don't even care about me or my grades."

"I literally just gave you all my notes."

"Yeah, but you got a monster brain and I don't understand them-"

A soft giggle makes them both turn around.

Seonghwa is done with the plants - he now seems to be cleaning the dining table, and for that, he's taken off his hoodie.

The tshirt he's wearing is white, a perfect match to his skin. His tan, muscular arms flex lightly at his movements.

"Huh." Wooyoung stares for a moment, tilting his head.

"Hongjoong hyung?"

"Hm?"

"You know the thing...you told me earlier?"

"The thing? I-what thing?"

"That thing."

"Oh. Yeah. Let me guess. You get my point now?"

"Definetely. Yeah."

Hongjoong leans onto Wooyoung's shoulder with one arm.

Four eyes are on Seongwha, who is painfully oblivious, probably not even listening. He's holding a can in his hands.

"Juice, anyone?"

"He's kinda like a mum. You're kinda like a mum, Seonghwa."

"I-what?"

"That's his way of giving somebody nicknames, I think. Either that or he's got both mommy and daddy issues. He told me I sound like a dad-"

He coughs away the pain as the younger smacks his stomach; for a moment, Seonghwa's eyes are on him.

"You know, hyung, I agree with you", Wooyoung says right before he's out the door, getting his revenge. "Your roommate is hot, you were right about that."

Snitch.

Hongjoong, however, did not expect anything less. He deals with it the way he always deals with pretty boys : joking about it until it hurts because he doesn't stand a chance anyway, vibing in the frequency of an awkward wave.

Hakuna matata.

"I know I am - I'm always right!", he shouts after the younger friend although the door is already closed.

Just be shameless, nobody knows you're dying of embarassment until you show it.

And maybe he is a little competitive as well. Maybe.

He doesn't even look at the older; he plays it off with a soft chuckle, focusing his attention back on his desk that, he must admit, looks like a battle field of supplies. Brushes, pencils, notes, papers, folders - a cup of coffee here, a computer mouse there. Sweet sweet college life.

It's quiet around him, nothing unusual, Seonghwa is a calm person after all. If he's honest, Hongjoong is glad to have found a roommate like him. (If only he wasn't so handsome that it's hard, like, really hard, to focus. He can't complain though.)

The weird knot in his chest forces him to go against his anxiety and look up. He meets Seonghwa's eyes immediately.

Again.

"What?", he asks, breathing out a laugh that - he hopes sincerely - doesn't sound nervous.

"He just gave you a compliment, that's Wooyoung for you."

"Mhm", Seonghwa makes.

"Aw, are you getting shy? Don't you know how to handle a compliment?"

A light hint of pink appears on the older's cheeks, which is weird because at the same time, he's furrowing his brows. Hongjoong wishes he didn't enjoy teasing him so much.

(Spoiler alert: not really.)

"What? No-"

He grins.

Cute.

He might be smiling through the pain when it comes to the next comment, but hey - Nobody has to know. (How would they know?)

"Is it because he's pretty? Is he your type?"

That's how you do it. Just drop hints and make him date another dude, to cope with the fact that you might develope an unhealthy crush on your roommate and don't stand a chance.

Hah!

But who would do such a thing, not Hongjoong.

Obviously.

"He's a really great guy", he cheerfully adds, focusing on his organization again. "A little loud, but maybe that's a match. I could totally set you guys up."

He doesn't even know what paper he has in his hands.

"Well, yeah", a deep voice suddenly murmurs in his ear and he nearly jumps.

Seonghwa is standing right in front of him.

"You could do that...but", he inhales softly, grabbing a pastel pink pen from the tornado of chaos Hongjoong calls his work place. It's got a little plastic strawberry on its tip.

"He's not really my type."

And then, almost like a whisper, and a lot closer to his ear, he just says: "You are."

And then he leaves, letting Hongjoong alone in the living room, with the words "I think that's my pen, thanks", and Hongjoong just stares at the wall.

[adiwriting]

Sunday Mornings 6/?

Notes: Because I feel like these two fluff muffins would playfully bicker about whose more romantic, but they certainly would be competitive with other couples... Shout out to @cosmicclownboy​ for the inspiration. 

Week 6: 

If Michael is being honest, he wasn’t sold on the idea at first. When Alex had woken him up at 5am, telling him to grab his shoes and meet him at the car, Michael hadn’t been thrilled. After all, 5am is incredibly early for his day off and he’d been really looking forward to sleeping in. But now that they have arrived, Michael has to admit, he’s coming around. 

After all, being driven out to the middle of the desert, to the same spot that they used to come to when they were kids, just to watch the sunrise together? It’s a pretty smooth move. A move made even more romantic when Alex reveals that he’s packed breakfast for the two of them. 

Michael pulls down the tailgate as Alex grabs a blanket to spread out over the bed of the truck. Just like old times. 

“You know, you don’t have to work so hard to get laid,” he teases as he helps Alex climb into the back. He’s careful to send him a wink though to let him know that he very much appreciates the effort. 

“You’re welcome.” His smile is big and unguarded. It has Michael rocking back on his heels. 

Fuck. He’s seriously the most attractive person in the entire world. Looking at him when he’s like this always catches Michael’s breath. He still doesn’t understand how he’s finally being allowed this after all the shit he’s done, but he’s not going to fight it. 

Michael shakes his head clear and crawls up after him. Alex is already lounging attractively, arms open, inviting Michael to join him. He wastes no time snuggling up beside him. They lay there like that, Michael with his head on Alex’s shoulder, staring up at the few remaining stars they can still see as the sky turns a light blue. Sunrise is nearing. 

“Did I miss an anniversary or something?” Michael asks after several minutes. 

“Can’t I just want to do something romantic for my boyfriend?” Alex asks. 

Michael rolls onto his stomach and puts his arms on Alex’s chest before resting his head against them. “You can. I was just curious what inspired this?” 

“It’s nothing,” Alex says in a way that means it’s most certainly something. Michael stares at him until he continues. “It’s just something stupid Rameriz said to me the other day.” 

“Rameriz? That douchey sergeant who works the gate?” 

Alex nods. 

“What the fuck did he have to say?” Michael asks, silently thinking that whatever it was, he probably still owes him a beer for getting Alex to plan all of this. 

“He was talking to the guys, trying to get advice for this romantic anniversary he’s planning, and then made a joke that I didn’t have to worry about that stuff because I’m dating a guy,” Alex said. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. But it annoyed me.” 

Michael sits up. “What because we’re two dudes, we can’t be romantic?” 

Alex sits up to join him. “Apparently,” he says with a deep sigh. 

Alex rolls his eyes and Michael finds he’s just as annoyed. “Did you tell him that we’re like romance goals?” 

Alex snorts. “Romance goals?” He quirks his eyebrow at Michael, teasing him and damn, Michael just wants to tackle him and have his way with him… but that will have to wait. 

“I don’t know,” he says, ducking his head to hide a blush. “That’s what Isobel calls us.” 

“Good,” Alex replies, and Michael looks up to see him puffing out his chest a bit. “I’m glad somebody appreciates a decent love story.” 

“Decent?” Michael scoffs. “What happened to cosmic?” 

“I just… If I have to hear about Liz and Max and their stupid handprint story one more time, I’m going to scream,” Alex says.

Michael is about to agree, because he has noticed that Max has a tendency to talk about his relationship like it’s the end all and be all. As if he’s the only one that found his soulmate in high school and spent ten years pining… Then Alex’s words click. 

“Do you want a handprint?” he asks, seriously. 

“No,” Alex says instantly then pauses, actually thinking about it. The tension in his body relaxes and he reaches out for Michael’s hands. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he says much softer this time. “If you ever decided that was something that you wanted to share with me, I would 100% welcome your handprint on me. Because there’s not a single part of you that I don’t welcome. What I meant was… I don’t need it. We fell in love without all of that. When Liz or Max tell me that story, I don’t get jealous, because I know and see all of you without any handprint. And I know you see me too.” 

Michael smiles at that. He feels the same way. He’s sure one day, he’ll try it with Alex just to see how it feels. But the truth is, he’s never done it with Alex because it always seemed like a crutch. Max used his handprint with Liz to show her how he felt about her because he couldn’t say the words. Most of his problems with Alex have stemmed from an inability to communicate, and if he wants this to work, he’s determined not to take any shortcuts. 

“You know, Max is always asking Isobel how to win back Liz,” Michael explains. “I’ll be sitting right there and he won’t even think to ask me about it, even though, between Iz and I, I’m clearly more likely to have advice on winning back your soulmate after you’ve messed up.” 

“That’s because everyone thinks all we do is fuck,” he says, dragging over the cooler he’d packed to start pulling food out. 

“I mean, we do fuck a lot… but that’s not all we do,” Michael argues. 

“Yeah, I don’t think they believe either of us can be romantic though,” he says. “They look at us and see a repressed airman and…” Alex waves his hand over Michael, searching for the right word to describe Michael. 

“Sex god?” Michael teases, earning him a shocked laugh. 

“I was gonna go with emotionally stunted cowboy with too much swagger, but that comment probably says enough.” Alex glares at him playfully.  

Over Alex’s shoulder, Michael catches the first glimpse of sunrise as the horizon lights up a bright orange. Michael nods towards it. “We gonna watch this thing?” 

Alex spins around on the spot to face the sunrise and Michael pulls Alex back against his chest and hugs him from behind, hooking his chin over his shoulder. 

“Anyone that thinks you can’t do romance, is an idiot,” Michael tells him, kissing the side of his neck as the sun slowly paints the sky vivid shades of red and orange, making Alex’s skin just glow. 

Alex smiles at him over his shoulder before turning back around, resting his head against Michael’s shoulder. 

“This may be more romantic than the first time you took me to look at the stars when we were kids.” Michael doesn’t need to see Alex’s face to know that he’s looking smug. 

“Mmmm,” he hums in agreement. He may find Alex’s confidence sexy as hell, but he certainly can’t allow it. Because this morning has been pretty impressive, but Michael has had some pretty smooth moments himself. 

“Well it’s more romantic than me taking you to see the stars, but less romantic than when I surprised you at the airport after your first tour,” he points out, playfully pinching Alex’s side, earning him a laugh. 

“I’ll take your airport surprise and raise you a love note slipped into your wallet before my second tour,” Alex says. 

