#all of my free time is going into trying to practice with my band. acting in a friends student film. and making sure to have personal time

[funnydog-comics]

Why I haven't made any comics or things recently...

[unbreakabledawn]

The good part about being injured was the popsicle.

The bad part was literally everything else. Dick's chest hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, worse than any bruise or scrape or bump from the numerous falls he'd gone through at Haly's, during practice for a show, or playing outside, climbing trees and vaulting across playgrounds. Never bad enough to need to go to a hospital, just band-aids and warm wash cloths and ice packs.

We should tattoo a band-aid on you, it would save us time and money, his dad would say every time Dick scraped his knee, which was every other week. And his mom would brush the hair back from his forehead, kiss his cheek with a warm hum, and sneak him a popsicle even though it was Wednesday and he wasn't allowed sweets on weekdays.

Another pang of pain flared in Dick's chest, and it wasn't his ribs this time.

And Bruce freaking poking right where the pain was at its worst did not help at all.

"Ow," Dick yelped, scowling at Bruce.

"I'm sorry. I need to examine you." Bruce continued pressing gentle fingers to Dick's side, moving along the bones and the edges of the blooming bruise. "Is it hard to breathe?"

"No," Dick said, lips wrapped around his strawberry popsicle. "Just hurts a little. If I breathe deep."

"Where does it hurt the most? Here, or here?"

Dick used his free hand to trace the throbbing center of pain. Bruce nodded and reached for his hand, slipping a small plastic clip with a tiny screen onto his finger. "Um, what's that?" Dick asked, watching numbers appear on the screen of the clip.

"Pulse oximeter. It measures the oxygen saturation in your blood." Bruce was now pulling a stethoscope out of a set of drawers. He'd shown Dick how to use one a few weeks ago, slipped the ear pieces into Dick's ears and placed the little disc on his chest so Dick could hear the slow, steady drum of his heart. Bruce was leaning forward to place it on Dick's chest now.

"Can you at least wait until I've finished my popsicle?" Dick said, sullen, trying not to squirm as the cold metal slid across his chest while Bruce told him when to breathe.

"You can multitask. It's a useful skill to have. Lean forward," Bruce instructed, and repeated the procedure on Dick’s back.

"I'm okay," Dick said, because Bruce was acting like the one who'd crashed straight into a concrete ledge instead of Dick. He'd been practicing hand flips in the garden, and he'd stumbled on a cracked tile and fallen and hit the side of his chest on a stone flower bed. Ugh, how embarassing. His first injury after moving in with Bruce, and it wasn't even as Robin! And still, Bruce had whisked him down to the Batcave's medbay, promising him a popsicle in exchange for being allowed to check him out.

"Yes. I just want to make sure," Bruce said, worried frown still firmly in place. He was scrawling notes on a chart, because he was a freak like that and needed to document the fact that Dick was clumsy enough to get himself injured playing in the garden.

Dick sighed and licked off the last bit of the popsicle, and the juice that had dripped onto his fingers.

The sound of something large being wheeled closer made Dick freeze. He looked up towards Bruce, who was bringing some sort of machine to the gurney Dick was laying down on.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked, alarm bells ringing in his head over the whirring and humming of the strange machine.

"This is a portable x-ray device," Bruce explained while he manipulated the machine into position. "I need to take an x-ray of your chest."

X-ray? That’s what they used for broken bones, wasn’t it? Crap, did that mean he broke his ribs?

“But I’m fine,” Dick said, trying and failing not to let his panic bleed into his voice. “I don’t need it.”

Bruce paused, hands on the handles of the machine’s head pointing it towards Dick’s chest. He peered down at Dick. “It’s just an x-ray. It’ll take me two minutes.”

“You don’t need to,” Dick said, accidentally raising his voice. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Dick,” Bruce said gently. He hesitantly reached forward to brush the hair off Dick’s forehead. “It won’t hurt, you won’t feel a thing. It’s like a big camera that lets us look inside your chest.”

Dick stared up at what must be the lens of the camera. He bit his lip. It didn’t look like it would hurt. “How does it work?”

“This”—he touched the head of the machine—“sends out x-ray beams. They go through your body and this plate catches them, creating an image.” He held up a wide, black plate. “So I need to place this under your chest.”

“What are x-ray beams?”

“We can do a radiation physics lesson tomorrow, if you like. For now I need you to lean forward for me.”

He did, and let Bruce place the cold, hard plate behind his back. It wasn’t comfortable, but Bruce said two minutes. He could handle two minutes.

Bruce put on some sort of black apron, and attached a broad collar around his neck. “Lead protection,” he explained to Dick, and held up a remote that looked like the trigger to a bomb. “Ready?”

He nodded.

“Breathe in.” A buzz and a louder whirr. “And we’re done.”

Dick opened his eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Oh. That wasn’t so bad,” he admitted, leaning forward again so Bruce could remove the plate and put away the equipment. "So,” Dick said once Bruce returned to his bedside. “Are my ribs broken?"

"I don't know. Probably not." Bruce was writing something down in the chart, but the line between his eyebrows was the familiar I'm-Concentrating frown instead of a Oh-My-God-You're-Hurt frown, so Dick felt more annoyed than upset for the moment.

"What?! What do you mean you don't know? What was the freaking point then?"

"I needed to check your lungs. Rib fractures can be hard to see or even undetectable on chest x-rays."

"Oh. So my lungs are okay, then?"

"As far as I can tell. I'm no radiologist."

Dick rolled his eyes. Good thing Bruce wasn't a doctor, because his bedside manners sucked. "Hmph. Well, you owe me another popsicle. Since I let you do an x-ray on me."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, and Dick just barely caught the quirk of his mouth before he smoothed out his expression again. "You drive a hard bargain, chum. Strawberry or pear?"

"Strawberry. Duh."

-

a/n: this is 50% due to @froizetta asking me about rib fractures for her fic, and 50% due to a patient i had last week: a young girl around dick's age who started sobbing as soon as i called her name for her exam, and who continued loudly sobbing throughout the two minutes it took to take a single x-ray of her hand. she was terrified, hospitals and medical tools and big machines can be scary to little kids! i work with a large variety of patient groups and kids are definitely the ones i struggle the most with, so this writing exercise also has professional merit (<- me making excuses for self-indulgent fic)

[ao3 link]

[misshoneyimhome]

"Encore for the Heart" I Jack Drury

The Canes guys are invited to see their favourite band in concert, but Jack Drury ends up falling in love with you - the lead singer of the opening band.

Warnings & tropes: no warnings, famous!reader

Author's Note: Hey there, buttercups! In this ninth one-shot of the BirthdayFestivalChallenge, prepare for a musical adventure as Jack Drury finds himself falling for you, the lead singer of an incredible band! 🎶💖

Word count: 1.2K

➼｡ﾟ

The neon lights of the concert hall flickered to life, casting a vibrant, electric glow over the eager crowd. The Carolina Hurricanes players, a lively and boisterous group fresh from a gruelling season, buzzed with excitement as they filed into the venue. Tonight was rare—a precious night off, free from the usual intensity of practices and games. For once, they could relax, unwind, and lose themselves in music.

Jack Drury, normally the embodiment of calm, collected focus on the ice, felt a strange restlessness. He had come with his teammates to see one of their favourite bands, a night of music they had all been looking forward to, but his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t the headliner he was excited about—it was you, the lead singer of the opening act, the artist whose name had been whispered with awe across various circles. Jack had heard about your voice, about the way it could fill a room with emotion and leave people breathless. But he wasn’t prepared for what was about to unfold.

The lights dimmed, and an electric hum of anticipation rippled through the crowd. The applause swelled as your band stepped into the spotlight. Jack felt his pulse quicken. When you emerged from the shadows, something shifted in the atmosphere. You commanded the stage with a presence that was undeniable, as if you owned the very air you breathed. The way you gripped the mic, your posture exuding both confidence and vulnerability, made the room go still, hanging on your every move.

And then you began to sing. Your voice, rich and powerful, poured over the audience, weaving a spell that left Jack utterly mesmerised. It wasn’t just the notes you hit, though they were flawless. It was the way you sang, as if each lyric carried a piece of your soul. There was something raw, something real about the way you performed—an intensity that made the crowded hall feel intimate, like you were singing just for him.

Jack’s heart pounded in his chest, an unfamiliar flutter stirring within him. This wasn’t just about the music; it was about you. As the songs unfolded, he found himself completely captivated, unable to look away. His teammates, usually rowdy and chatty during concerts, faded into the background. It was as if the world had narrowed to just the stage, and you, standing there with that incredible voice, were the only thing that mattered.

When your set came to an end, the applause erupted into a thunderous roar. Jack was still trying to catch his breath, feeling a rush of emotions he couldn’t quite place. He watched as you and your bandmates made your way backstage, his gaze fixed on you the entire time. His teammates were already talking about the next act, but Jack couldn’t focus. He had to meet you, had to know more.

With a mix of determination and nerves, Jack followed the stream of people moving toward the backstage area. His hands felt clammy, his heart racing like he was about to take the most important shot of his life. He scanned the crowd and finally spotted you, laughing with friends just outside the dressing room. Summoning every ounce of courage, he approached, his mind whirling with anticipation.

“Hi, I’m Jack,” he said, his voice carrying a slight tremor of nerves he hadn’t felt in years. “I just wanted to say... your performance was absolutely incredible. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

You turned to him, your eyes sparkling with surprise and warmth. “Thank you, Jack. That really means a lot. I don’t usually get to meet people from the hockey world at my shows, so it’s nice to hear such kind words from someone outside the music scene.”

Your smile was disarming, and Jack found himself caught in the effortless charm you exuded. There was something so genuine about you—something that drew him in even more. He relaxed a little, the initial nervousness slipping away as you chatted easily about the performance and life on tour. Jack shared a few stories about his hockey career, and you listened intently, your eyes lighting up with interest as you swapped tales about the challenges and joys of your respective worlds.

The conversation flowed so naturally, Jack almost forgot where he was. It felt as if you had known each other far longer than a few minutes. You were funny, thoughtful, and grounded in a way that took him by surprise. By the time the venue had started to clear out, Jack realised he didn’t want the night to end.

As the last of the crowd trickled out, you offered to walk Jack to the exit, and he gladly accepted. The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the glow of city lights reflecting off the wet streets, making the world seem almost dreamlike. Jack glanced at you, his pulse quickening again, but this time it wasn’t from nerves. It was excitement—a spark of something new and unexpected.

“So, um,” he began, trying to sound casual, “how about we grab a coffee sometime? I’d love to hear more about your music… and maybe share a few more hockey stories.”

You grinned, a hint of amusement in your eyes, but also something else—an interest, a curiosity. “I’d like that,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “Let’s make it happen.”

Over the next few weeks, Jack and you met up several times. What started with coffee quickly turned into something more—long walks, late-night conversations, and endless laughter. You showed him hidden gems in the city, places he’d never known existed despite living there for years. Jack found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t in a long time, sharing pieces of himself with you that he usually kept guarded. With every story, every glance, he fell deeper for you.