And, yeah. That’s fair. It had taken Michael a few days to find it once Alex had left, but damn… It had been a hell of a note. Michael still has it in his wallet to this day. Those ten years hadn’t been great, but that doesn’t mean that they haven’t had some truly brilliant moments. 

“No no no. See, I bought an airstream so you could come home on leave and not have to see your father,” he argues, enjoying messing with Alex, mostly because Alex was always super competitive. “I win the romance game.” 

Alex scoffs. “You bought an airstream so you wouldn’t have to sleep in a truck.” 

“I bought an airstream so you wouldn’t have to sleep in my truck,” Michael says. 

Alex sits up and looks at him with narrowed eyes, trying to see if that’s the truth or not. Michael continues to smile at him, refusing to give anything away. Alex eventually huffs. 

“Let’s just agree that we’re both awesome,” he says, grabbing some of the fruit he’d packed before settling back in against Michael. 

“Is that Alex Manes for ‘fine you win?’” 

Alex laughs. “You’re a real jackass.” 

“Your jackass,” he says, stealing the strawberry from Alex’s hand and eating it himself. 

Alex huffs. “There’s literally more strawberries right next to you,” he complains. 

“It tastes better when it’s yours,” he says, repeating the same argument Alex always makes whenever he steals Michael’s coffee. Alex glares at him for a minute and Michael just smiles back sweetly until Alex’s face relaxes and he melts back into him. 

They sit there for several more minutes in silence as the sun seems to settle and the sky returns to a more natural blue, all traces of red and orange gone. Even then, Alex doesn’t move and Michael has no plans to make him. They eat their breakfast in comfortable silence, Michael stealing Alex’s food every so often and Alex randomly bringing their joined hands up to place kisses at the back of Michael’s hand. 

They have nowhere to be and no reason to rush. 

At some point Alex starts humming a song Michael doesn’t recognize, which probably means that it’s the secret song he’s been writing for the last week. The song that Michael isn’t allowed to ask about but will get to hear with everyone else at the next open mic night. 

If there is such a thing as a perfect moment, this is it. He suddenly feels the need to immortalize this morning, even though he really isn’t much of a ‘document the moment’ kind of guy. 

“Do you really wanna piss the heteros off?” Michael asks. 

“What?” Alex sounds resigned, but Michael knows him well enough to know that he’s already agreed without needing to hear whatever Michael is about to say, and he loves that about Alex. He reaches into his pocket and hands Alex his phone. 

Alex smiles at him in understanding, taking the phone from him. He types Michael’s password in and he opens up the camera app and holds it out in front of him, careful to include both of them in the frame as well as their picnic.

“Ready?” 

Michael nods and at the last second, as Alex is taking the photo, Michael kisses Alex’s cheek. 

And that’s how, twenty minutes later, they both end up updating their social media for the first time in over a year talking about love, surprises, and sunrise meals. #RelationshipGoals. 

Tagged: @callieramics​​

As always if anyone wants to be tagged, let me know!

[kpopfanfictrash]

The Monogamy Monologues (Preview)

Status: Currently writing

Posting Date: February 7th (tentative)

Creative Contributor: @underthejoon​ for this lovely banner!

Genre: Rom-Com / Humor / Smut

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend. (Part of The Rich Man’s Crochet Club series)

Estimated WC: 40K

Rating: 18+

Preview: 2,088

“JIMIN!”

“JEON!” Waving wildly, Jimin flags Jungkook down as he steps off the escalator.

There are still several people between them, but none of them prove to be a match for Jungkook. Dodging them easily – spinning, at one point around a family of five – Jungkook dramatically runs towards the exit.

“JIMIN-SSI!” he yells. “I’M COMING!”

Jimin rolls his eyes at the display. “Get your ass over here, Jeon! Sorry,” he apologizes to the same family of five.

Although the mother shoots them both a dirty look, she hurries her kids towards the Taxi stand and does not look back. Jimin opens his arms just as Jungkook crashes into his chest.

Lowering his cheek to Jimin’s hair, Jungkook closes his eyes to whisper, “I think you got shorter.”

“Fuck off,” Jimin grunts, shoving him away before laughing.

Jungkook grins. “Anyways,” he says, slinging an arm about Jimin’s neck. “Are you ready for the best weekend of our lives?”

With a good-natured shake of his head, Jimin leads Jungkook out of the terminal. Always the excellent host, Jimin actually parked his car at the airport and walked inside to greet him. Jungkook cannot remember the last time his family did that for him, let alone a friend.

“Ready to assist Namjoon, you mean?” Jimin gives Jungkook a look. “You know – on his wedding day?”

“Yeah, yeah. That.” The moment they step outside, Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Ahh,” he groans, slowly exhaling. “You smell that, Jimin?”

“Car exhaust?”

“No. Lack of humidity.”

Jimin snorts, striding forward when the crosswalk turns green. “Still not sold on Miami?”

Jungkook opens one eye. “Miami’s fine,” he says automatically, following Jimin as they enter the garage.

Over his shoulder, the garment bag keeps banging his ass. As much as Jungkook hoped this would keep his suit from wrinkling, it is looking more and more like he will need an iron.

Not believing a word Jungkook says, Jimin raises a brow. “If you say so.”

As they reach the next aisle, Jungkook takes in deep gulps of air. Jimin shakes his head at his antics, but Jungkook could not care less. This city always smells like home to him. When they reach Jimin’s car, though – a sensible, gray Subaru – Jungkook’s feet falter.

“What happened to Liz?” he blurts, taken aback by the trade.

Liz was their college nickname for Jimin’s car, stemming from the infamous Liz Lemon of 30 Rock. So dubbed because Jimin’s old car was a complete piece of crap – a lemon, from the time he drove it off the lot.

Jimin pauses, flipping the keys in one hand. “Traded it in,” he says stiffly, pulling open the door. “Too many memories.”

Realizing what Jimin means, Jungkook winces. He had nearly forgotten about the break-up. Granted, it has been almost four months since Jimin and Olivia called it quits, but the two had been dating since college. Slightly longer than Namjoon and his fiancée.

Whereas Namjoon and his fiancée grew closer after University though, Jimin and Olivia were the opposite. Jimin graduated summa cum laude with an acceptance to one of the top medical schools in the country. His painful notetaking really paid off, as Namjoon was wont to say. When he moved to Chicago and began med school in earnest, Olivia left for New York to join a consulting company.

With their busy schedules and early twenties lives, the two drifted apart. Jimin was the one who held on, not wanting to end things with the first girl he loved. It was only when he surprised Olivia in New York over Valentine’s Day he realized it was over. Not that Olivia was cheating on him, or anything – maybe it would have been easier if she were. At least then, there would be somebody to blame.

No, Jimin merely realized they did not fit anymore. Olivia had her friends and interests; he had his and the two no longer meshed. Without realizing it, they had both reached a fork in the woods and turned down different paths.

Ever since their break-up, the chat has been wary of even mentioning her name.

Jungkook glances hesitantly at his profile. “You okay, man?” he asks as they enter the car. Tossing his duffle bag over the backseat, he prays it does not land on his suit.

“Okay?” Jimin places the car in reverse. “Could be better, I guess. Could be worse.”

Jungkook nods as they pull from the spot. Slouched in his seat, he stares out the window because in times like this, he is useless. When it comes to matters of the heart, Jungkook considers himself to be woefully inept.

“Sorry man,” he says quietly. A car honks in response as they get on the highway. “Wish I could say we always hated her, but you know that’s not true.”

Jimin snorts from the driver’s seat. “Yeah, I know. I can’t really bring myself to say that, either.”

“Well, maybe you two will –”

“No. We won’t.”

Seeing Jimin’s face, Jungkook shrugs and resumes looking out the window.

After a minute, Jimin exhales. “So, how’s Miami really going?”

Jungkook’s head whips sideways to face him.

The corner of Jimin’s mouth lifts. “Thought you hid it well, huh?”

“Better than five minutes into the car ride, yeah.”

“Well, you don’t.”

Jungkook snorts. “Miami is… fine. I don’t know. It’s not really Miami I have a problem with.”

“Your job, then?”

“Yeah, and… I don’t know. Everything.”

“Be a little more vague.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch. “I just…” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “It was so much simpler in college, you know? Things were difficult, but it all had an end date. Right? Get through four years, and you’re done. I’m starting to realize… this doesn’t have an end date.”

Jimin’s lips purse at the road. “The end date is whenever you want it to be, JK.”

“I guess,” Jungkook grumbles, slouching lower in the seat. Any further, and he might slip off the edge. “But then I’d have to admit that I failed. That I spent eight fucking years of my life either in this job, or working towards it. What was the point if I quit?”

“What’s the point of spending another eight years doing something you hate?”

Jungkook stubbornly chews the inside of his cheek, knowing Jimin is right. The problem is, though – even if he quits, Jungkook has no idea what to do. Sure, he likes photography, but the field is competitive as hell. Jungkook wants to do something he loves, but he also wants to succeed. Taking such a massive leap terrifies him.

“Let’s talk about something else,” he mumbles, turning to Jimin.

Although Jimin arches a brow, he reluctantly lets the subject go. “Sure. Let’s talk instead about how Seokjin is bringing a date to the wedding.”

“Seokjin?” Jungkook’s brows shoot so far up, they near-disappear. “Who?”

“Some girl from LA.”

“No shit,” Jungkook exhales, slowly shaking his head. “Wow. We’re all settling down, huh? Soon, it’ll just be you and me, Jimin,” he grins, leaning over to punch Jimin in the arm.

The wheel jerks at the action, swerving them towards the next lane. “Hey!” Jimin blurts, straightening them out with a scowl. “At least I dated someone during the past five years, Jeon. Who’ve you been seeing?”

“No comment.”

“Huh. I don’t remember her. Was she the blonde?”

“Shut up,” Jungkook laughs, reaching out for the stereo. As the latest pop song fills the car, he pointedly stares out the window.

Jimin smiles, shaking his head. Namjoon’s wedding is being held in the city. His fiancée’s father is some big shot at a downtown law firm. From what Jungkook has gathered, the ceremony spiraled from a small, romantic affair into one of the biggest events of the season.

Jungkook’s lip quirks. That is how you know Namjoon’s fiancée’s family is rich. They use phrases like event of the season and christen their yachts with only the most expensive champagne. Having been to several yacht-christenings in Miami, Jungkook has never understood the event. What is the point of buying something expensive, only to ruin it?