One evening, with the sun sinking low and casting the sky in brilliant shades of pink and orange, Jack took you to a quiet spot by the river. The scene was serene, the water gently lapping at the shore while the city hummed quietly in the background. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he turned to face you.

“I know this might sound crazy,” Jack said, his voice barely above a whisper, “but from the moment I saw you at that concert, I felt... something I can’t explain. You’ve brought a kind of light into my life that I didn’t even realise I was missing.”

You looked at him, your eyes shimmering with emotion. “Jack, it’s not crazy at all. I’ve felt it too. Meeting you has been like... finding a part of myself I didn’t know was missing.”

In that moment, everything else seemed to fall away. Jack leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It was soft, sweet, and filled with promise—the beginning of something neither of you had expected but both knew was real.

As the days turned into weeks, that fateful night at the concert transformed into a romance filled with joy, discovery, and a deep connection. Jack couldn’t help but feel grateful for that evening, for the chance encounter that had changed everything. The neon lights of the concert hall had flickered to life, but it was your presence that had truly illuminated his world.

[keelt9]

Chapter 8

Masterlist

My morning run was a necessity, especially this morning, of course I was nervous but surprised with the funny thrilling emotions. I heard around the park where I used to run a few boys and girls talking about the unexpected news and making their bets about who could be the not so mysterious girl who is dating Max Vertappen.

Matt’s call makes me stop. “You’re in the middle of a tornado.” I scoffs a different type of <Good morning>

“Hi, how are you?” I heard him laugh. “I know, but there are three girls in the first place.” Those girls who have been spotted with Max were the first bets but just one is practicing archery and then me.

I heard the soft click of the bowstring when you release it, he’s practicing. “You don’t ask but here, you take the lead in the bets.”

I spit the water I just drank. “WHAT?!” He laughs, then the sound of the bowstring, one more time.  

“We’ve been talking, all pretty excited.” The conclusive evidence is the photo of Matt claiming no one could recognize at least you’ll be a fan or know more than the basics of archery.

“And you said it was hard to know.” I walk back home as we keep talking.

In the Rehabilitation Center all seems calm, trying to keep professional as much as they can but you can see in their eyes the excitement, as I cross the reception I see why, Max is here. Not alone, Charles, his sidekick in all this mess is here too.

I tried to act calm but as I walked closer to them I felt a heat rising in my face. Thankfully Anton covers me well, he reaches me and leads me to the other side.

“Not so fast, we have outdoor practice.” Anton smiles, making me turn to the garden where he already set a target and Liam is waiting with all his things set.

The weather was tricky. There was a strong wind for moments, the humidity was high making it hard to find the right grip and technique. 

“There you are, that’s the spot, try again.” Laim said as I take a small breath and tense the bowstring, I feel the wind start getting strong so I make the release. I feel the burning sensation one more time but this time in two parts at the side of my chin and in the middle of my chin.

“Auch.” I touch both parts with my finger and I see the blue tapes of my finger with a dark dot. “I’m bleeding.” 

Liam cleaned the wounds and put on the aid bands. “We can stop.” I shake my head, I’m winning strength stop right now could make me lose it.

“It’s ok, this could hold at least another half an hour, right?” Liam smiles proudly and nods. “Let’s go.”

Said and done, I got better. I found the confidence to hold the position longer waiting for the right moment making a perfect release hitting the 9 multiple times, when I felt the tape start to soak, I stopped.

“Ok, let’s treat these wounds or they could be infected.” Anton said taking me inside the center, where they clean one more time and cover the wound properly. “Take a couple of minutes and we finish with some exercise, all right?” Anton patted my shoulder before taking all the aid kit.

I walk where Max told me they usually do some workout; the rooms that are set up just for them can be used for free. I see people coming out practically covered in sweat but they hold the door so I can enter without a problem.

I walk where I can see big machines, Max’s head is pulled to one side as he is stuck to the seat, his face contorts for the effort he does in his neck, people around him having all eyes on him.

“You must be Y/N.” I jump scared and cover my chest with my hand. “Sorry, sorry, I scare you.” 

I turn around, Charles is with his thermo on his hands cleaning the sweat with a towel from his face. “Charles, nice to meet you.” He extends his hands with a small smile on his face. 

“Hi, yeah, I know you, his tricky teammate, huh?” I shake his hands as he laughs, closing his eyes.

Along the post of Max, Charles innocently posted a story with Max playing padel at the back you can see British flags, that was the last cue for they know Max one more time is in Milton Keynes. 

“I’m so sorry, I’ve heard about the rumors but I thought it was… you know, lies.” He points at Max with his eyes. “But he already explained it to me.” I watch Max as he relaxes and the team takes off all the things around his neck. 

Max is chatting with the team. “You know… He is quiet as hell, it’s extremely weird he does something out of the ordinary, but look at him now, he is watching an archery competition from time to time and read a lot about that, he even tried to explain to me.”

I smile feeling shy now. “Trust me, it’s strangely endearing to see him like this.” I see him. “If you need something, don’t hesitate and ask me, I’ll be happy to help.”

“All right Max, good job, let’s take a break.” One of the men around him said, taking all the stuff from him. 

“Go, I’ll take these guys with me for you to have a couple of minutes.” Charles giggles and calls them.

One by one politely say hi to me, but cover my sight from Max and his from me, so when all goes Max was still sitting red faced, drinking his Red Bull almost choking when he sees me. 

“Omg, hi.” I walk faster and hug him with both of my arms around his neck as his around my waist. “I’m covered in sweat.” He mumbles.

“Oh, and I’m not?” He laughs and turns away, his eyes switch to a worried expression.

Softly he grabs my face and sees in detail the aid bands probably starting to turn red. “Did you hurt?” 

“It’s a burn.” I take his hands between mine. “Feel proud of me, I'm working hard.” He scoffs and kisses my cheek.

“I feel proud…all the time.” He has that smile. I love the one that hides his eyes. “Please, just take care ok?” 

I nod and grab him by the neck to kiss him. “I have to go, they just gave me a couple of minutes.” He kissed me back. “And I… already enjoy the view.” He couldn't hold the laugh.

He stands and walks with me to the door where we found Charles one more time talking with some people, he excused himself and walked back. 

“I hope soon we see you in the paddock.” Both smiles, making me recall the conversion I had with Liam.

Maybe in a couple of weeks I won’t be able to see Max so often, so I must take every chance I get. “Not in the paddock, but I’ll go to Monza.” Max almost spit his drink. “Well if I still found tickets.” I laugh. “I better go.” I look at my cell phone, Liam is waiting. “I’ll call you later, ok?” 

Max grabs me. “Hold on, hold on.” He shook his head. “You mean it?” He has suspicious eyes. “You’ll go?” 

I smirk. “Unless you don't want it.”

“Are you joking?” He grabs my hand. “I’ll love having you there.”

My phone buzzes; I don’t need to look, Liam must be at the border of frustration. “I have to go. “ He nods but just when he’s about to kiss me we hear a couple of voices coming to us; he bluffs and still lets me go.

The last day Max was in Milton Keynes before leaving for the week race, I couldn’t avoid ask myself how am I going to deal with the distance, the relationship, our training, his races and my competitions. However just looking at him and his eyes that always brings me peace are enough to let me know that is something we figure out with the time. 

Sunday night Max called me to tell me that even if be in the terraces he arranges everything so that I can be on time for the race, the only thing I should worry about is having my suitcase ready.

Mia and I were talking Saturday morning on my way to the fabric of Red Bull where Violet is waiting for me, a special favor I asked for. With Violet without notice we already built a friendship.

“It’s ridiculous, come on!” Mia keeps complaining about in this “game” all points to a young archer totally the opposite of what people saw and described Max was.

I giggle as I get down from the cab. “Mia it’s fine, I mean, it doesn’t bother me.” I hear her scoffing.

“Well, they’re blind that’s what I know, and…” She makes a sound of exasperation. “Listen I know you want to have things in private but this starts to feel like you want to hide something.” 

I quiver for a second before walking inside the fabric. “You are two people who know each other and have a lovely feeling growing up, it’s not like you commenting on a crime, for christ sake!” I laughed but Mia’s words already planted a seed. “Sorry, don’t… just don’t listen to me all, right, is your relationship, it’s your decision.” 

“Thanks Mia. And don’t worry, I know what you say because you love me.” I imagine her bluffing, rolling her eyes. “I have to go.”

“Have fun…Oh, if you can, only if you can, bring me an autograph of George, you will be the best sister in the universe!” I see Violet coming out the doors, there is no need to get inside. 

“Bye Mia.” Violet smiled when she saw me.

“Ready?” I nod. “Let’s go, it will be a quick flight but we must be there on time.” 

Monza it’s a whole new world to me, as we get to drive I’m amazed by the architecture, the people, and the weather all seems surreal to me. When we arrive at the track and we get down, Violet starts to give me instructions in case I want to go to the garage by the end of the race.

I heard her for at least 2 minutes but the noise, people coming and going, the press running right to the paddock entrance and the little seed Mia planted on me gave me an idea.

Unbelievable, that's how I can describe the experience. The parade where all the people shout the name of the driver who support the flags and poster of different kinds, the kids with the illusion in their eyes were incredible; the sound of the cars waiting the the green light and the adrenaline that runs every time you are able to see a car relative close, screams for specific type of actions and the claps when the drivers cross the finish line, feels surreal.

1-2 for Max and Checo with Lecrec taking the P3, a good day for Red Bull and Ferrari.

“Max, almost a perfect weekend, a pole position, winning the race, just the practices didn’t go as planned, you seem fresh and clearly set your position for winning one more time the championship. A good sign that amazing things are happening around you.” A reporter asks and he answers with the calm but confidence he has learned in all these years.

“Yeah, the team works hard, I’m pretty focused on what I’m doing when you find the balance and combine things well, the results speak for themselves.” He smiles, the last question wasn’t a question.

“Congratulations one more time Max, a big celebration waiting for you.” Max narrows his eyes but lets it pass. 

I can imagine him with one question “What are they talking about?” He asks as they leave but the girl who has at his left answer. 

So let me rewind for you.

Violet smiles wide open when I tell her my change of opinion, and I laugh when she’s already prepared for the change. 

“This is going to be wild.” She smiles as we change our path to the paddock. Mia is right, private doesn’t mean hide, so what the hell, I can deal with other things later.

Just took us 5 cameras for finally one of the reporters recognized me. I don’t know if it was because of the things on social media or actually knows who I am but after taking a good look at me his eyes turn wide open.

He touches the shoulder of his cameraman before running where Violet and I were walking, I feel my heart race faster and faster.

“Morning Y/N, a surprise to see you here.” I greet them politely but they know what they have to do. “Can we take it as a confirmation?” 

I chuckle and I smile at the camera. “I’m here to support the Red Bull guys.” He chuckles and as we walk he knows just one more thing to say before entering RB facilities. 

“A nice surprise, congratulations.” Violet fights hard for not making a sound and remains with a poker face but as we cross the doors, she jumps over me.

“THAT’S WAS… WOW.” She gained a lot of eyes. “Wait a minute and this is going to buzz every second.” She pointed to her cellphone.