Actually, maybe that is the point.

Pushing Miami from mind, Jungkook stares at the highway as they drive towards the city. The wedding has taken on a mind of its own, according to Namjoon. So detailed, so elaborate, they were forced to hire a wedding planner. Jungkook can only imagine Namjoon, micro-manager to the extreme, being forced to trust someone else with his life.

It has been a while since Jungkook last visited Chicago. Namjoon’s family is from here, and whenever they visited in college, they always had a great time. His mom sent them off each morning with fresh fruit and eggs – it was sweet; reminded Jungkook of home.

The familiar skyline arching above brings a smile to his lips. All in all, Jimin and Hoseok do not realize how lucky they are. If Jungkook lived here, he would – cutting the thought off, Jungkook sits up in his seat. Jungkook does not live here, so there is no point pretending.

Glancing down at his phone, Jungkook feels a modicum of guilt. After placing himself in airplane mode, he has not turned the device back on since he landed. Jungkook knows there will be a fresh wave of texts from his boss and for now, wishes to delay the inevitable.

“Where’s the wedding again?” Jungkook asks, turning his head.

Jimin shrugs as he rolls down his window. The night wind ruffles his hair, sending strands flying all over the place. “Some hotel by the river. Hear it has a great view.”

“And what’s the plan for the weekend?”

“Jungkook!” Jimin scolds, turning down the radio. “Did you even read the agenda Seokjin sent?”

Jungkook glances at him guiltily. “Um, I looked at it.”

Seokjin’s is Namjoon’s best man for the wedding. It makes sense – the two of them have been roommates since sophomore year of college, not to mention they both live in LA. Jungkook knows Jimin has also helped Namjoon with wedding details, since he lives in Chicago.

The look Jimin gives says he knows Jungkook is full of bullshit. “There’s a copy of the itinerary in my glove compartment,” he says with a nod. “I printed out a few just in case.”

“Why the fuck,” Jungkook grumbles as he opens the clasp. “Alright, here we go. Wednesday.”

“That’s today,” Jimin prompts.

“I know what day it is.” Jungkook clears his throat. “Alright, Wednesday. Bridesmaids and groomsmen arrive.”

“That’s us,” Jimin adds, shooting Jungkook a look.

“Yep, yep. Thursday – booze cruise. Woo! Seriously?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You really didn’t read this, did you?”

Ignoring him, Jungkook continues. “Friday – rehearsal ceremony and dinner. Be at the church by 4:00 PM.”

“Dressed.”

“Doesn’t seem like a necessary clarification,” Jungkook says, flipping over the paper. “Saturday, ceremony starts at 2:00 PM. Photos and reception following. Sunday, brunch.”

Jimin nods. “Don’t be late.”

“Jimin.” Jungkook lowers the sheet. “It’s Wednesday. How can you seriously tell me not to be late to brunch on Sunday?”

“Because I know you.”

“Touché.” Jungkook grins, crumpling the paper despite Jimin’s groans.

There are not many people heading into the city on a Wednesday night – turning on his blinker, Jimin switches lanes to pull off on an exit. As they slow, the buildings around them seem to stretch towards the night sky. Craning his head out the window, Jungkook exhales. When he pulls back, he finds Jimin watching.

“What?” Jungkook asks, somewhat defensive.

Jimin’s upper lip curls. “Nothing. You know, Hoseok and I’s roommate leaves at the end of the month. If you ever wanted to come to Chicago…”

Jungkook glances away. “C’mon, man. I can’t quit my job.”

“Can’t… won’t…” Jimin trails off at Jungkook’s expression in the mirror. “Anyways, the offer stands. Think about it, okay?”

Slowly, Jungkook nods. “Alright, I’ll think about.”

Jimin smiles, appeased and returns to the road. His hands stay firmly at the ten and two ‘o’clock position, which is so Jimin, it makes Jungkook smile. As they wind through the streets, Jungkook cannot help but think about what it would be like to live here.

He would probably be miserable if he simply transferred to Chicago. Maybe a little less so, since Hoseok and Jimin would be here – but nothing would really change in the long run. If he quit his job, though. Jungkook sighs. For now, that type of change remains firmly in the abstract.

“There!” Jimin squints at the building ahead. “That’s the hotel.”

[ TO BE CONTINUED ] 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[sweet-curried-powder]

Happy Birthday, Edward!

Technically, Edward’s birthday isn’t until tomorrow, but I was too damn excited!!

I really wanted to do something special for Edward’s birthday, so I thought I’d write him a little something to celebrate!

There’s also some self-indulgent Chredwis in here, because there isn’t enough of that out there.

Characters: Edward Quinton, Chris Jackson, Drew and Nevin Jovel, Isaac Beamer, Ell Fisher

Word count: 2,164

Warnings: Swearing

The boys belong to @onebizarrekai​, Ell belongs to me, and the picture was drawn by my good friend @oakskull​!

Fic is under the cut!

Happy birthday, Edward!

***

Chris was ten seconds away from a fucking panic attack. He was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself, finishing off his fourth chocolate bar in the span of ten minutes.

“Okay, so Ell’s baking the cake, Nevin’s cooking other stuff, Drew’s finishing up the playlist for the party…wait, what about the decorations? OH GOD, ARE THE DECORATIONS DONE?! THIS PARTY’S GONNA SUCK ASS IF THERE ISN’T ANY DECORA-”

“Calm your tits, man!” Isaac sighed, walking in the room with a box of handmade decorations. He put them down and held up a banner that said, ‘Happy Birthday, King Edward Quinton!’ There were crowns drawn on it with shiny markers, and it was covered in rhinestones and glitter. “Also gonna toot my own horn and say it’s some of my best work.”

“Oh, thank Kai,” Chris sighed, relaxing. “...Why is it so shiny, though?”

“It’s Edward’s birthday. Everyone knows that your birthday is the one day per year that you get to feel important!” Isaac grinned. “Plus I wanted to use a ton of glitter and rhinestones.”

“Isaac, honey, I love you, but how much did you even USE?” Drew cried, squinting at the banner and shielding his eyes.

“You remember when I went to the arts and crafts store with the five hundred dollars Ell gave me?”

“Yeah?”

“Two hundred and fifty dollars were spent on anything that sparkled.”

Drew facepalmed.

“Well, the aesthetic does look pretty nice,” Chris nodded. “Ell, do me a favor and use your telekinesis to help hang all of these up.”

“Gotcha, Chris-cross!” Ell grinned, lifting her hand. The banner lifted in the air all on its own. She lifted the box up with her hands and wandered off to decorate the rest of Chris’s house.

“I can’t believe that your dad’s okay with holding Ed’s party here,” Isaac said. “I figured that he’d say no to this.”

“Oh, Dad doesn’t know,” Chris replied. “He’s been on a business trip since Monday. He won’t be back until late next week. As long as we clean everything up afterwards, he won’t suspect a thing.”

“Damn, you’re being a rebel, aren’t you?” Drew raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, because this is important! Tomorrow is Ed’s big day!” Chris cried. “Tomorrow has to be absolutely perfect! Just like he is…”

“What was that last part?” Nevin asked, leaning closer to the monochromatic teenager.

“NOTHING!” Chris shouted, face going red, turning to Ell. “Ell, you’re gonna pick Ed up later so he can spend the night at your house, right? You know, to keep him busy so we can set up the finishing touches the next morning?”

“Uh-huh!” Ell gave Chris a thumbs up. “I’m gonna get up early and sneak over here to bake and decorate the cake. If all goes well, I should be back before Edward even wakes up.”

“Remind me why Edward’s gonna stay the night at Ell’s house, again?” Isaac asked. “He could’ve stayed at my place. We’re on pretty good terms.”

“Ell lives the furthest away from all of us,” Chris reminded him. “I’d have him stay at my house, but obviously we can’t, since we’re having the party here.”

“And we all know what Chris would do to Ed if they spent the night alone with each other,” Ell added.

“Jesus fucking Christ, guys! It’s not like that!” Chris cried. “We’d just play birthday games.”

“Birthday games?” Drew repeated.

“Yeah! Like Spin the Bottle, 7 Minutes in Heaven…”

“Chris, those aren’t birthday games,” Isaac facepalmed. “Those are the types of games that horny teenagers play at parties.”

“Hey, who can blame him? That’s how I would want to ring in MY birthday.” Ell’s face started to turn red. “But with somebody else, if you catch my drift…”

“Ell, stop it. You’re gonna bleed on the carpet.” Drew sighed, pulling out a tissue and handing it to Ell.

“Alright, everyone regroup here tomorrow morning at 8 am to put on the finishing touches! Ed’s… er, cronies will arrive a few hours before, and Ell and Ed should be here at noon! Don’t be late!”

Everyone said their goodbyes and went their separate ways, Isaac getting into his car, Drew and Nevin heading home, and Ell walking towards Ed’s house.

Chris shut the door behind him, sliding to the floor. He was nervous. So, so nervous. This party was one of the many surprises that he had for Edward, when tomorrow came.

“Tomorrow is going to be perfect,” Chris said aloud to the empty house. “It has to be. For Edward.”

********************************************

Edward’s cake looked amazing. It was several layers tall, and was frosted in different colors, and even had a tiny little Edward made of modeling chocolate and fondant.

“It’s not really one of my best creations, but Ed’ll like it,” Ell shrugged, wiping some frosting off of her cheek.

“Not one of your best?!” Chris cried. “This is the best birthday cake I’ve ever seen in my life! How did you even manage to make this in two hours?”

“I’ve been in a ton of baking competitions before. No biggie.” Ell blew some hair out of her face. “You gotta learn to work quickly in those sort of things.”

“Did you win a few of them?” Chris asked, intrigued.

“Nope. I won them all.” Ell grinned. “What did you think all those trophies in my living room came from?”

“Martial arts competitions,” Chris replied without hesitation.

“You’re not wrong, actually. I just keep those trophies in my room.” Ell checked the time. “I better go. Ed’s gonna wake up any minute now, and I need to keep the B-day boy distracted.”

“Alright,” Chris sighed. “I’ll call you if I need you to distract him for even longer.”

“That won’t happen.” Ell smiled at Chris, confident.

“How do you know?”

“Let me ask you a question.” Ell leaned in close to Chris. “Do you love Edward?”

Chris’s face went completely and totally red.