Actually it took more than a couple of minutes, but it does, when the first image appears with the title. “A nice shot.” My cellphone turns crazy too, an endless stream of messages, mentions, tags and a few calls from friends, family, people I met from the tournaments have one question in common. 

<Is that you?> 

I met the people I have to meet all with a polite welcome and smile. I wanted to surprise Max by the end of the race in the crowd but there was already a big fuss around this so I changed and waited for him to finish what he had to do and surprise him in the garage. I don’t take in account that actually someone could ask or say something related to.

In the screen where I watch the full race, a happy Max is running to the garage with a few cameras as he runs to the corridors. I hear the “low whispers” increase and Horner even GP whispers too.

“Get ready.” One of his mechanics said to me and patted my shoulder.

I only had two seconds before Max appeared running, making a faster scanner to the garage. “This way Max.” Horner says, pointing in my direction, he smiles but I run to him first. 

He hugs me, both arms around my torso and lifts me, the photographs of Red Bull in the front line taking good pictures. My arms around his neck let me hide my face.

“Thanks for being here.” He whispers to me before letting me down. “Let’s keep our best angle for us.” He kisses my forehead and hugs me one more time. 

“All right, all right, just authorized people please.” A boy says making the media go to the limits they had just leaving the cameras of Red Bull who stop taking pictures and leave us with a smile on his face. 

“Welcome to the family Y/N.” GP said and let us in our white crystal ball.

The official accounts of Red Bull published the classical congratulation to the team and the photo but in the last slide Max and I appear hugging each other.

<Big result to our bulls. All the arrows in the blue and yellow zone! 🏹>

“This is crazy, congratulations guys.” Checo said to us before leaving the paddock with his family. “Go and have some fun.” Was his last words before closing the door of his van.

“Oh please, no.” Max whispers in a low voice as we walk to his van but he grabs his hand around mine. 

I follow where his eyes are stuck and I see Daniel and Russell walking right to where we are, clearing gossip about something.“Hey Max!” Charles says, raising his hand. “And hi, Y/N, right?” Max bluffs.

“I told you, I’m out, tomorrow we can celebrate.” I got it. Sadly even if I want to go, I have an early flight tomorrow; Liam let me go to the races but the training and session in the week must continue no matter what.

“It’s ok, you can go…” George giggles and shakes his head, Max notices my confusion because he smiles at me softly.

“They just came for gossip and bother.” Max jokes before introducing us properly. “Is that enough?” George and Charles giggling and nodding. 

“What? We need to meet the girl who has been in your mind.” George raises his shoulders. “It’s a pleasure, now, we’re going to stop, and let you enjoy your night.” 

Mia will kill me if she knows I have him closer and doesn't take autographs with me. “Actually, could you give me an autograph?” Max opens his eyes as I take out the marker I carried with me.

“From him?” George nodded and autographed a cap I bought from Mercedes, just in case the miracle didn't happen. 

“Yeah from him.” Daniel laughs at Max's expression.

“For?” George asked and I said the name of Mia. “Ready.” 

“Let’s go Gorge before Mad Max appears.” Daniel jokes and I see Max's expression, completely surprised. 

I giggle and I turn around to face him before they disappear in the cars, I look side to side and kiss him, he gives up after a couple of seconds pulling me closer by my waist.

“I need to talk with Mia.” He rolls his eyes, making me laugh.

By midnight I found videos of me even from my first years in archery, even some points of view I can bet I never saw before. My personal accounts are increasing in followers, and I even received some messages, this is crazy.

Max came out of the bathroom after taking a shower, clearly tired but before he sees it, I want to tell him personally.

“Do you have a minute?” Max choked his head and smiled at me who was in the middle of the bed facing to the wall, with my cellphone in my hands.

“Always.” I press my lips together trying to smile but this is not my favorite topic for a late night talk.

I pat the bed for him to sit, facing each other, I put my cell phone where I already have the video prepared; I put it on and you can see Matt shooting an arrow hitting the small circle. 

“This is the last round of my last competition.” He raises his eyes but down immediately, on the screen it’s my turn I tense the bowstring but easily you can see my nose is scrunchy, my shoulder was killing me at that point.

“At that moment I lost the line of the shoulder, Matt and Laim noticed right away but we… we can’t just stop.” I shot the arrow barely reaching the 9 and the cameras took my face screaming in pain.

<Yes, something is wrong, Y/N; just look at her face, something definitely is not right.> The commentators said, as they focused on Matt one more time but at the back I kept moving my shoulder trying to get rid of the stiffness, if you zoom you would be able to see my teary eyes. 

<Just Y/N need a 7 for winning, otherwise, they lost just for one shot> Max furrowed his eyebrows, clearly bothered. 

“You can barely raise your arm.” I scoff because he quickly notices. “You must be in such pain.” He grabs my hand.

I shot my last arrow, it was like reliving the pain. I remember biting inside my cheeks and tasting an iron, I released the bowstring immediately bending in pain.

<THAT’S A 10, BUT OMG, Y/N IS BENDING IT SEEMS ALL POINT TO BE HER WRIST> Liam and Matt run, you can see him asking questions and grabbing me, my breath was irregular but I tried to calm.

“I'll call a doctor.” Laim said but I grabbed him, faking a smile. “Y/N…”

I stand up straight with a fake smile however enough to convince everyone I’m in pain but happy. Then everything was blurry, I remember going to the tents for a quick check up, where the doctor told me it was a fracture, still he needed more analysis to have a full diagnosis.

“After that I remember I kept praying all the ceremony, <Please let me compete tomorrow please>” Max let my phone to his side. “Marie Anne and Liam tried to leave in calmness, but the reporters were already out the building asking me about my arm, my wrist, if I talk with the team.” 

I close my eyes, as an athlete you are exposed to a lot of things, I always knew that but I have never been so vulnerable and at the same time so scared about not even knowing how I am.

“I feel the cameras just a few centimeters from my face.” Max softly caressed my hand. “For weeks I read in the news, hear in the T.V and listen in the radio the failure the girls had, the responsibility I had along the magnitude of my injury.” 

I looked at him. “I left home because I want to have a full recovery to prove myself that all is false and…” I scoff. “Prove to all, they don't see my best years.” 

Max has soft blue eyes. “And a thousand of miles from home I found you.” I stand so he can stretch his legs and I can sit on the top of them. “I found something so wonderful.” I give him a peek in his forehead. “So full of stubbornness.” He smiles and I kiss the freckle on his cheek. “So proud of who he is.” I kiss the freckle in his lip. “That gives me so much peace.” I kiss his mouth.

“I…I found the most stunning person.” He laughs pulling me closer. “Thank you… for making me feel, and be better.”

He grabs my face for kissing me with so much tenderness, so much love; I put my arms around his neck like if we can be more close, was the lack of air that made us split.

“You thank me? I should thank you. I know you feel uneasy about what could happen when you have to move back home but… I'm always going to find you.” I see straight to his eyes. “The only thing you have to do is have patience and wait. We make this work, count with that.”

I nod to him but when he hugs me I hate to admit it but my father is right in something. 

<You can't live in a crystal ball forever.>

[ghoultrifle]

it's mushy may time, bitches !! thank you @forlorn-crows for the prompt list and general organisation <33

prompt: cuteness aggression

relationship: sunny/swiss

word count: 750

summary: sunny sleep talks and swiss finds it unbearably sweet. it's very silly.

please be kind, i am not very practiced with writing anything that isn't porn. rbs are appreciated and will hopefully mean i do more than one single prompt in the whole month sdjhfskjfhk (feel free to play the game of 'what funky word did i learn today ?' eheheh)

read on ao3 or below the cut :))

“No you can’t delete the watermelon, it’s in the desk!” Sunny mumbles, her mouth partially blocked by the pillow she’s unceremoniously shoved under her.

Swiss awakes, ready to whack his love with said pillow. “Shine, it’s early, go annoy Mountain please?”

“The shoes can’t go in the wall, they’re too hot!”

A smile creeps onto Swiss’ face. It’s a uniquely vulnerable experience, being on the receiving end of a sleep talker. Sunny has no idea what her unconscious brain is feeding her- or perhaps vaguely catapulting towards her in the hopes that something will stick. Yet Swiss has the honour of being there for the barely-formed, mismatched set of words that leave her mouth. He knows they’ll giggle about it in the morning as they always do; Sunny attempting, to no avail, to connect Swiss’ feedback to her hazy memory of the dreams her brain concocted for her viewing pleasure. It never works; the nonsense she spouts seemingly untethered from reality altogether, plucked from a different plane of existence, perhaps one where footwear temperature is a real concern for its occupants.

Sunny continues to lie fast asleep, the tendrils of sleep latched onto the depths of her mind, keeping her peaceful while her brain whirs, stirring her thoughts but not her vessel. She’s sprawled out on the bed. Head to the side and mouth wide open, in what looks like an effort to chew the pillow. In reality it’s acting as less of a neck support and more of a drool-catcher as spit tumbles its way out and onto the floral design.

Swiss only looks on in admiration, the moonlight creating a shimmer in the puddle as it soaks into the fabric. His smile grows wider, fangs catching on his bottom lip. He likes to think Sunny’s body wouldn’t let her talk in her sleep if she didn’t on some subconscious level feel safe with him. It’s a testament to the bond they’ve created topside, inseparable since the day Sunshine was summoned; partners in crime, wizards of whimsy, goofy guys. All silly ways of saying ‘I love you’, which is exactly what Swiss wants to shout from the rooftops.

“It’s not my fault you flew into the glove,” she snarls.

“Is too! You had the map, sunflower,” Swiss tuts under his breath playfully. He’s careful not to wake her when she’s like this but he can’t help joining in on the shenanigans once in a while. He’s imagining a tunnel, for fighter jets- or perhaps drones would be more suited to his skillset- it’s got one entrance and five exits, each one representing a finger on a glove. In his on-behalf-of-Sunny-dream, he’s in control while Sunny’s frantically trying to unfold a comically large map that supposedly holds the secrets to navigating The Glove. He’s asking her where to go but the map is unfolding ad infinitum and before they know it he’s flying through a finger hole (the middle one of course) lest they crash into the purlicue (The webbing between your thumb and forefinger, Swiss, how do you not know that? He thinks back to Aether and his endless list of things you didn’t know had names).

Jolting out of his trance, Swiss realises he may not have been as awake as he thought during his own dream-like sequence. He leans into his weary state, the dumb smile on his face returning. As he shifts on bed, carefully trying to manoeuvre his mate’s hand, Sunny decides she has other plans. A small hand with not-so-small claws abruptly finds itself on Swiss’ face, nipping him ever so slightly.

“I really love him, Lus, he’s always there for me,” she whispers, and Swiss can’t take it anymore. His internal jar of love is spilling over and his nervous system is screaming at him to let some out. So he does what any normal person does and bites Sunny, in the little nook that’s just the right size for him to gently sink his teeth in. 

“It’s a purlicue!” He mocks in a hushed tone, as best he can with Sunny between his teeth, hoping his wave of quintessence is strong enough to puncture Aether’s sweet dreams with a million images of weird hand parts.

In the morning Sunny will admit to Swiss that she did remember the dream where she was talking to Cumulus. She’ll leave it there though because she doesn’t have the heart to tell him it was actually about a sentient grocery bag that followed her around to carry her shopping.

[around1302]

YOU WROTE ME

SPARE PARTS: blurb 1/1

THE TROUBADOUR, LONDON

(W) strong language, alcohol use, brief smut: if u can call it that

THIRD PERSON’S POV

9 MONTHS POST-SPLIT

“Why can’t you just trust that it’ll be fun?”

“Because you don’t even know who’s playing! What if it’s some screamo guy and I get traumatised.”

“Please, Charlie, you’ve met my friend. You think he’s going to guitar for a screamo guy?”

Charlie pauses, remembering everything she can from the brief meeting between her and Becca’s friend at her house party last week.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

Becca rolls her eyes, nodding in gratitude at the bouncers who let them into the Troubadour, past the lines and lines of people. Charlie has to admit that’s promising, at least. Surely a hundred teenage girls wouldn’t be queueing for something unworthwhile.

“I thought as a musician you’d be buzzing for a free invite to the Troub!”

Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes, now.

“The Troub?”

“Let me pretend I’m in on the lingo, too.”

“God, you’re just making it worse.”

Becca is Charlie’s only remaining friend from her pre-band days. In contact far too little, but enough to see each other in between schedules. Becca manages a restaurant in London, and throws killer house parties every Saturday. It’s ritual.

Of course, with band life, Charlie barely ever attended. But since the split and a (much too long) nine month hiatus from the industry, she’s had a little more time for living her 20s like she never entered that competition in the first place.

“You want a drink?” Becca shouts over the already loud crowd. Just as Charlie opens her mouth to answer, her forearm’s gripped so tightly she’s sure the blood supply’s been cut off.

“Oh my God! Charlie Greene?” A girl practically screams in her face, holding the hand that isn’t keeping Charlie there in a death grip over her mouth.

Despite her usually extreme routine when it comes to being avoided in public, Charlie assumed tonight could be a one off. Who would recognise her in this crowd, in this venue? Panic strickens her before Becca has to step in, shoving the girls palm off.

“Dude, don’t touch strangers like that.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just such a huge fan. I can’t believe you’re here! We all thought they were just rumours.”

“What?” Charlie’s dumbfound, forgetting all that media-trained ‘smile at the fans, don’t let them know you want to punch them’ bullshit.

“You know, you and–”

“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice kid, but we’re just trying to enjoy our night. You want me to buy you some alcohol to get you to go away?”

“Becca–”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, of course. E-enjoy your night.”

The poor girl scurries away, screaming something to her group but Charlie’s too riddled with guilt to hear what.

“For fuck’s sake, Becs, she’s like sixteen!”

“Gripped you like a forty year old WWE champ though, look at your arm!”

Charlie glances down, noticing the white and red splotches beneath the hazy blue lights. Becca has a point, even if she was a little harsh about it.

“Screw the drinks, let’s just get backstage before anyone else tries to cut off your circulation.”

Nodding, Charlie follows Becca through the crowd, making sure to keep her head down this time. Of course they’re asked for IDs and stage passes before getting through, Becca proudly letting security know they’re friends of the guitarist.

“I’m so proud of Mitch, man. He’s come so far. Can you believe he used to work in a pizza shop?”

“I know, it’s impressive shit,” Charlie nods, hugging her hoodie tight to her chest. Something bad swirls in her gut as she watches the audience from the safety of a thick curtain, seeing whispers and screams shared.

“You don’t think that’s about me, do you?” She points for Becca. Becca scoffs.

“Nah, don’t get too up your own ass, Char. The act’s probably about to come on.”

The band will be entering from stage left, opposite to them both. Charlie has to admit she’s curious. It’s been forever since she’s attended any kind of underground gig, it’s exciting – what music’s really about.

“Gemma Styles.”

Until that moment.

Ears ringing, throat drying, sweat forming. Charlie grips her hoodie so tight her knuckles blanch – she’s wrong, she has to be. It’s just her mind and anxiety playing tricks on her. It’d be impossible for–

“No way, Charlie?”

“Fuck.”

“… Charlie?”

“I mean hi! Sorry, hi!”

Pretending her ears aren’t still painfully ringing, Charlie accepts the open arms of the woman in front of her. Specifically, the sister in front of her. Her ears stop buzzing enough for her to hear Becca’s gasp beside her, and enough to hear her heart coming up through her throat.

“I can’t believe you’re here, it’s so good to see you!”

The one thing Charlie never understood was how Harry could be so intolerable and Gemma could be so… Gemma. Despite the ugliest truth she’s discovered in a while coming undone, she feels somewhat comforted by her hug and her words and her smile.

Perhaps they’re all a little too alike Harry, or perhaps the opposite. She can’t tell. There’s a lot happening.

“Yeah, um…” at a complete loss for words, Becca quickly steps in.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca. Friends with the guitarist.”

“Oh, Mitch! Isn’t he amazing? I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.”

Charlie shoots Becca a pointed glare. She apologises again, a little more sincerely this time.

“So does Harry know you’re here? Bet he’s thrilled, are the others here?”

“Um, no. And no. Not that I know of. I’m actually here for Mitch, too.”

“Oh, I–” Gemma frowns, understandably confused, but is cut off by the house lights dimming and some opening music starting.

Charlie pinches at her arm beneath the once soft material, it only now feels scratchy and too thick. Should she run? It seems like her only viable option. Except her feet are failing her and it’s too fucking late because–

“Hi everyone! I’m Harry, it’s a pleasure. This is my wonderful band, and we’re going to play a few songs for you. Starting with a new one, this is Complicated Freak.”

Frozen to her place, Charlie listened harbouring feelings she couldn’t quite place. Part of her wishes she had just done those few shots before she left like Becca had quite smartly suggested, but a larger part of her wishes she never came.

Because fuck, has she missed him.

She’s missed his voice, and his hands, and his eyes, and his dimples, and she could say she’s missed his hair but that’s gone with the last nine months. She missed watching him concentrate entirely too hard on playing the guitar and she missed watching that crease form between his brows as he closes his eyes and just feels the music. His music.

The music that sounds eerily familiar. Then suddenly flashes of a tour bus come to mind; long hair and slender fingers strumming a guitar. Lyrics that rendered a little to close to home but were promptly ignored at the time now echo the venue, echo her chest.

“Thank you so, so much everyone. I’ll see you soon!”

Harry lifts his palm to the roaring crowd, intimate and small yet still as deafeningly loud as she remembers them always being for him. Begging for an encore, or at the very least one more wave.

But it’s only then that she realises, still stuck to the floor, that he’s taking his guitar off. He’s offering the audience one final bow and kiss, and he’s turning, and he’s walking, and he’s grinning ear to ear and accepting his friends and family’s congratulations, and then he’s stopping, and he’s staring, and his lungs have stopped and his heart has faltered and–

“You wrote me.”

His lips quiver, paused in an effort to say the right thing. Say anything.

“Yeah, I…”

It’s as if the venue and people around them grew wings and flew away as time itself stopped just for them. The first time they had seen eye to eye in the time you could grow a whole fucking baby for God’s sake – and yet they could barely speak. So much unsaid, it’s almost too much. What do you start to say to the love of your life – who you lost?

Luckily, the people around them didn’t actually grow wings.

“We’ll see you later, H,” his older sister squeezes his dead arm, nodding towards Charlie (as if she saw) and then the other confused onlookers who had developed behind them during the show but fuck if Charlie noticed.

Gemma leads the group out, leaving the pair of them in a silent standoff, the muted sound of a dying crowd and crew starting to clean punctuating the quiet.

“Drink?”

“I wanted to call you so many times.” Charlie finally admits, three double vodkas deep.

“Why didn’t you?” Harry almost whispers four whiskeys in.

Malibu’s, their old, usual haunt, has been avoided for the last nine months. Not a single band member dared to go, whether it be that Zayn no longer bartends there or that they were afraid of memories. But it felt like the only place for them to be right now. Elbows leant on the same sticky counter, knees pressed together in their tipsy mis-care, no time passed yet the whole world between them.

“I was scared.” Charlie begins. “I needed time, and after I realised that you leaving us didn’t really matter in the end, I was too late.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Harry. I saw the tabloids. A month after we split you were seen with this person, that person. You had moved on from us, from me.”

Her confession is startlingly sobering, and Harry can’t help but gulp down a painful lump at the way her eyes water. Harry hadn’t moved on in any sense of the word, Harry was simply trying to find Charlie in anyone he could. The way in which he had coped with his web of feelings for the woman for the past six and a half years.

“I could never move on from you, Char. I was just… lost.”

Charlie snorts, turning to down the rest of her drink.

“Baby I–”

They both freeze. Harry didn’t mean to call her that, but God, doesn’t it feel natural? Isn’t that why it slipped out in the first place? Yet, a slap in the face would have felt better for Charlie. The vodka gets caught in her throat, the once warm liquor running ice cold down her chest.

She turns, her heart melting at the sight of his face. It’s that same heartbreaking, broken concoction of regret and worry knitting his brows and dripping from his eyes. And it has her lips hungrily on his.

He catches her, grabbing her hips as he opens his legs for her and draws her to his chest, breathing in every inch of her. Because that’s what kissing Charlie is like. Oxygen for the first time, water for the first time, life for the first time. His rough hands snake up her back, grip her sides, pinch her skin. Her nails rake at the nape of his neck, muscle memory expecting locks to hold onto but finding short curls as their home instead.

Their tongues and lips work in an unspoken agreement, all the way to her new apartment by the bar, all the way to her bed.

They didn’t speak. They were both far too terrified to lose this moment. They just needed each other, the touch they’d both been desperately chasing for months. Charlie closes her eyes as Harry’s mouth starts its attack on her neck and is transported to Louis’ apartment, where she first felt that same desperation.

“Please.” She breathes, wrapping her legs around his hips, eliciting from him a muffled groan as she grinds up towards him. He nods into her neck, his lips still working down her soft skin. She still tastes the same, that strawberry vanilla he could drink by the gallon.

Charlie claws at his back, making an attempt to remove his black button-up as he moves down her body. She just about manages it as he settles between her legs, pushing up her denim dress without grace or care before biting the edge of her knickers.

The heels of her feet press into his toned back, her palms already fisting the sheets as he harshly grips her hips to push her back into the mattress.

A million thoughts run through Harry’s head, but fear holds him back from saying a single one of them. Months ago, he would’ve told Charlie everything. How good her thighs feel, how fucking pretty she looks laying there, needy for him. How much her soft little pants sound like she should be begging for him, how hard he is for her like this.

But he can’t. For all he knows, he’s simply a mouth right now. He’s not Harry, he’s just something she needs, and fuck if he’ll be whatever she needs.

So he bites into her inner thigh, sucking away the sharpness as she grips and tugs at his hair. He moans into her skin, eyelashes fluttering against her hips as he kisses the top of her pubic bone. His touch is rough in every place but his lips as he makes a path to her core, pressing teasing kisses over her clit. Her knickers are fucking soaked through, and the sight alone is enough to send him berserk.