“Well, the same generic and platonic love I share with all of my friends and family-”

“No, you dumbass! I mean romantically! Sexually! That kind of love! Do you love Edward in that way?”

Chris balled his hands up into fists. He could lie in this situation, say that he didn’t, but Ell could read minds, and on top of that, she could instantly tell whether someone was lying or telling the truth, so denying that he loved Edward in this situation proved moot.

“Yes. I romantically and sexually love Edward,” Chris admitted, his cheeks warming.

“In that case, I believe that you’ve got this in the bag,” Ell smiled. “You won’t let anything go wrong for him. It’s his birthday, and you want to make it really special for him. You want to give him a birthday that he’ll never forget, in the best way possible. And you’ll succeed.”

“You really think so?”

“I don’t think so. I know so. Telekinetic’s intuition.” Ell tapped her head, looking like the guy from the “you can’t do” meme.

Chris chuckled. “Thanks, Ell. You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome. That’ll be thirty bucks.”

“WHAT?!”

“I’m kidding! God…”

******************************

Edward felt something sit down on his chest, followed by a heavenly smell. He opened his eyes, and Ell was sitting on him, a party horn in her mouth, holding a tray.

Ell blew on the horn, and she took it out of her mouth using her telekinesis. “Bon anniversaire! Feliz cumpleanos! Happy birthday!”

“You made me breakfast in bed? That’s awfully nice of you!” Edward grinned, taking the tray. “Ooh! French toast!”

“Not just any French toast!” Ell grinned. “It’s my grandmother’s special Nutella French toast! The recipe’s been in my family since the day Nutella was first sold in 1964!”

Edward took a bite of it, and his eyes lit up. “Holy shit, this tastes amazing! Nevin would probably kill for this recipe!”

“Yeah, I figured, which is why I haven’t told him about this,” Ell chuckled. “Do me a solid and keep this under wraps, will you?”

“It’s the least I can do,” Edward nodded, taking another bite. “Damn, I gotta say, you’re a really good cook.”

“Oh, thanks. I’m mostly self-taught.” Ell crossed her legs. “So, do you have any plans for today?”

“I usually go out for dinner on my birthday with my family, but I’m pretty much free until then,” Edward said. “I think I might go see Chris. My cronies probably got me something. Well, at least Cody, probably.”

“Oh, I bet you’ll see them soon,” Ell smiled. “Trust me.”

“Okay…” Edward took another bite. While he was distracted, Ell checked the time. She needed to keep Edward distracted for four hours. While some people would think that was impossible, she knew how to do it.

“You know, there’s this new store that opened up nearby that’s full of weird stuff,” Ell said, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together. “And I heard this rumor from one of the librarians that the place had some haunted items…”

“Haunted? As in, ghosts?” Edward leaned forward.

Ell nodded.

“Well, what are we waiting for?! LET’S GO!” Edward shoved the rest of the toast in his mouth and started taking his shirt off.

“HEY! Girl in the room!!” ********************************

“You want… that book?” Ell asked, raising an eyebrow as Edward held up a dusty, old book with some kind of symbol on the cover.

“Yep!” Edward grinned.

Ell breathed in deeply. “Dude, I know it’s your birthday, and I don’t mean to shoot you down on your special day, but I haven’t seen you pick up a book that wasn’t assigned to you for class.”

“Well, unlike you, I do all my recreational reading in the comfort of my own home, and only there,” Edward said, holding the book to his chest. “Besides, this book is just oozing with supernatural stuff. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Alright, if you say so,” Ell shrugged, giving the cashier several hundred dollar bills. “Keep the change, m’theydy.”

The cashier looked confused, but put the money in the register without complaint.

It was almost noon. Time for Ed to get so fucking surprised.

“Hey, Chris just texted me,” Ell said, looking at Edward with a gleam in her eyes. “He asked me to bring you over to his house. He has something for you.”

Edward’s cheeks dusted pink.

“Edward? You alright, buddy?” Ell asked.

“I-I’m fine!” Edward said rather quickly. “L-let’s hurry up.” Ell grinned, grabbed Edward’s hand, and fucking ran. For someone who was the shortest person in Foxfield High School, she was fast.

“Ell, slow down! Christ alive!” Edward cried, stumbling to catch up to his younger friend.

Ell finally screeched to a stop in front of Chris’s house.

“Chris said to just go on in,” Ell said, panting slightly. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom.” She dashed inside the house, opening and shutting the door quickly.

“Okay, everyone! He’s here!” Ell whispered.

“Okay everyone, go and hide!” Chris hissed. “When Ed comes in, count to three, and then jump out and yell, ‘Surprise’! Got that?”

Everyone nodded, scrambling to find a hiding spot. Ell used her powers to turn the lights off as she hid behind the couch next to the twins.

Edward opened the door, entering the dark house. “Hello? Chris?” He squinted, looking around the pitch-black house. “Are you home?”

Ell turned the lights back on, and everyone jumped out from their hiding spots.

“SURPRISE!” Everyone yelled. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

“W-what? A… a party?” Edward looked around the room in disbelief. “You guys set this all up?”

“Actually, it was Chris,” Isaac admitted, elbowing Chris in the side. “He got the idea in the first place. The rest of us helped in our own little ways. I made the decorations, if you can guess.”

Edward held back laughter as he looked at the extremely glittery banner that was hanging on a wall. He turned to Chris. “You planned all of this by yourself?”

Chris nodded, his face turning slightly pink. “It’s your birthday. I wanted to make it really special for you. I hope you like it.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

Chris felt his heart sink. “O-oh. I’m-”

“I love it!”

Chris blinked. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah!” Edward grinned. “I can’t believe you went through the trouble of planning a huge surprise party just for me. It’s such a great birthday gift.”

Chris looked at Ell from the corner of his eye. She gave him a knowing look, and nodded, as if she was telling her to go for it. Chris took a deep breath.

“Well, can I give you another gift?” Chris asked.

“Sure! What is-”

Chris grabbed Edward, dipped him down, and gave him a long, deep, passionate kiss. Isaac and Nevin fucking sceamed, while everyone else stared in awe.

After thirty thrilling seconds, Chris separated from a blushing Edward.

“Happy birthday,” Chris grinned.

Edward stood there, frozen for a good while, before he smiled back, tears of joy streaming down his face.

“Thank you.”

[zwiezraczek]

Hey!! I looove your writing and was wondering if you can do 12, 14 & 16 of your blurb prompts she/her with four, but like they’re teammates and they got something going on and one finds out about it?:)

Parkouring Between Ghosts [Blurb]

12. "Please, don't do that ever again." 14. "You need a hug, I shall provide." 16. "This wasn't planned at all." // You are teammates with Four, even something more, but One finds out about it...

How ironical that Eight and Four were the two parkour experts. One insisted on “hiring” after Four showed you a video of you, winning the Chase Tag competition in London last year. In less than five seconds, you caught the guy you were chasing, with agility and precision, the right way of thinking and intelligence. Thanks to you, your team was Champion of the World in the discipline, and that made you proud. And One thought it could be an advantage to the Ghosts, having two parkour experts would allow you more range and more freedom in movements. And somehow, you ended up dying, bad landing off a building as your comrades went down to find you, they couldn't. Nobody could find you, and so, you died.

You clicked with Four pretty quickly, for obvious reasons and began to train together, on the abandoned planes, in the desert and in the haunted houses around your living space. Lazily, you spent most of the time with your head on his lap as you sat on the couch in the common living room, listening to One's plans and new destinations for missions, which always thrilled you both because you used to sneak out to jump from building to building,together, laughing as you sat on the edge and looked at the city, Queen and King of the city, you used to say as Four smoked a cigarette and laughed too. From there, everything spiraled pretty quickly towards a friendship with benefits, which wasn't bad at all.

It especially began after a party you all went to, after a successful mission: Three found the right place and brought you all there – even One. And little they all knew, but you were a party animal, dancing and drinking were your favorite activities during a party, along flirting and getting drinks from strangers. And with Four by your side, you felt comfortable and not threatened, because you knew he would protect you somehow, because you would do the same for him. And because you drank, you got drunk pretty quickly, and pretty clingy too and Four had to prevent you from dancing with this man right there, because he smelt the rat. So he came up to you, taking you by the hand, and putting it around his neck as you began to giggle a bit.

“I wanna hug you,” you chanted, alcohol aromas in your voice.

“If you need a hug, I shall provide,” he replied, pulling you closer to him as you buried your face in his neck.

“You so cute, I'd kiss you,” you admitted after a long moments of your head resting in his shoulder.

“If you were sober, I'd kiss you too,” he teased you, ruffling gently your hair as you pouted.

“Kiss me tomorrow then,” you replied confidently looking into his eyes, yours shining under these purple lights.

But he didn't kiss you on the next day, even if he wanted to. He knew you were drunk last night, and your hangovered face reminded him how little you perhaps remembered from last night. But you did remember what he said to you, and gifted him with lovely glares when nobody paid attention to it, smiled sheepishly, and became more tactile than usual when One was speaking about the next move – your hands were more often around his neck as he sat on the chair, and you hugged him from behind, your hand looking more for his, your fingers caressing lazily his forearm. Nobody notices these soft attentions, as you usually are clingy around him, and others too – but less. You could feel Fours goosebumpsas you touched him, see them as you smiled, and feel the same butterflies in your stomach he felt too. And you craved for these lips, right here, right now, in front of them all. You didn't care, you wanted to kiss him as badly as you wanted, needed it, yesterday in the club.

At the end of the meeting, both of you went to this "haunted" house, to practice parkour together, as usual, nobody found it really alarming when both of you were gone for a long time, together, alone. And you used that free time to pin him against the wall of this house, looking at him as he lowered his head to look at you, all flustered.

“I'm sober right now,” you stated looking at him, fluttering your eyelashes, “you can kiss me now.”

“What,” he asked, more surprised than he ever was, hoping that he was dreaming somehow, or that he would wake up.

“I said kiss me Four,” you repeated, standing on tiptoe to reach his lips.

He didn't hesitate twice. As you expected, he put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, your hands going on his jaw as you passionately kissed him. Hands wandering in his hair, on his neck, before you both gasped, looking for air as your foreheads touched.

“For a parkour expert, you chickened out pretty quickly,” you teased him, still catching your breath, a smile on your face.

“Fuck off Eight,” he replied, “I”m not the type of guy to kiss a drunk girl.”

“I was sober for the whole day today,” you said, before he bit your lips.