“Charlie, I’m gonna have to–”

“Please, just–”

With that sliver of permission, he reaches down, squeezing himself over his trousers. The slightly relieved pressure has him gasping against her lace, which quickly becomes wetter. Charlie sits up on her elbows, watching Harry touch and squeeze while he continues to tease her.

And it’s there. In between the need and the pleasure, Charlie begins to cry. Softly, quietly, but enough to garner Harry’s distracted attention.

“Hey, hey,” Harry moves back up her body, tugging her dress back into place as he squeezes her hip, “I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s fine.” Charlie’s voice cracks as her head hits the pillow, hot tears quickly meeting her hairline before she can wipe them away.

“Sweetheart–”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” Charlie murmurs between gritted teeth, sending Harry aback. He sits up on his heels, his touch slowly leaving her. Charlie presses her palms into her eyes, squeezing the tears out as she muffles sobs against her hands.

“That’s the problem.”

It’s hardly above a whisper, but Harry hears every last syllable. Leaning back over her, he removes her fists, gently brushing her blotchy cheeks.

“I’m just drunk and emotional and weird and–”

“Stop it,” Harry murmurs, pulling her up to sit in front of him. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” When she doesn’t budge, he drops his head and whispers, “please.”

Charlie finds his eye. In so many ways, he’s unchanged. He still looks at her like that, and it crumbles her, just as easily as it did all those months ago.

“Everything got so fucked up, Harry. The band, me, us. I haven’t sang a chord in months. I see the guys, what, once, twice a month? And you…”

“It’s my fault, Char.” Harry sighs, collapsing beside her, rubbing his face. “I left, I split everyone up–”

“You needed to.” She interrupts, stern. “I didn’t realise at the time, it took me a while to accept it, but you needed to. Niall was starting a family, everyone was starting to burn out, even if we didn’t want to admit it.”

“You did the right thing.”

Those fives words are all that Harry’s wanted to hear for nine months. He’s spent countless, sleepless nights wondering if he’d messed everything up for everyone, forever. If in his selfishness he’d forgotten to use logic.

“I’m just not sure I did.”

Harry frowns, turning to look at Charlie.

“What do you mean, Charlie?”

“I worry that I was… hasty. Rash.”

Harry can’t help the small smile that starts to tug at his lips. He lifts his knees and rests his chin on his palm to hide it.

“I did a really messed up thing, you were justified.”

“No.” Charlie sighs, looking at the ceiling. “I was right to be mad, but I wasn’t right to have said all the stuff I did. I was especially not right to leave you.”

Harry’s chest jumps, but he tries to calm his excited heart before Charlie can finish. When it comes to her, there’s no real predictability. She might be about to destroy him all over again.

“Those six years mean more to me than anything I’ve done in my entire life. You were there through everything, every shitty and amazing thing, all I can think about is flashes of you. My sister, my audition, my first heartbreak, my first– I could go on and on, but the point is, you were there.”

“Even if you annoyed the shit out of me for the better part of it, you’re my life, Harry. I was stupid to think I could ever live it in the same way without you.”

It’s impossible to fight his grin, now.

Charlie finally turns to face him, instantly rolling her eyes at the sight of him. His entirely too wide smile, his glinting eyes and how they quickly flit to her lips, the twitch between his brows that lets her know he’s holding back a comment.

And despite his speechlessness, his answer is obvious.

“You sure you don’t want someone easier?” Charlie lilts, swaying into him.

“Why on Earth would I want anyone else?”

“I don’t know. I yell at you a lot.”

“I’d rather have you hate my guts than have anyone else.” Harry takes her waist, easing her beneath him again as he hovers over her. “I’ve spent my entire life waiting to hear you say that, you know.”

“Entire life is a bit dramatic.” Charlie drapes her arms around his neck, her fingers finding his nape. That hair is going to take some getting used to.

“Nope,” Harry pops his P, leaning down to press a kiss to her jaw. “You’re my life too, Char.”

She leans back into the pillow, her thumb circling his neck. “You mean it?”

It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, now.

“You really have to ask? What more could I possibly do to prove to you that you’re it for me, you always have been.”

Charlie smirks. “I could think of something.”

“Always thinking with your dick, Greene.”

Charlie lets out a scoff, and Harry let’s his chest do whatever it wants.

@lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

[mintymelty]

YHS: A Serialization [] 1. A Funny First Day

════ ⋆💙⋆ ════

Hi.

Today’s September 1st. A Tuesday, and the first actual day of school.

You may be asking why I look so emo.

To make a long story short, I slayed too hard at my first highschool, was bummed out too much at the second, and now I’m currently attending Yamada High on what accounts to academic probation. I even have my own cop in my dorm! Well she says her name is ‘Kim’ and that she’s my cousin but she’s basically a probation cop. And a snooty one at that.

💛: “Oh, you have to go to the REGULAR literature class? Well, good luck with the PLEBEIANS, I’ll be on my way to ADVANCED PLACEMENT-“ Go away, I don’t like you.

But whatever, there’s this “cool” guy chatting up a storm with some other student, and said student looks bored AF. For the last few minutes he’s been making the rounds across Mr. Draco’s classroom (which I have no idea how; with the way he acts, I thought Mr. Draco hated any form of conversation) to try and… IDK sell them a used car?

◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

🌻: “So, you new here?” ‘Cool Guy’ whipped his head around to face me.

💙: “Yeah.” Duh?? Not to be rude, but no-one’s ever seen me here.

🌻: “Cool! Cool.. I like your jacket, you do sports?”

💙: “No, not yet. Never really had the chance to get into extra-curricular stuff.”

🌻: “Oh, really?”

💙: “Yeah… I mean I guess I have plenty of free time right now, huh?”

🌻: “If that’s the case, are you free this Friday?”

💙: “WOW, I don’t even know your name-“

🌻: “Wha?- I mean I’m in a band and we’re having a garage concert this Friday. My bad.”

💙: “Oh! What music are you playing?”

🌻“How do you feel about… indie rock? You seem like the kind of girl to be into that.”

💙: “I do? What about me gives of that vibe?”

🌻“I dunno, just your outfit? Like you’re kinda just all around chill.”

💙: “Okay then, what bands are you covering, or will the music be, y’know original?”

🌻“They’re kinda obscure.. have you heard of Nirvana?”

💙: “…Yeah.” BOI. MY DUDE. WHO HASN’T HEARD OF NIRVANA?“Well then sure, I don’t have anything else to do. Where’s the spot?”

🌻“Hm… 2033 Miller Avenue, City of Industry… I dunno somewhere in Traum County.”

💙: “Traum County..” I’ve heard of that place before.. oh yeah! I have- well, HAD an uncle there. I think he got shot.. “Ok, I’ll go. What time?”

🌻“About 7 P.M.”

💙: “So the Redstone link should get me there 30 minutes early-“

🌻”Redstone link?? Uhh if I were you I’d just ask someone for a ride.”

💙: “Wait- why?”

🌻“Traum’s metro’s are kinda shady.. but it’s like not that big of a deal, just don’t go near the Sky station.”

💙: “..Okay. I’ll see you there.”

◁◁ ► ▷▷

Huh. That was actually kinda nice, even though I didn’t get his name.. oh well. It’s too awkward to just ask him right now, considering the teacher finally got up from his desk.

✒️: “Now class, I HOPE you all have your outlines for your introductory essay done??”

Uh. About that…

👥: “Yes, Mr. Draco.”

✒️: “Good. Class dismissed. Go to period 2.”

Okay, so I’m alone on this. At my last school, practically nobody would’ve answered him like that, and some “class-clown” would instead cuss him out. But whatever, it’s a good thing people are nice here.

…Right?

════ ⋆💙⋆ ════

[cheiyunn]

Kimisute main story [5部] Part 2

Side: GYROAXIA  

[Sharehouse]

--[Door opens]--

Reon: Kenta-san..! Is Nayuta okay!?

Miyuki: Did his asthma get worse, or?

Ryo: It didn’t look like that though…

Kenta: ………..gh

Miyuki: Oi Kenta. What's going on

Miyuki: We’re all worried sick y’know. Can’t you hurry up and explain–

Kenta: –they said it was ‘Sudden Deafness’.*

Reon: …….eh

Reon: hey wait a moment… sudden deafness…? The kind that if not treated immediately can lead to permanent hearing loss one..?

Miyuki: you’re… joking right…

Ryo: Kenken…

Ryo: For now, let's sit down. Kenken looks like he’s about to faint too

–

Kenta: …first, Nayuta will be admitted to the hospital for the next few days

Kenta: While he strongly said he’d be out by tomorrow, it was best to keep him hospitalized further in order to not worsen the symptoms

Ryo: Its reassuring that Nayuta seems piper enough, for now, that’s a relief on its own

Miyuki: But, the ‘deafness’ part that Reon was talking about earlier… it won’t get better?

Kenta: That was highly likely in the scenario where it’s treatment had been delayed. But, it seems like Nayuta had previously been to the hospital for it

Reon: What !? But he.. there weren’t any signs of it

Kenta: When he collapsed, I had found medication in his room that wasn’t prescribed for his asthma 

Kenta: …recently, have any of you noticed Nayuta acting strange maybe?

Ryo: Maybe from a little back, the amount of times Nayuta paused during practices did get less

Reon/Miyuki: Ah…!

Reon: Then, you’re saying that from even then, Nayuta’s ears weren’t working properly !?

Kenta: Sudden deafness only affects one ear, is the common consensus 

Kenta: The doctor said that a lot of people rather choose to ignore the blockage or tinnitus, which makes it worse in its stead

Kenta: But since Nayuta has good hearing, I’m sure he noticed it immediately and went to the hospital

Miyuki: So then, he’ll get better?

Kenta: …they’re unsure

Reon: unsure… so that means…

Kenta: At the moment, he’s receiving the highest level of treatment to alleviate symptoms. But the cause…  and even if he’ll be cured, the doctor said they can’t say for sure either…

Reon: But thats…!

Kenta: ….its…my fault

Ryo: Kenken, that's not right. It’s not your fault

Kenta: No it’s MY FAULT ! IF ONLY I PAID MORE ATTENTION TO NAYUTA’S CHANGES !!

Kenta: Just how many… how MANY TIMES am I going to repeat this cycle…!?

Miyuki: –CUT IT OUT ALREADY ! !

Kenta: ….gh !?

Reon: wha– Miyuki-san !?

Miyuki: Why can’t you stop trying to shoulder all this shit on yourself !

Miyuki: Yeah, GYROAXIA is a band made for Nayuta. No ones disagreeing with that now anyway

Miyuki: BUT, with where we’re at now, we’re bound to hit the plateau y’know ..!

Miyuki: If we let Nayuta do what he wants all the time, one of these days his throat is gonna give in and GYROAXIA is over just like that !

Miyuki: AND YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU’RE OKAY WITH THAT !?

Reon: ….miyuki-san….

Miyuki: Hah….

Kenta: ….miyuki…

Miyuki: …what now..