“That was the goddamn problem, I never know what you remember or not after a wasted party.”

“I do remember you.”

“This wasn't planned at all,” you hissed as Five sew your wounded body – again.

Your middle name was apparently “reckless”, Four commented as he sat on the ground. You wanted to finish this mission as soon as possible, and this was how you didn't stuck to the original plan you had with Four. Now, you were grounded for a few weeks by Five, unable to train with Four now. Great. You had to jump off that building, and fall down as the men tried to shoot you down, thankfully Four attracted them towards Seven so he could shoot them down. But as you fell, you didn't break anything, you just fell on a fence, opening one of your sides and bleeding. To death, as Five later added pressing some fabric against your wound as Four looked at you on the backseat of the car.

“You never plan anything,” he replied, bitter, “and here you are, hissing and screaming because you're wounded, again,” he groaned finally.

“Shut up,” you complained before hissing again as Five pulled the string harder. “Thanks for repairing me Five.”

“Pleasure.” She winked as cleaned the sewing delicately. “Four, be nice and grab your Chaste Tag reckless Champion to her trailer so she doesn't have to walk please.”

“Your words are my command,” he said as he got up and carried you out of the place, and when you were far enough from the others he looked at you, rolling his eyes. “You reckless stupid thing, don't you ever scare me like this.” He wanted to kiss you, but he feared somebody noticing you.

“I'll consider it next time, only if you give me a good reason,” you teased him, but deeply you knew that one, if you were injured you weren't able to do parkour and two you were a burdento the team. Two things you did hate. But for the sake of teasing, this answer was gold. And Four's reaction even better.

“Don't you tempt me.”

You did tempt him, one time, after a meeting in the Ghosts room as everybody left the place and only the two of you remained, looking at the plan of the city you were going in. He hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at the plan, carelessly.

“We really need to know that,” he asked you, almost annoyed.

“We do Four, or one of us will die, I may be reckless but I'm not completely stupid you know,” you answered, putting your index on his nose. “Besides, I don't want to bury you for real or whatever.”

“Not happening,” he said, making you turn around to face you, before pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours. A chaste kiss turning into passion. Your hands on his cheek, his hand in your hair.

“Oh,” you heard from behind you. One entered the room, probably looking for something he left and there he found the two of you, making out. Damnit. “Millenials you... Gross, absolutely gross. I hate it, I hate it,” he complained, a hand before his eyes as he advanced towards you and the table. “Please, don't to that ever again, not in front of my holly eyes. Get a room, or whatever, oh, gross, worse than Two and Three. I'm disgusted andflabbergasted,” his disgusted tone making the two of you split for a moment, Four letting you go and making a step back.

“Flabber what,” you asked, your eyes wandering from One to Four.

“Lack of vocabulary but knowing how to play with tongue: classic millenials,” One concluded as you felt absolutely lost.

“You're not mad,” Four asked, frowning in surprise.

“I'm dead, you're dead, we're dead, I told you the rules, Two and Three broke the rules,” he concluded sadly before grabbing a folder on the table. “I also told you to not reveal your names but as soon as Seven showed up his little nose you all revealed your names so, at this point, I'm not mad or surprised, just... Disappointed,” he stated.

“You know each other's names,” you exclaimed looking at Four who rose his shoulders in defeat, “and I'm not even in this privileged circle!”

“Talk with Four, he'll maybe reveal your some things other than his tongue. I'm gonna head out, so excuse me”, he pursued as he began to walk towards the door.

“And we're the millenials here,” Four said as One left the room without any reply.

“You,” you said pointing at Four. “I hope your name is fucking hideous because if you hid it from me it better be.”

[thehelleniclunarwitch]

Dark Desire [Chapter One]

Billy Hargrove x Reader x Steve Harrington

Warning: Language

Yeah sorry, I don’t even know what this is. It’s a mafia au and a mess but I hope you enjoy it!

                              xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The room was dead quiet. All eyes were on Billy. He never started a meeting without his right-hand man. He knew Steve was going to be late. Billy could have easily pushed the meeting to a later time, but he enjoyed watching the others squirm under his watchful eye. A toothpick hung out of the corner of his mouth. He anxiously chewed on it. 

Steve and Billy were an unlikely pair. They were rivals in school. Both of them had grown up in the business. Steve’s father was a huge mob boss. Ran all of Indiana, almost half of Ohio, and the lower part of Michigan. Billy was a nobody from California who got transferred into the private school in Hawkins. 

Billy never hated Steve. He just saw him as competition, but that all changed when the two of them got stuck in detention together and Billy learned that Steve wanted nothing to do with the family business. He hated his parents. Steve had wanted to go out on his own and make a name for himself. 

That’s when Billy had struck up the deal between the two. After high school, they would head back out to Billy’s old stomping grounds in California. They would build an empire from the ground up together. Slowly, make their way back and take everything from Steve’s father. Surprisingly, Steve didn’t even hesitate to take the deal.

The boys shook hands and that was the end of the rivalry. It had begun a beautiful friendship and partnership. That’s exactly what happened too. After graduation, Steve told his parents to shove it, packed up most of his belongings and then headed west to California with Billy at his side. 

Billy had the reputation back home. When he arrived with Steve in tow it didn’t take long for the two of them to start building that partnership. They took down other mob families. Gathered up all of the surrounding territories. The two of them continued to on the warpath right up until it brought them to Indiana. 

The pair wanted to make Steve’s dad sweat. Make him a little nervous. At first, they left Indiana alone. They took control of all of Ohio and the whole lower peninsula of Michigan. Then with one last trick up their sleeve, they snatched most of the territory in Illinois and upper Kentucky completely surrounding Steve’s father. 

The pair had been successful. Steve’s father stared at Billy from the other end of the table. Billy sat up a little straighter when the door to the room finally opened. Steve and all of his glorious hair stepped in the room. He shot Billy a brilliant smile and Billy couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Steve?” Mr. Harrington said in confusion. 

“Sorry to keep all of you waiting,” Steve apologized as he came to take the seat right of Billy. 

“No worries, we have all the time in the world,” Billy smiled. 

Mr. Harrington looked at his son horrified. 

“You’re doing this to me? You’re the one who is trying to flush me out?” Mr. Harrington asked. 

“Come on now, Pops, you can’t be completely surprised. There had to have been some whisperings about what I was up to,” Steve said tilting his head to look at his aging father.

“I’ve heard things I just couldn’t believe it,” Mr. Harrington said shaking his head. 

“Now that my business partner is here I think we have something to discuss,” Billy said. 

“Business partner?” Mr. Harrington said in disbelief. 

“I told you years ago, Pops, I wanted nothing to do with your business, not the business itself,” Steve explained. 

Mr. Harrington sat back in shock. 

“Now, I’m sure you’re all aware that we have taken over almost all of your territory around here. Including other territories from other families,” Billy began. 

“Hawkins is the last piece of the puzzle,” Steve said. 

“Do you really think that I would willingly sell you, Hawkins?” Mr. Harrington asked in disgust. 

Billy smiled. 

“Well, you don’t have much of an option, Pops. You either willingly give us Hawkins and we take it from you. And trust me you don’t want us to take it from you. Ask the Andersons how well that worked out for them,” Steve said. 

Billy laughed. “Oh right, you can’t, unless you head to the bottom of Lake Michigan for a little chat,”

“This is my home. Our home. Where would your mother and I go if I were to give this to you?” His father asked. 

Steve looked bored. Rolling his eyes, he sat back in his chair, his hands went behind his head with a calm and relaxed face. Mr. Harrington surged to his feet. He stared at Billy then locked eyes with his son. 

“You will have to pry my money, my home, and my town from my cold dead fingers,” Mr. Harrington snarled. 

Billy started to laugh. Mr. Harrington glanced a look at his son, but Steve was only staring at him. There was no sympathy or regret in his eyes. No, his son, his only child looked at him like he was nothing. 

Billy sat forward resting his hands against the table. Mr. Harrington watched him with careful eyes. Billy’s laughter faded and his smile fell. He nodded to somebody behind Mr. Harrington. Two large hands came to grab Mr. Harrington by his arms. He began thrashing around trying to free himself. 

“You know what to do with him,” Billy said. 

“Sir,” Tommy said with a nod before dragging Mr. Harrington from the room. 

When his father was finally gone Steve sat up a little straighter. He looked at the other men in the room. 

“You have two choices here gentlemen. You can either jump ship, come to work with Billy and me or face the same ending as my father,” Steve said. 

The men all looked around at each other. 

“I always knew you’d be a better leader than your father,” Mr. Miller said. 

A small smile tugged at the corner of Steve’s lips. 

“Is that how everyone else feels?” Billy asked. 

Slowly, the others nodded along in agreement. 

Billy clapped his hands together in excitement. He had won. This was everything that he wanted. 

“Perfect, when Tommy returns he’ll tell you what happens next,” Billy said standing. 

Steve stood, straightened his jacket, and then ran a hand through his hair. Saying nothing else, Billy left the room with Steve hot on his heels. The screams of his father echoed down the hallway as he followed Billy out of the warehouse. The slick black Camara that was Billy’s pride and joy sat at the curb waiting for them. 

The men climbed into the car. Billy started the engine and then looked over at Steve. His friend was staring straight ahead. Billy knew that Steve wasn’t regretting his decisions or having second thoughts, but this man was still his father. 

“You know you’re doing the right thing,” Billy began. 

Steve whipped his head to the side to look at his partner. 

“Oh, I know. I have other things on my mind,” Steve replied. 

“Your mother?” Billy asked. 

Steve shook his head. “Somebody else from my past,”

“Do you want to talk about them?” Billy asked. 

Steve sighed. Billy may be one tough son of a bitch and fucking psychotic but he was one damn good friend. 

“Not right now. It’s a discussion for another day,” Steve said. 

Billy nodded and dropped the subject. When Steve was ready to talk Billy would be ready for him.  Pulling away, Billy drove them back to Hawkins where they were staying at the hotel until they could decide on where they wanted to settle in yet. 

The pair stopped for some supplies and dinner. When they entered the hotel lobby the girls behind the desk greeted them with large grins and giggles. Steve rolled his eyes, but Billy ate up the attention. They rode the elevator up to the penthouse level, the elevator dinged, and the door slid open. 

Steve and Billy had barely stepped off and into the penthouse with a fiery redhead was there greeting them with a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips. 

“What took you so long?” She demanded. 

“Maxine,” Billy greeted his sister. 

Max scoffed. “Stop calling me that,”

Steve only smirked as he handed her a bag of food. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, something came up at the office,” Billy said flopping down on the couch. 

“You were supposed to register me for high school today,” Max said. 

“Steve and I will take care of it tomorrow,” Billy said before shoveling some fries into his mouth. 

Max dropped down on the loveseat next to Steve. He kicked his feet up on the table and let out a sigh. She bit into her burger as she scowled at her brother. 

“Listen, I’ll make it up to you,” Billy started. 

“Oh, this should be good. There’s nothing to do in this bumfuck town,” Max complained. 

“Language!” Steve hissed around a mouthful of milkshake. 

Max rolled her eyes. “Well let’s hear it,”

“We’ll take you house hunting. You can have a big say in what we buy,” Billy said. 

Max’s eyes lit up. 

“And if I want a pool?” Max asked. 

“If that’s what you want,” Billy said. 

Max glanced up at Steve. He winked at her and she smiled. 

“Alright, fine, that’s fair, but be warned you’re going to hate that you just agreed to that,” Max said. 

Billy let out a loud laugh. “Oh, little sister, I already do,”

After dinner, Billy and Steve made sure that Max had all the right papers for her transfers. Confirmed their plans for tomorrow and then left Max to get around for bed. Billy received a phone call so he left Steve to his own. Max was staring at him from the bathroom. 

“What now?” Steve asked. 

“I haven’t seen Billy this happy in a long time. Did everything go okay?” Max asked. 

Steve nodded. “We got what we wanted,”

“Then why do you look like shit?” Max asked. 

Steve sighed. “This place just brings up a lot of memories,” Steve told her. 

“Like a certain girl?” Max asked. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Steve said with a small smile. 

“Are you going to tell her you’re home?” Max asked. 

Steve shrugged. 

“Why not?” Max asked. 

“I’m not the guy she thinks I am,” Steve said. 

“Who cares,” Max said. 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Steve said. 

“Steve you’re great. You’ve made my brother a better person and I never thought that was possible. Talk to her,” Max said. 

Steve narrowed his eyes. “When did you become such an expert in the romance department?”

“I read a lot,” Max grinned. 

Steve chuckled and then ruffled her hair. Billy called out for Steve. Max shut the bathroom door as Steve headed into the living room area of their penthouse. Billy sat on the edge of the couch he was just lighting up a cigarette. 

“Well Tommy went over all of the paperwork your father had stashed away in his house,” Billy said. 

“And what did Tommy find?” Steve asked. 

“There’s one piece of major property that your father doesn’t own,” Billy said. 

Steve looked at him in confusion. And then slowly it all started to make sense to him. More than five acres of woods was owned by Jim Hopper. The Chief of police. And her brother. His girl’s brother. Fuck. 

“Chief Hopper isn’t just going to give up his property. There’s a reason why he never sold out to my dad,” Steve explained. 

“Well maybe we can be a little more convincing,” Billy said. 

Steve took the cigarette from Billy and took a hit. 

“Actually, I think I know of another way,” Steve said. 

Billy cocked an eyebrow. 

“Really?” Billy asked. 

“Chief Hopper’s younger sister is two years younger than us. She was my best friend growing up,” Steve began. 

“A cop’s sister friends with the mobster’s kid?” Billy asked with a laugh. 

Steve smiled. “Seems funny, but Chief Hopper never told her about what was going on. She was kept in the dark. She doesn’t know about me and my connections to the mafia,” 

Billy was intrigued. 

“Well I think it’s necessary that I’m introduced to this young lady immediately,” Billy said. 

“Soon. Could I talk to her first?” Steve asked. 

“Of course. You do what you think is necessary,” Billy replied.

“She could be our ticket,” Steve said. 

“You were friends. I trust you to talk to her, Steve,” Billy said. 

“I’ll go after we take Max to register for school,” Steve told him. 

“What is the Chief of police’s sister up to?” Billy asked. 

“I heard she was a florist,” Steve said. 

Billy tipped his head back and laughed. “Perfect, we’re almost out of black roses. Be a dear and see if she can get any in stock for us and keep them in stock,”

Steve shot his friend a look. “Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious having the local florist keep our signature on stock?” 

“I think it sounds like a fun time. I’m not trying to hide who we are and why we are here Steve,” Billy said. 

“But I want to do this without dragging her into the mess,” Steve argued. 

“Do what you need to do, Steve,” Billy said. 

Steve sighed. 

“Be a dear and pour me a glass of whiskey,” Billy said. 

Steve pushed up off the couch and headed over to the bar in the corner. He poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed Billy one glass and then sat back down on his friend. Billy leaned against him as he sipped at his drink. 

“I forgot to tell you,” Billy started. 

“Tell me what?” Steve asked. 

“Welcome home,” Billy grinned with a small chuckle. 

Steve snorted as he brought his glass up to his lips. “Yeah, sure, welcome home,” 

[introvertguide]

All the President’s Men (1976); AFI #77

The next review marks the halfway point through the AFI 100 and it is of the political “thriller,” All the President’s Men (1976). The source material was created by reporters involved in the uncovering of the Watergate scandal and one of these reporters contributed to the writing of the screenplay. The film was in theatres and earned Oscar nomination only 4 years after the Watergate incident occurred which made the film a Hollywood dramatization of the news. I am not aware of another film quite like this as far as release vs. incident dates that wasn’t a documentary. Even documentaries, although filmed during or immediately after events, do not often come out in theatres so soon. They definitely don’t get nominated for 8 academy awards like this film did. So what was behind this movie that made this a one-of-a-kind film that landed it on the list of the top 100 American movies? I want to go over the basic events, since that is the plot of the film, and then discuss the good and bad aspects of this quick production:

SPOILER WARNING!!! I AM GOING TO SPELL OUT ALL OF THE CONTENTS OF THE MOVIE!!! IT CAN BE BETTER SPOILED BY A HISTORY BOOK, BUT I WILL GET TO INACURACIES WHICH MIGHT RUIN THE FILM! SO SPOILER ALERT IF YOU WANT TO WATCH THE FILM FIRST!!!

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The film begins with a lot of stock news footage and then a reenactment of the break-in at the Watergate hotel in 1972. Five men who were connected to the CIA and the Committee to Re-Elect the President (nicknamed CREEP) were caught with wire tapping equipment in the Democratic Party headquarters at the hotel. More stock footage of news reports lets the audience know that there is something fishy about this break-in.

At the trial for the five burglars, a young Bob Woodward (Robert Redford), who is a reporter for the New York Post, notices that a high priced lawyer is representing the five and yet it has been stated earlier that none of the burglars had used their phone call. Woodward keeps finding this lawyer and attempts to question him about why he is there and how exactly the burglars are attached to the CIA. Through consistent pressure, Woodward is able to connect the burglars to CIA agent E. Howard Hunt and a member of the White House Counsel, Charles Colson.

Woodward attempts to take on the story but finds that another reporter keeps taking his submitted drafts and altering them in an attempt to take over the story. This reporter is Carl Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman), a much more seasoned reporter at the Post that believes he should get the story. The editor puts them both on the case noting a lack of reliable sources, but tells them to keep digging.

Here is where it gets a little weird because Woodward talks about a secret source that he cannot name that was a senior government official. He went by the codename “Deep Throat” and Woodward meets him in a parking garage in the middle of the night. The sources does not say anything specific nor does he give any names, but he famously tells Woodward to “follow the money” which means to find out who paid the burglars to break in. 

Through basically unreliable resources, Woodward and Bernstein are able to make connections between CREEP and the money that was paid to the burglars. This is weird because it seems pretty assured that Nixon would easily defeat his competition to secure re-election, so the editors at the newspaper have doubts about putting the story on the front page.

Woodward and Bernstein are able to contact the CREEP treasurer Hugh Sloan, Jr. and are able to connect a slush fund to White House Chief of Staff H.R. Haldeman and former Attorney General John Mitchell, the current head of CREEP. It is discovered that this wire tapping and sabotage had been happening since Nixon was trailing during the primaries. 

The editor demands thoroughness in obtaining reliable resources, so Woodward and Bernstein go around to employees of the the treasury for CREEP, and they are all young ladies that are afraid for their safety but are compelled to give up information to the reporters. I somewhat question the accuracy of the story at this stage of the film, but I will address that after the summary.

Woodward goes out and meets Deep Throat again and the source reveals that Haldeman was behind the Watergate break-in and cover-up. This cover up was not just to deny CREEP involvement, but to hide covert operations involving US intelligence agencies like the CIA and FBI. He warns Woodward that the two reporters could be in danger.

The Washington Post runs the story and the White House vehemently denies the allegations and chastises the press for shabby reporting. Woodward and Bernstein go and meet the editor in the middle of the night and decide to keep running with the story...and that is basically the end of the movie.

There is some footage of the two typing vigorously and then stock footage of the news reports and teletype printing out what happened in the news. It is not much of an ending, but this is likely because the story had not finished when the movie went into production. 

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So I have some major issues with this film and these problems have revealed themselves over multiple viewings. The first time that I saw this was in class as a senior in high school. I was in Mr. Sly’s Government and Economics class and we watched the movie over two class periods with many breaks for explanation and a lot of forwarding through the filler. At the time, the teacher was very excited at the topic (he hated Richard Nixon) and the movie was fascinating because he only showed and subsequently explained the good parts. Also, his enthusiasm for the topic was contagious. He was a very good teacher. 

The next viewing was a full 15 years later when going through the AFI list for the first time. I could not figure out what I liked so much about it and had to rewatch multiple parts because I kept falling asleep. There were no thrills and there was so much filler, I remember thinking that this should have been a 20 minute film and it would have been almost completely newsreel stock footage. 

This final time I can see what the problem is with the film...and I like it even less. The film is over 2 hours long and more than half of it is stock footage from the news, walking around quickly (there is some running in the newsroom for no reason), extended conversations due to fear of “somebody finding out” (the threat is never established as real so it is just annoying), a lot of parking lots (it shows the same car driving from the same parking spot out into the street on 3 separate occasions), intense research and typing, and establishing shots of buildings. It has as much filler as a B movie and costs about the same, but because it was so close to the event with big name actors, it was treated as something special. In fact, it is talked about like a documentary in many reviews that I read with words like “important” and “powerful” scattered about, but I don’t see it. 