Kenta: Punch me

Miyuki: Wha !? …I mean, YEAH I feel like pummeling your face in right now but I’m really trying to hold it back y’know !?

Kenta: I know. You’re free to hit me like that.

Reon: wait um, Kenta-san, calm down…!

--[Ryo flicks Kenta’s forehead]--

Ryo: okie-dokie, that’s enough

Kenta: Ryo…?

Ryo: Miyuki-kun’s words really stung right, Kenken. You want him to punish you for that, right?

Ryo: So, that was a punishment-level forehead flick. It’s settled

Ryo: It’s true that GYROAXIA’s center is Nayuta but, GYROAXIA’s leader, is you, Kenken

Reon: That's right. If anything, I believe Nayuta’s the one in the wrong here !

Ryo: What we’re going to do now and later on, let's think about it together okay?

Miyuki: Yeah. You’ll be using us well right, Leader

Kenta: You guys… yeah.. thank you

* Sudden sensorineural hearing loss / SSHL I think?

[invisibleraven]

confessing feelings when you think the other is asleep, peterpatterlina

Apparently tumblr posted this half way through writing, so please make sure you read the one with tags to get the full story!

"Thanks again for letting me stay guys," Luke said as he set his bag down on the bed.

"You know it's never a problem dude," Reggie replied. "It wasn't like we were let you live out on the streets while they fumigate your building."

"Let either of us know if you want anything," Julie offered. "Supper's in twenty, so get settled and we can eat."

Luke shot them a thumbs up but sighed as the door closed. It's not that he didn't appreciate Reg and Jules putting him up, but given his notebooks was full of half-finished songs about how deeply in love with them he was, he could have gone for another option.

Unforetunately, Alex and Willie were out of town, his relationship with his folks was still testy even though the band had a signed contract and the first album almost done. Flynn was in the middle of finals, and Carrie was doing a phone free weekend with her dad.

That left Luke with little recourse but to stay with his two crushes.

It was only for the weekend-he had survived longer on the tour bus with them. But on the tour buss they had gotten sick of each other, so it was acceptable to retreat for as much alone time as they could. Here he couldn't use that excuse.

Hell he could probably tell them how he felt-it probably wouldn't go horribly. But it would be awkward for a time as they tried not to lead him on and he tried to get over these feelings, like he hadn't been trying to do just that practically since they got together.

He had always found both Reggie and Julie attractive-who wouldn't? He knew he could easily fall in love with them, but figured friendship was more important. But they had gotten together in senior year, and Luke suddenly realized that he wanted to be a part of them. It had hit him like a flash of lightning, and the feeling hadn't faded.

He didn't think they suspected-they still acted the same towards him-as tactile and kind as ever. But every touch, every smile, every note they sang captured his heart even more.

He refused to say it though-he couldn't bear to lose anyone else that loved him after the rejection from his folks. He would suffer through until he died if needed just to keep even the platonic love they offered him over nothing at all.

Dinner was lovely-Julie had a talent for cooking-and the three of them always had something to talk about, laugh over, or turn into a song.

Julie and Reggie turned in early-they were planning on visiting Ray and Carlos the next day and had volunteered to make breakfast.

"You stay up as long as you want though," Julie encouraged him. "Sleep in tomorrow, raid the fridge and whatever. We'll probably be back before supper."

"You want me to cook?" aksed Luke.

"You mean order a pizza?" Reggie chuckled. "Sure thing."

Luke scowled a little, but then had to laugh himself-he was a notoriously bad cook, and he knew it. He was a decent baker, but he had to be in the mood to whip up a batch of his famous brownies.

The two of them went up, but Luke kept himself busy for a bit-rifling through the books, but not finding anything he wanted to read, channel surfing but only finding talk shows, and eventually he headed upstairs himself, content to strum on his guitar a while.

He was working on a song-yet another about how he felt about his friends, and this one was close to being done. The rest were half finished dreams and semi-formed sentences that cluttered up his pages. This one though...

He tuned up his six string, and began to strum, finding the right chord progression, playing the opening, and then let the words ring out.

My heart is all but ripped in two Half for him, and the other for you I couldn't choose but I never could Couldn't love the way they say I should

Maybe it's greedy to love you both But I can swear here, under oath That you've captured me heart and soul Need the two of you to feel whole

Love is love is love so they say Couldn't have it any other way Three may be a lot for all but few But I know I won't be complete without you two.

Luke stopped there, smiling at what he had so far.

"That's beautiful babe," Reggie said from the doorway.

"Where's the rest?" Julie asked, wrapped around Reggie.

"I-it's not done yet," Luke admitted. "How much did you hear? I thought you were asleep."

"Kinda hard to sleep when you're being serenaded," Reggie said with a chuckle. "Worth missing the sleep."

"Who's it for?" Julie teased.

"You know," Luke said, blushing hard.

"Well I have to say we feel the same," Reggie said, sitting on one side of Luke, Julie the other.

"And we'd be honoured to help you finish the song so it has a happy ending," Julie said, squeezing his hand.

"We always do write better together," Luke admitted. "Are you sure though?"

The kisses he got in response were answer enough, and the song ended up being their first hit. And by the time it had gone triple platinum a few years later, Luke had his own spot in their home-with Reggie and Julie on either side of him, the three of them singing their children to sleep with the song that had brought them together.

[fastnights]

feather

eddie munson x female reader

summary: reader is happy she got out of a relationship with eddie. inspired by sabrina carpenter’s song feather

a/n: i do not give permission to copy my work!

not my gif

you and eddie were watching a movie at your place in the living room and out of nowhere he says, “listen, y/n i know where spending time together now, i just feel like we’re not spending enough time together, i feel like you spend so much time with robin and not me and i’m the one you’re in a relationship with.” he said. you on the other hand was taken aback from his little out burst. “excuse me? i spend all my time with you and i barely even spend time with robin because i’m with you and why is there’s a problem with me hanging out with a friend?” she asked him.

“you literally do spend most of your time with her and i feel like we should spend more time together because we’re the ones in a relationship not her.” he said. “you’re not gonna disrespect my friend when i do spend more time with you even when you have band practice or after your little campaign at school.” you said. “listen i can’t keep doing this with you, everyday it’s you coming for me or robin, i’m tired of arguing with you about the same shit eddie.” you added. “what are you trying to say? are you breaking up with me?” he asked. “yeah i am, because i feel like i can’t do anything with you, like i can’t even hangout with robin without you thinking i spend more time with her, so yes we’re over, you can go get your stuff and go.” you said as you watched him grab his things, you walked him to the door and when he walked out and turned around, you shook your head and slammed the door in his face.

y/n was feeling lighter like a feather because she was no longer in a relationship with her long term boyfriend of four years, eddie munson. she finally felt free knowing that she doesn’t have to worry about whatever he does without her, she is a free woman.

while you were with him it was constantly arguments, eddie getting mad that you’re hanging out with your friend more than you do with him, which is not true, you spent more time with him than your own best friend. it was always mix signals with him and you’ve had enough of his shit and had to end the relationship then and there.

“i just don’t get it, he always complained that i spend more time with you than i do with him, he was wrong for that, like after he goes to his club we literally spend the rest of the day together.” y/n said to her friend robin. robin was listening to y/n ranting about her now ex boyfriend, but robin wouldn’t call it ranting. “he had no right to say that y/n. when you two were together we didn’t spend that much time together but him getting mad and starting a fight because of that is crazy.” robin said. and robin was right. you and robin were having a sleepover at her place, you just didn’t want to stay home because you broke off your longest relationship and you don’t want your parents getting involved. in your problems.

eddie always acted like a bitch towards robin and that night that you broken up with him was the last straw you had with him, you don’t even feel bad about breaking it off with him, you glad you’re a happy free woman. you don’t even care if he misses you or that he wants you back or that he regrets what he said to you, he should’ve thought about it before he even said it.

y/n was happy that she has her best friend robin around and that robin agreed to a sleepover at her place, she knew y/n needed girl time after that breakup y/n just went through. “thank you robin for letting me stay here for the night, i really didn’t want to stay home.” y/n said.

“of course y/n that’s what i am here for as your best friend, as girls need to stick together through everything, the good and the bad.” robin said. you was grateful to have a best friend like robin, though she never been in a relationship, she knows how it feels going through heartbreak. though you feel heartbroken you feel happy you’re not in that relationship anymore even if you love eddie so much the way he was acting towards you and your friend was enough to walk away from the relationship. “i’m so sorry for his loss.” you said as you laughed a bit, she joined in with you. “yup he loss someone so amazing, y/n you’re so amazing. and i’m not saying that because you’re my best friend, i mean it.” robin said. you smiled at robin, “thank you robin, you’re the best.” you said.

part two maybe?

[runningpsychic]

CalderaFest: A short GVH fanfic

Author’s note: this is 100% me just trying to process my own emotions after playing a music festival. GVH gave me a framework on how to feel after being chosen for CalderaFest, but not for how it’d feel after playing CalderaFest. This is my attempt to express those feelings through the eyes of Fang.

0

"This is it", said Fang to themself, as they walked alone onto the stage at CalderaFest.

It felt like forever since Trish quit the band, but the events of that night were still fresh on Fang’s mind. Reed quit the band shortly after, as it just didn’t feel the same without all three, so Worm Drama became a solo act. Fang was honored that LJ chose them for CalderaFest, but that sweet victory was tainted by the bitter taste of the split.

"Trish did say I could do CalderaFest solo, and I need this as my ticket to a successful career. I've put too many eggs into this basket to turn back now."

The show was everything Fang could've dreamed of. A big stage, a cheering crowd, and a sick guitar. Once Fang started playing, it's like everything else around them just melted away. The crowd becomes one amorphous blob, and time becomes abstract. There's nothing but the music, and Fang. It’s the closest thing to heaven a musician could wish for. Songs came and went. The midi controller worked overtime as it took on the job of two band members. Playing these songs felt like second nature to Fang, having practiced them so often, not to mention they wrote most of the songs.

The spotlight was blindingly hot. Fang has never felt more seen in their life. Isn’t this what every musician desires? To be heard? Fang spent so much of their life trying to be heard, literally and figuratively, that it almost feels wrong to have such a large audience. Did they really deserve it?

"Thank you! Now for my last song, 12 o'clock!"

This was originally a song with the whole band, but after that night at Lava Java when they played during a power outage, the song became better known as an acoustic track. Most fans don't even know what it sounded like with the entirety of Worm Drama behind it. Fang strummed the opening G chord.

"Took my time to get it all worked out"

Fang thought about all the times that Worm Drama has auditioned at Lava Java. All the new songs they wrote, trying to make the dream work. They practiced every day after school, tried to get gigs at various places (and getting kicked out), and in general, just trying to get noticed.

"At 12 o'clock i'll write a manifesto, it's a way to go"

Fang thought about how their parents disapproved of their career path, but they still soldiered on, determined to follow their passion. After all, what else do they have? Maybe if they were successful, their parents would finally approve of them, and their gender too.