Robert Redford bought the book rights because he knew it was an interesting topic that people would want to know about. He was correct, but it wasn’t enough fact to make a full movie, so he let one of the reporters, Carl Bernstein, punch up the screenplay with his stories of how he enchanted female story leads into giving out information. Those conversations are completely unnecessary.  At some point, the writers realized that there was no clear and present danger so they had the secret source bring up safety and Woodward becoming paranoid...but absolutely nothing happened. 

This movie needed to be a 30 minute documentary with some re-enactments or it needed to wait until more details became available to replace the filler. I respect that it was different from anything prior or since, but it doesn’t make the movie good or even interesting. It kind of broke me when the two main characters were going over a list of people that they needed to visit as possible leads and all they did was read names over a shot of the city. You might as well read out the phone book for 2 minutes as it was just as boring. 

The poster calls this the most devastating story of this century and I agree... devastatingly boring. No other film on the AFI list has less story than this film. Some of the other films have annoyed me more, but I could see why some people liked it or at least why it was interesting. This is not interesting and it is presented like a documentary when it is not. Variety magazine said this film was “ingenious” and overcame the difficult lack of drama that a story about reporters running down a story might otherwise have. Disagree vehemently. 

Roger Ebert gave it 3.5 stars, so critics I have the utmost respect for seem to have enjoyed it. I was not alive when the film came out and agree more with Dave Kehr who called the film “pedestrian” and “a study in missed opportunities.” For my money, National Geographic TV did a one hour special that was just the facts and it was so much more interesting. Here is a link to that and I would suggest skipping the Hollywood version.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWkS-sOia-Y

So does this film deserve to be on the AFI 100? Well...I guess maybe? It was something different and likely the most accurate and up to date Hollywood film like none before or since. It used real names and was written by the actual people involved. It just wasn’t that interesting to me. Would I recommend it? If you are suffering from insomnia. Otherwise, no. If you want to see an accurate retelling of the story in one third the time, click the link above. Let the Robert Redford film be an experiment that made for very uninteresting results.

[blackkudos]

Betty Carter

Betty Carter (born Lillie Mae Jones; May 19, 1929 – September 26, 1998) was an American jazz singer known for her improvisational technique, scatting and other complex musical abilities that demonstrated her vocal talent and imaginative interpretation of lyrics and melodies. Vocalist Carmen McRae once remarked: "There's really only one jazz singer—only one: Betty Carter."

Early life

Carter was born in Flint, Michigan, and grew up in Detroit, where her father, James Jones, was the musical director of a Detroit church and her mother, Bessie, was a housewife. As a child, Carter was raised to be extremely independent and to not expect nurturing from her family. Even 30 years after leaving home, Carter was still very aware of and affected by the home life she was raised in, and was quoted saying:

I have been far removed from my immediate family. There's been no real contact or phone calls home every week to find out how everybody is…As far as family is concerned, it's been a lonesome trek…It's probably just as much my fault as it is theirs, and I can't blame anybody for it. But there was…no real closeness, where the family urged me on, or said…'We're proud'…and all that. No, no…none of that happened.

While the lack of support from Carter's family caused her to feel isolated, it may also have instilled self-reliance and determination to succeed. She studied piano at the Detroit Conservatory at the age of 15, but only attained a modest level of expertise.

At the age of 16, Carter began singing. As her parents were not big proponents of her pursuing a singing career, she would sneak out at night to audition for amateur shows. After winning first place at her first amateur competition, Carter felt as though she were being accepted into the music world and decided that she must pursue it tirelessly. When she began performing live, she was too young to be admitted into bars, so she obtained a forged birth certificate to gain entry in order to perform.

Career

Even at a young age, Carter was able to bring a new vocal style to jazz. The breathiness of her voice was a characteristic seldom heard before her appearance on the music scene. She also was well known for her passion for scat singing and her strong belief that the throwaway attitude that most jazz musicians approached it with was inappropriate and wasteful due to its spontaneity and basic inventiveness, seldom seen elsewhere.

Detroit, where Carter grew up, was a hotbed of jazz growth. After signing with a talent agent after her win at amateur night, Carter had opportunities to perform with famous jazz artists such as Dizzy Gillespie, who visited Detroit for an extensive amount of time. Gillespie is often considered responsible for her strong passion for scatting. In earlier recordings, it is apparent that her scatting had similarities to the qualities of Gillespie's.

At the time of Gillespie's visit, Charlie Parker was receiving treatment in a psychiatric hospital, delaying her encounter with him. However, Carter eventually performed with Parker, as well as with his band consisting of Tommy Potter, Max Roach, and Miles Davis. After receiving praise from both Gillespie and Parker for her vocal prowess, Carter felt an upsurge in confidence and knew that she could make it in the business with perseverance.

Carter's confidence was well founded. In 1948, she was asked by Lionel Hampton to join his band. She finally had her big break. Working with Hampton's group gave her the chance to be bandmates with artists such as Charles Mingus and Wes Montgomery, as well as with Ernest Harold "Benny" Bailey, who had recently vacated Gillespie's band and Albert Thornton "Al" Grey who would later go on to join Gillespie's band. Hampton obviously had an ear for talent and a love for bebop. Carter too had a deep love for bebop as well as a talent for it. Hampton's wife Gladys gave her the nickname "Betty Bebop", a nickname she reportedly detested. Despite her good ear and charming personality, Carter was fiercely independent and had a tendency to attempt to resist Hampton's direction, while Hampton had a temper and was quick to anger. Hampton expected a lot from his players and did not want them to forget that he was the band's leader. She openly hated his swing style, refused to sing in a swinging way, and she was far too outspoken for his tastes. Carter honed her scat singing ability while on tour, which was not well received by Hampton as he did not enjoy her penchant for improvisation. Over the course of two and a half years, Hampton fired Carter a total of seven times.

Carter was part of the Lionel Hampton Orchestra that played at the famed Cavalcade of Jazz in Los Angeles at Wrigley Field which was produced by Leon Hefflin, Sr. on July 10, 1949. They did a second concert at Lane Field in San Diego on September 3, 1949. They also performed at the sixth famed Cavalcade of Jazz concert on June 25, 1950. Also featured on the same day were Roy Milton & His Solid Senders, Pee Wee Crayton's Orchestra, Dinah Washington, Tiny Davis & Her Hell Divers, and other artists. 16,000 people were reported to be in attendance and the concert ended early because of a fracas while Hampton's band played "Flying High".

Being a part of Hampton's band provided a few things for "The Kid" (a nickname bestowed upon Carter that stuck for the rest of her life): connections, and a new approach to music, making it so that all future musical attitudes that came from Carter bore the mark of Hampton's guidance. Because of Hampton's hiring of Carter, she also goes down in history as one of the last big band era jazz singers in history. However, by 1951, Carter left the band. After a short recuperation back home, Carter was in New York, working all over the city for the better part of the early 1950s, as well as participating in an extensive tour of the south, playing for "camp shows". This work made little to no money, but Carter believed it was necessary in order to develop as an artist, and was a way to "pay her dues".

Very soon after Carter's arrival in New York City, she was given the opportunity to record with King Pleasure and the Ray Bryant Trio, becoming more recognizable and well-known and subsequently being granted the chance to sing at the Apollo Theatre. This theatre was known for giving up-and-coming artists the final shove into becoming household names. Carter was propelled into prominence, recording with Epic label by 1955 and was a well-known artist by the late 1950s. Her first solo LP, Out There, was released on the Peacock label in 1958.

Miles Davis can be credited for Carter's bump in popularity, as he was the person who recommended to Ray Charles that he take Carter under his wing. Carter began touring with Charles in 1960, then making a recording of duets with him in 1961 (Ray Charles and Betty Carter), including the R&B-chart-topping "Baby, It's Cold Outside", which brought her a measure of popular recognition. In 1963 she toured in Japan with Sonny Rollins. She recorded for various labels during this period, including ABC-Paramount, Atco and United Artists, but was rarely satisfied with the resulting product. After three years of touring with Charles and a total of two recordings together, Carter took a hiatus from recording to marry. She and her husband had two children. However, she continued performing, not wanting to be dependent upon her husband for financial support.

The 1960s became an increasingly difficult time for Carter as she began to slip in fame, refusing to sing contemporary pop music, and her youth fading. Carter was nearly forty years old, which at the time was not conducive to a career in the public eye. Rock and roll, like pop, was steadily becoming more popular and provided cash flow for labels and recording companies. Carter had to work extremely hard to continue to book gigs because of the jazz decline. Her marriage also was beginning to crumble. By 1971, Carter was single and mainly performing live with a small group consisting of merely a piano, drums, and a bass. The Betty Carter trio was one of very few jazz groups to continue to book gigs in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Carter created her own record label, Bet-Car Records, in 1969, the sole recording source of Carter's music for the next eighteen years:

....in fact, I think I was probably the first independent label out there in '69. People thought I was crazy when I did it. 'How are you gonna get any distribution?' I mean, 'How are you gonna take care of business and do that yourself?' 'Don't you need somebody else?' I said, 'Listen. Nobody was comin' this way and I wanted the records out there, so I found out that I could do it myself.' So, that's what I did. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. You know. We're talking about '69!

Some of her most famous recordings were originally issued on Bet-Car, including the double album The Audience with Betty Carter (1980). In 1980 she was the subject of a documentary film by Michelle Parkerson, But Then, She's Betty Carter. Carter's approach to music did not concern solely her method of recording and distribution, but also her choice in venues. Carter began performing at colleges and universities, starting in 1972 at Goddard College in Vermont. Carter was excited at this opportunity, as it was since the mid-1960s that Carter had been wanting to visit schools and provide some sort of education for students. She began lecturing along with her musical performances, informing students of the history of jazz and its roots.

By 1975, Carter's life and work prospects began to improve, and Carter was beginning to be able to pick her own jobs once again, touring in Europe, South America, and the United States. In 1976, Carter was a guest live performer on Saturday Night Live′s first season on the air, and was also a performer at the Newport Jazz Festival in 1977 and 1978, carving out a permanent place for herself in the music business as well as in the world of jazz.

In 1977, Carter enjoyed a new peak in critical and popular estimation, and taught a master class with her past mentor, Dizzy Gillespie, at Harvard. In the last decade of her life, Carter began to receive even wider acclaim and recognition. In 1987 she signed with Verve Records, who reissued most of her Bet-Car albums on CD for the first time and made them available to wider audiences. In 1988 she won a Grammy for her album Look What I Got! and sang in a guest appearance on The Cosby Show (episode "How Do You Get to Carnegie Hall?"). In 1994 she performed at the White House and was a headliner at Verve's 50th anniversary celebration in Carnegie Hall. She was the subject of a 1994 short film by Dick Fontaine, Betty Carter: New All the Time.

In 1997 she was awarded a National Medal of Arts by President Bill Clinton. This award was one of thousands, but Carter considered this medal to be her most important that she received in her lifetime.

Death

Carter continued to perform, tour, and record, as well as search for new talent until she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in the summer of 1998. She died on September 26, 1998, at the age of 69, and was later cremated. She was survived by her two sons.

Legacy

Carter often recruited young accompanists for performances and recordings, insisting that she "learned a lot from these young players, because they're raw and they come up with things that I would never think about doing."

1993 was Carter's biggest year of innovation, creating a program called Jazz Ahead, which took 20 students who were given the opportunity to spend an entire week training and composing with Carter, a program that still exists to this day and is hosted in The Kennedy Center.

Betty Carter is considered responsible for discovering great jazz talent, her discoveries including John Hicks, Curtis Lundy, Mulgrew Miller, Cyrus Chestnut, Dave Holland, Stephen Scott, Kenny Washington, Benny Green and more.

On June 25, 2019, The New York Times Magazine listed Betty Carter among hundreds of artists whose material was reportedly destroyed in the 2008 Universal fire.

Discography

CD compilations

1990: Compact Jazz – (Polygram) – Bet-Car and Verve recordings from 1976 to 1987

1992: I Can't Help It – (Impulse!/GRP) – the Out There and The Modern Sound albums on one compact disc

1999: Priceless Jazz – (GRP) – Peacock and ABC-Paramount recordings from 1958 and 1960

2003: Betty Carter's Finest Hour – (Verve) – recordings from 1958 to 1992

On multi-artist compilations

1988: "I'm Wishing" on Stay Awake: Various Interpretations of Music from Vintage Disney Films

1997: "Lonely House" on September Songs – The Music of Kurt Weill

[xxfanficnationxx]

Lacuna// Teen wolf Rewrite

Wolf Moon Part 2

Part 1 

Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles x Reader (Eventually)

Warnings: none really 

A/N: I really love to put visuals, its my favorite part of writing. But if it gets too annoying then ill stop. I’m trying to make the reader as bad-ass as possible. I really wanted her to be extroverted and forward, basically the opposite of me. Hope you enjoy!

You awoke early, 30 mins before your alarm. The events from last night still fresh in your mind. It’s time for school, so you began to get ready. Lucky for you, you had been planning your first day outfit for a while, it was laid on your dresser ready. Before you got ready, you went to check your bandage on your leg. It was almost soaked but dry with blood, it looked like it was even turning black. But then… you removed it, and the bite was gone. Completely gone. ‘Did I imagine it all?’ 

You heard keys clinking and steps coming up the stairs. “Knock knock, sleepy head” your aunt began to open the door. You quickly grabbed the bandage and tucked it under the sheets. Thank god it was dried blood. “Oh!” She exclaimed “You’re awake. That’s surprising. You excited to go to school! Make some friends?” She started to dance to you, sitting next to you and poking your sides. Even though she worked a full night shift. She still had so much energy. 

“Ughhh” you groan, falling back into your bed and pulling your pillow up to your face to block her out. “No! No new friends. Just get through the rest of high school.” She stands and starts to walk out. Chuckling to herself lightly. 

“Okay, okay. Well. Get ready! And let me know when we need to go.” She walks out and shuts your door. 

You grabbed the outfit and made your way to the bathroom to do your makeup and hair. You put on your outfit and stare in the mirror. 

You actually look good, taking into consideration how you feel. 

Your aunt dropped you off a little later than the other kids because the principal wanted to meet with you beforehand. You walked onto the walkway leading to the front doors of the school, you saw a girl digging through her bag on the phone with someone. Then a man came walking towards the both of you. 

“Sorry to keep you two girls waiting” she looks up at him then to you. “Allison, this is Y/n.Y/n this is Allison.” She holds out her hand. 

“Nice to meet you.” A gorgeous smile graced upon her lips. 

“Nice to meet you too!” You reply, a bright smile as well. 

“So y/n you from Seattle?” The man states as he walks towards the door. 

“Yes I am, but I lived here before. Years and years ago.” You smile 

“Oh yes, and Allison San Francisco isn’t where you grew up?” He asks as he opens the door. 

“No, but we lived there for more than a year, which is unusual in my family.” She replies. Already peaking your interest 

“Well hopefully beacon hills will be your last stop for a while. Both of you.” He turns his head and looks at you. You smile, nodding your head. He opens a door leading you both in. “Class these are your new students, Allison Argent and Y/n Y/l/n. Please do your best to make them feel welcome.” He exits the room. And you see a seat open by the window. Allison lowers her head and walks to another seat, a boy turning and giving her a pen. She gives him a puzzled look before smiling and saying “Thanks.” 

You sit down setting your stuff down and preparing to highlight the hell of the syllabus. “Well begin with Kafka’s Metamorphosis on page 133.” The teacher says. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder so you turn slightly. “Hi, you said your name was Y/n” you nod feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Did you live here before? My names Stiles.” You lightly gasp as you start to recognize his features. 

“Yes, yes I did live here, umm hi Stiles. I don’t know if you remember me. I mean hell I barely remember you.” You smile. 

“Ms. Y/l/n, please turn around.” You slowly turn to pay attention. Slightly red in the cheeks for already getting called out. 

You feel the boy behind you start to sit up and whispers “I remember the name.” You smile. Still looking forward. Happy he remembers. Even if it’s only slightly. 

The bell rings, finally school ended and you see Allison up at her locker. You decide that it might be easier to be new girls together then apart. “Hi!” She jumps a little you start to say sorry but she stops you.

“Y/n! I’m sorry for being so jumpy! Just a little bit overwhelmed.” She opens her locker pacing her binder in it. 

“Tell me about it” you laugh a little. “So I was thinking you know, it’s probably better being new girls together rather than a-“ some redhead walks up and interrupts you. 

“That jacket is absolutely killer. Where’d you get it” you can tell Allison is a bit uncomfortable. She gives you soft look and looks back at the girl. 

“My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco.” She nods slightly

The redhead looks at you. “And that outfit, I can tell I have some competition this year” She laughs. Points at both Allison and you and says “and you two are my new best friends.” 

At this point some boy comes up the her and starts sucking her face. You didn’t even know this girls name, at least you can tell your aunt you already made friends. You jerk your head a bit when you hear a girls voice loud and clear in your ear “can somebody tell me how new girls are here all of five minuets, and they’re already hanging out with Lydia’s clique?” You look away, trying not to make it obvious you can hear their conversation clearly. How strange. 

Another voice comes through. You recognize it as Stiles from earlier. “Because they’re hot. Beautiful people herd together.” You blush a little bit. “Scott you see that one girl. Yeah I think that’s y/n from when we were you-“ your focus is cut off from their conversation as Lydia starts to talk about a party this weekend. 

“Yeah Friday night, you should come.” Jackson says looking at you and Allison like we would be insane if we didn’t go. Allison begins making excuses of not going. But honestly to you, it seems fun. 

“Yeah sure totally I’ll go.” Lydia, as you now know because of that one girl from earlier, looks up at you and smiles

“Everyone’s going after the scrimmage” Jackson says. 

“You mean football?” Allison asks. 

“Footballs a joke in beacon.” Jackson laughs “the sport here is lacrosse” interesting. Seattle was all about football. “We’ve won state championship for the past three years.” 

Lydia goes on about how amazing Jackson is but you couldn’t stop thinking about how you could hear the other’s conversation a while ago. Was it just a Fluke. “Perfect. You’re coming” she grabs both Allison and your hands leading you to the field. You sit in between Allison and Lydia, really not excited about being there. You throw a quick text to your aunt about staying after school and that you’d just walk home, she was sleeping, but you liked to make sure she knew what was going on. 

You see stiles walk into the field with the same boy from first period. He didn’t see you, but you couldn’t help but stare. “Who is that” you hear Allison say. 

“Him?” Lydia replies. “I’m not sure who he is.” 

“Isn’t that Scott? Scott Mcall. Always hanging around Stiles?” You say. Making the connection. “We all used to be really good friends when we were young.“ you look away slightly red in the face. 

“He’s in our English class” she says. Then the refs whistle goes off. Scaring you a bit. It was loud. But you look to the field and notice Scott cowering and grabbing his ears just like you, only his seemed worse. You wondered for just a bit if he was experiencing the same thing you have been. 

Scott gets hit in the face and you flinch. That must have hurt. You see stiles in the corner of your eye shake his head. Just like that Scott started to catch balls perfectly. You hear stiles chirp with happiness. Making you smile, he really was goofy. 

“He seems like he’s pretty good!” Allison says. 

“Very good” Lydia replies. 

You start to zone out at this point. Staring at Stiles. He was jumping around like a maniac. He’s actually super cute, isn’t he.

After practice, you make the trek home. Smiling to yourself about how well today actually went. Then you realized something. The bite, it’s healed. So is your wrist. Could the hearing and sense of smell be some kind of response your brain is making to the bite! Is it rabies. Oh dear, I hope it’s not rabies. 

Your scrambled thoughts are interrupted by a car passing by. It’s a bright blue Jeep. It stops abruptly maybe 20 feet or so in front of you. You walk up, slightly worried you’re about to be kidnapped. As you get closer you can hear who's in there. 

“Let’s just pick her up. She walking all by herself. That’s not okay!” You recognized the voice of Scott. 

“Okay, but if she turns out to be some kind of serial killer, coming for revenge of all her childhood friends. I’m leaving you in the dust” Stiles says. You laugh a bit and walked the last 10 feet up to the window. 

“I promise I won’t kill you” You say in an ominous tone. 

“Ahh!” Stiles jumps and turns around. “Jesus, you heard that? How’d you hear that? You were like 20 feet away.” Scott look at you, head cocked a bit and squinted eyes. 

“You speak louder than you think.” You say with a chuckle. “So… a ride?” 

If you have any requests or just want someone to talk to, i’m here!