"It's just the blinking of an eye the culmination of today"

Fang thought about how Trish became more and more distant from the band. Having to raise her sister after her mother died, and having to balance schoolwork and band practice with what little free time she had left. Maybe if they had been more sympathetic to Trish, she wouldn't have had to leave the band. But now, it is too late.

"All the things I didn't do I guess it's over"

As the final G chord rang out, Fang could barely make out the audience through the tears. This is their moment. They made it to CalderaFest. Fang opened their wings and waved their guitar in the air at the cheering crowd. But if this is it, why did they feel so….conflicted? Isn't this supposed to be a moment of triumph? But that doesn’t matter right now. It’s time for celebration.

Naomi was waiting in the green room as Fang made their way off the stage. Emotions were high. Fang had just fulfilled their most important dream. All of their friends were front row in the audience to cheer them on. Fang and Naomi embraced, and Fang excitedly talked about the show while Naomi helped them reapply makeup.

+1

Fang woke up in the afternoon the next day, alone in their bed. The events of the previous day have exhausted them. As the events from that day settled, Fang felt…numb. Fang didn't feel any more like a Real Musician after the performance than before. Was this it? Was this the life they signed up for? How was this single performance supposed to turn into a career? Sure, performing at CalderaFest comes with bragging rights, but that doesn’t exactly pay the bills. The revenue from the show couldn’t even afford a tour van. The meager amount of merch sales did not help either. A new text came up on Fang’s phone.

Naomi You did amazing last night! I am so proud of you! Fang Thank you!

Fang didn’t really know how to express their feelings in a way that would be coherent to anyone else. It would sound incredibly ungrateful to say they felt nothing after the show, or that they felt even more hopeless about their future. Fang felt like the only emotions they were allowed to have were excitement and accomplishment, but there they were, feeling down, wishing they were back on that stage, but at the same time wishing it never happened. Is this why celebrities get broken by fame, because they can’t just go back to normal life? Were they wrong to dream about performing at CalderaFest?

Fang thought about the band. How much they wished they could have shared that moment on stage together. Fang thought about the spark, and what kept them going through all those years of failure and disapproval. Why was it that they kept making music despite it all?

Then it hit them. Those songs weren’t written for anyone. They weren’t even written for LJ. These songs came from the deepest corners of their heart. They are a cry into the world, a way for Fang’s feelings and thoughts to be heard. They weren’t written for anyone, they’re written for Fang themself.

"Fuck this. Music isn’t about success. I will keep writing no matter what!"

It doesn’t matter if Fang could turn music into a career. Maybe it’ll work out, maybe it won’t. But even if it doesn’t, it by no means diminishes their passion as a musician. Fang will always be a musician.

[stormblessed95]

Hi stormy!! You once told us that you watched bts contents with your partner and you just implied that two members of the group are may be romantically involved and he somehow guessed the members you're talking about? 😂 I'm not sure if i remember correctly but i remember reading that post intensely and with huge envy 😭 i so relate to that tweet: "my love language is watching bts contents together" i always tried to watch bts with my mom and sister (because I'm single af duh) but they sometimes indulged me but it's quite rare. They just don't like seeing me in hyperfixation mode. I'm also lucky enough to have got one of my friends to watch gcfintokyo with me but she was not that impressed 😌. She has the same reaction when i excitedly rambled to her JK LENT HIS STUDIO FOR JIMIN TO DO HIS BIRTHDAY LIVE, but then i guess maybe because she didn't know jk and jimin like us and why is it significant. So far, she only has watched bts bon voyage with me. Even with her calm reactions, I was so thankful to have at least someone to talk about my favourite boys. Sometimes I'm clearly aware none of them will have the same reactions as me and i know it's not their fault. They just were not interested. So I'm terribly jealous of you 😭 you both are so cute btw and I'm more than interested if you talk about your personal love story. I'm just rambling my immature feelings 😂 sorry if this is annoying and sorry for my english too. Also stormy, if you can, will you suggest some old contents that i should watch? Whenever i have free time to watch bts contents I'm always indecisive. Which concert or shows do you think is a must-watch for army?

I do watch some concerts with my partner! Not all, sometimes when I say I'm waking up at 3 am to watch the BTS concert he looks at me like I'm crazy and is like "okay babe, well I love you. Enjoy. Wear headphones please" 🤣 but if it's a rewatch (like PTD on Disney+ or just older concerts and he is free at the time) he will sit and watch with me and so will our kids. Same if the concert is happening at a more reasonable hour our time. Lol or will we all sometimes watch MVs, or Dance practices or run bts together. Not all the time, but it's nice when it happens!

And yes, lol I don't remember at all now what we were watching when it came up, since it was a long time ago. I hadn't mentioned before anything about shipping at that time, but i remember saying something about how even though shipping is so weird, sometimes it seems like there could be something there between 2 of the members. And he just went "oh yeah, you mean Jungkook and Jimin right?" And I said "why did you say them??" And he just made some off hand comment about how it seems like they act around each other from the little he has seen in ways that make it seem like they love each other the way he loves me. So for him if someone in the band was dating each other, it only made sense (in his head) for that to be jikook. For extra context, he is a Hobi bias, JK bias wrecker. And Jungkook was the first member he noticed and paid attention to in the group too. The hickey sealed the deal for him. He is pretty darn convinced at this point lol

Absolutely watch all of Bon Voyage or Run BTS if you haven't already! As for shows or concerts, you should go back to the beginning and see those if you can too! Their red bullet tour! The live Trilogy tour from 2015 too! Literally pull a concert tour name out of a hat for them and you can't go wrong honestly. LYSY concerts are INCREDIBLE. Any of those would be a really really good watch. 5th muster was EXCELLENT and should definitely be watched in full. I mean like honestly, pick ANYTHING and you'll have a good time! If you need help finding links to anything let me know and I'll try to help!!

[blood-injections]

HAI ID LIKE TO DISCUSS UR BAND AU. how does kobra as the vocalist work with his semi-verbalness?? or is he not semiverbal in this au?? tell me all about it pls!! /nf

HII YES YES my wifis acting up rn so I havent been able to post about this au but as soon as its back up I'll be band au posting soo much. Okay so in this au I write his autism and semiverbalness a lot like my own and I'm still figuring out like. The vocalistisms. But it's basically like, hes nonverbal until hes comfortable around people and as long as he isnt overstimulated you can't shut him the fuck up. And once he joins the band and starts playing more and gets experience being a frontman the comfortable around people part kind of goes away because he gets really confident and cocky. Like as long as he isnt overstimulated or his voice just decided to turn off for no reason- because sometimes theres just really no reason or predicting it and its annoying- most of the time he doesn't shut up. But also he has his thing where like if he's really pissed off, in this case at bli because this au starts off based within battery city, and theyre trying to 'fix' him and poisons a bit of an asshole sometimes with trying to get him to be like, following the rules and staying safe because theyre in no way loyal to bli but they havent been bitten by the rebellion bug yet ya'know? Kobra kind of drags them into the band and becoming killjoy stuff later on lmao. But anyway hes very pent up and full of rage all the time and theres a fine line between going nonverbal or screaming about it. And once he joins the band- because he finds Ghoul and Sandman jamming out on the street like with buckets and a homemade guitar just to stir up trouble and is like. Wow. And then crows come and everyone scatters and he ends up running with them, then they become friends and once hes comfortable around them and hes just hanging out while theyre practicing or something or just listening to old music and he starts singing along and theyre like. Damn boy you can sing what the hell??!? And hes like oh i dunno at first when they're like bro you should play with us you're good but he ends up going like fuck it and becomes the vocalist and its just like. He discovers he kinda loves it. Its an outlet for everything and the thrill of directly doing something illegal(because music, especially this kind, is outlawed) and dangerous just gives him an adrenaline/seratonin high and he can just let the fuck loose and screams their shitty punk songs.

Then Poison and Jet join the band and they all leave the city(not sandman, hes just there as a jam buddy for ghoul and kobra in the beginning, the suitehearts have their own thing going on that I'll expand on in their own post later). Anyway once the shows over and the adrenaline like wears off usually all the stimulation hits at once and he goes nonverbal like when I'm like hanging out with friends or performing and having a lot of fun but then we all go home and i sit down on the couch and am just like. Oh i had fun but i cant move or talk or anything now. Spoons zapped. Worth it tho. Its like that for Kobra. Shows usually go off without a hitch unless hes had like. A really bad day sometimes he cant sing so he sits aside on an amp like bundled up in a comfort jacket and cheers his band on silently and someone else screams in his place lol. Practices, since they're just chill, sometimes come when he isnt verbal, it just depends on the day yknow, so its like. When he is verbal sometimes he'll randomly start singing if hes working on his bike or not really doing anything like. Oh better get the practice in while i can. Because like i said earlier he isnt self conscious at all, hes a frontman hes a shameless bastard lol.

Anyway uhh I think I explained that pretty well feel free to ask about anything else I Need to talk about this au fhsjnd <3

[itsokbbygrl]

Get to Know Me — Tag You’re It Edition

Thanks, Liv @5oh5 , for tagging me :)))

1. were you named after anyone?

I wish my name was cooler. My parents picked Elizabeth from the Bible (even though they aren’t religious???) and Jane is my paternal grandmother’s middle name. I’ve reclaimed that I was named for Lizzie Bennet and Jane Austen because I really do be that fictional woman lol. Oh and fun fact! I was adopted as a baby and my birth mom named me Cristina Marie but that is not what ended up on my birth certificate, so here we are, now I have the most insanely British name ever conceived.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Like 10 minutes ago lmao I cry all the time

3. do you have kids?

nope

4. what sports do you play/have played?

I was v serious about dance growing up, then added in acrobatics, soccer, softball, figure skating, volleyball, basketball, and ran track and cross country. If it was offered in my tiny town, I did it.

5. do you use sarcasm?

I used to all the time, but since learning more about neurodiversity, I try to use it a lot less to make my language more accessible.

6. what's the first thing you notice about people?

Face and hair, then if they’re being nice to the people around them

7. what's your eye color?

Blue

8. scary movies or happy endings?

¿Porque no los dos?

9. any talents?

Singing, acting, dancing, I’m v athletic, I’m also hella smart

10. where were you born?

Chicago, IL

11. what are your hobbies?

Reading, driving 3+ hours to see friends lol, singing

12. do you have any pets?

Our family has a Shiba Inu named Charlie and he is so ornery and adorable.

13. how tall are you?

5'4”

14. favorite subject in school?

Biology and English (but only in middle school), and music (band and choir) if we’re going non-traditional academic subjects

15. dream job?

Lowkey? Being a mom, I’m really good at it and I’ve had years of practice as a nanny with kids ages birth through 15. Highkey? I do not dream of labor. But if I have to do something to contribute to the wellness of the greater society and pay wasn’t an issue, I’d love to be a teacher or a barista.

NP tagging: @swiftispunk @genovmalkinn @eeveedel @javierpena-inatacvest Mads I think you already did this so feel free to ignore

[mccoys-killer-queen]

Seeing LA Guns for the 3rd time

this was last sunday 7/2/23

I drove 5 hours to get to western pennsylvania for this show

its the only gig LA Guns is doing in PA this year so i was extremely obligated to go

I was 4th in line for GA. This venue is like,,, primarily a restaurant? They do this thing with early entry where they sell like 100 early entry tickets and you get in an hour early

Even an hour later after like 50-100 people went inside, THE FLOOR RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE STAGE WAS COMPLETELY EMPTY??? Everyone was just off to the sides at their tables eating???

when i first got in and tried to get my photo pass, they for some reason had all photo passes listed for the opening act? so they weren't gonna let me photograph LA Guns?? so I told them that i was granted the pass from someone IN LA GUNS, and then the manager came over, took one look at the list and shook his head and waved me away and said "you're good, you're good"

So naturally of course I picked a spot right against the stage, just to the left of the center

I stood there for a bit looking around and fiddling with my camera, then suddenly I hear "did you have any problems getting in?" and I turn around to see if that person was talking to me

I turn around and who is coming up to me but none other than ACE VON JOHNSON

I was so surprised by him showing up randomly so I went "oh my god- HI???" and we hugged and he asked again if I had any problems, and I told him about the list being wrong

he told me they (the band) were having problems too (amps were still how many hours away and they were desperately trying to get them transported to the venue)

he then told me that if I had ANY problems, to come get him and I 🥺🥺🥺🥺💙💚💙💚💙

the ppl around me at the stage staring at me after Ace left because i'm That Bitch 😏

i was so giddy after he left it was SO HARD TO ACT NORMAL BC MY STUPIDLY HUGE CRUSH ON HIM JUST AVALANCHED ALL OVER ME AGAIN

there were so many lug-headed cocky old fucks bragging about their "connections" and meanwhile I actually proved it right in front of them

literally the second I saw Ace on the side of the stage, Here Comes My Girl by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers started playing in my head

so there was no barrier... and this stage,,, was literally... a foot and a half off the ground. i was practically ON the stage. i could've just bent my knees and BEEN KNEELING ON THE STAGE

that being said, I CANNOT POSSIBLY PHONETICALLY STRESS HOW C L O S E I WAS TO PHILIP ELIZABETH LEWIS

the best description i can think of to get the point across is that I literally could've licked him multiple times if i barely leaned forward, like i had to LEAN BACK BC HE WAS PRACTICALLY ON TOP OF ME

i thought of biting him or pulling his shirt with my teeth a few times but i didnt let the intrusive thoughts win

Phil does the thing where he tucks a lil bit of his shirt into the front of his pants

WHY IS PHIL HOTTER NOW THAN HE WAS LAST SUMMER LITERALLY LIKE 👌👌👌🔥🔥

phil going "the sound system crapped out during soundcheck, so we're gonna have to do this ONE HUNDRED PERCENT FUCKING LIVEEEE"

phil going "we got ourselves a Sunday gig (bc the gig was on a Sunday) call this the Church of Rock!!!"

Phil always feeling the need to imply at every show that he and Tracii fucked

Phil giving me crazy eyes right at my camera

I caught ace looking at me at least once during the show 😳

I WAS AFRAID THE WHOLE TIME THAT HE WAS GONNA GIVE ME A PICK BC HE'S GIVEN ME A WHOLE PACK FOR FREE BEFORE PFPLSLQLGLLHFKD

phil introducing Kiss My Love Goodbye with "this song is about a lot of girls who all have one thing in common: they dumped me." *CROWD BOOS* "I know, i know! hard to believe, right?"

Phil always calling ace the young and pretty one

ace looking around then pointing at himself and going "me???" every time he does this

Ace spit on my face while he was yelling and it was magical

Phil coming to the front of the stage at one point just to fist bump me 🥺 he like was looking at me then came forward

everyone around me immediately wanting him to fist bump them too

his knuckles were COLD?

Phil literally being on top of me half the time it was magical i had to look STRAIGHT UP BC HE WAS LITERALLY 3 INCHES AWAY FROM BEING PRESSED AGAINST MY BODY

ace let me touch his guitar Uwu

at the very end of the show Ace took off his guitar and just handed it to this girl who was standing in front of him the whole time

and then he just

walked offstage

the girl (aged 21) holding the guitar was making the O_O face, motionless and holding his guitar by the neck

a roadie came over and took it back

i was so seethingly jealous of this girl at first and was like "god she's prob a pick me girl who does she think she is" and now we're friends on insta ndndkaksvkdks

i was also directly in front of Johnny the whole time and he's such a cryptid

[the-trinket-witch]

Practically Perfect Ch. 3

  (Ch 4| Ch 2|Ch 1)

  The night for everyone dragged on, and the morning could not come soon enough. Albert maintained his scheduled morning: Dress, Breakfast, Clean. He didn’t stay long to eat with the other residents, as once they were plated he disappeared out of the kitchen, being replaced with the sounds of dusting, moving crumbling furniture, sweeping and the like.

    Ace piped up with a mouth full of toast, “Can’t tell if he’s still mad or just really wants to clean.”

    “Haven’t met a guy who actively likes cleaning as much as he does,” Deuce added, “Acting like he’s expecting company soon…”

>…..

>I think that’s just how he is, at this point…

    “Ya, maybe you’re right,” Ace replied, “Man...He does kind of a bunch of stuff to make this place feel kinda like home, and with all that crap happening yesterday…”

    Grim chimed in, “He looked like he really wanted that apology’ve yours to land. Ya think all that time he spent yesterday was tryin’ to smooth things over so you all could go home?”

    “I-I hadn’t thought about that...He didn’t get collared, so Riddle obviously wasn’t mad at him… Ahhh, Dammit! I gotta apologize to Riddle and now him? Maaan~”

    Breakfast finished quickly after for the four, and Albert was waiting at the door to see them out. Like any good parent, he made sure their supplies were on them, everything had been packed, and asked a reiteration of the objective for today was.

>You needed us to find a bunch of recipes for you right?

>I got the email still: recipes and a…thesaurus? 

    “Yes, that’s it-I do apologize for the sudden rush, but I believe it’s about classtime, Freshmen! I do look forward to what recipes you’ll bring me, but please take. Your. Time. Spit-spot, of you go now!” Albert called as he hastily pushed the band to the door, closing it with equal haste behind them. They exchanged looks between each other in confusion as they resided to head to class.

    With the house now, for the most part, to himself, Albert felt more free to lean into his cleaning fervor. He set his pace with a stereo playing music of all kinds, singing along on occasion. Cleaning had pretty much finished inside by noon, and with a satisfied huff, retreated to the now passable kitchen to prepare. Hours passed there as well, but he’d kept an eye on the time, and with not a moment too soon finished as the gong of the doorbell rang. Albert answered the door to find Riddle there, close to knocking on the door this time. He seemed braced for impact, possibly anticipating another to answer.

    “Ah, Hello again, Albert. I hope my punctuality hadn’t caught you off guard, I’d understood ‘anytime after three’ as three on the dot,” it seemed Riddle was anticipating explaining himself.

    “Certainly not. Please, come in. Would you care for a tour or would you prefer refreshments before tea?” Albert asked from the side of the doorway, bidding Riddle inside. “I understand you are typically scheduled for tea at four, but pray-tell, is that ordinance from The Queen, or personal preference?”

    “It’s preference, though as someone in your territory, I can be remiss for this afternoon,” Riddle conceded. His eyes wandered the foyer while his host closed the door behind him.

    “Understood-I am more than willing to accommodate to preference. On the interim, then, might you indulge in accompanying me on a tour of our ‘facilities’?”Albert asked with outstretched arms to show off his hard work.

    “I am quite interested in what you have done in, what, three days since school started? The lounge is in quite a surprising shape, already,” Riddle scanned the lounge, noting the lack of dust, the cozy rug under a wholly new sofa. “Lead the way, Dorm Leader.”

    “I do try; granted, it isn’t Royal Sword Academy, but ‘tis quite a touch better than a finger in the eye. Please, follow me.”

    The tour made a loop first through all of the first floor. A couple of the ghosts floated between the walls or poked out from doorways to see Riddle jump. Al chided each attempt at a scare, as well as placing a reassuring hand on Riddle’s shoulder. As they entered the kitchen Albert made for the basket on the table, and retrieved a small glass bottle filled with a pink, viscous liquid to be put in Riddle’s hands. A small tag tied around the bottleneck read,

Rose Syrup: For refreshments, dessert, etc.

-A. Eastwind

    “I have some to try once we’ve sat down-so that one is for your personal use,” Albert mentioned before motioning back out to finish the tour. The tour had finished back in the lounge, at which point Al prompted Riddle to stay put for a moment and retrieved the basket and his school bag.

    “Please, allow me to help set the table,” Riddle sprang ready off of the sofa, but Albert motioned a hand to pause.

    “Actually, we’ll be having a change of scenery-if you’d accompany me to the mantle, please?”

    Riddle’s brow knitted in confusion. He shook his head to clear his doubts and accompanied Al by the fireplace. Albert placed a finger to his lips as if to ask a secret be kept, and backed into the fireplace. One moment Riddle could see his classmate’s legs and shoes, another they were gone. He let out a concerned gasp and instinctively looked up the flue; facing back was Al’s face peering back down with a satisfied grin.

    “You may have to explain the steps of this spell, Albert!” Riddle called.

    “Just hold your limbs close and let the wind catch you!” Albert shouted back. A devious grin could be seen even with the distance between them.

    There was a moment of silence after Al pulled his head back to clear the way, but the silence shattered and was replaced with an undignified holler as Riddle shot up to the roof. Albert grabbed one of his flailing hands as he came back down. The smaller classmate fumbled to regain his footing, not once letting Albert go. Riddle was yanked in close on the level platform, this being the first time the red-head fully felt the scale the seven inches in height difference between Albert and himself. He couldn’t help his cheeks from flushing in embarrassment, and quickly regained space. Albert couldn’t help but bark in laughter at the sight of his smaller peer and their attempt at patting a couple smudges of soot off themselves.

    “Ah don’t worry too much about it-it’s just good, clean soot,” He smiled, rag in hand.

    He could see it now: the view of the cemetery stretched eerily far. The headstones seemed to create a much more macabre maze, not unlike the one in his own domain. The platform leveled out part of the roof, allowing space for a table and a couple of refurbished wooden chairs. He looked back out to the rest of the view to further take it in: The spires of the school crowning out of the woods, the cobblestone main street, and other such landmarks. His gaze fell to every which way, but he was drawn back to the sound of Albert placing the basket on the table and offering a safety line. With both boys secured, they finally each took a seat. Albert began to assemble the table with cups, trays, plates, food and somehow three pots of freshly brewed tea. He noticed Riddle attempting to rationalize what he was seeing; he couldn’t help but start giggling.

    “You’ll remember my suggestion yesterday-about judging things by appearance,” He gave the basket a pat, “Wicker, carpet or otherwise.” He pointed to each pot to name the contents, but quickly pulled a small pitcher of lemonade to accompany it, “Might I suggest this for your rose syrup?”

    “Certainly-It’s quite refreshing to find someone else with a taste for tea. But first: how did you come to find this a proper spot for, well, anything? The view is rather beautiful from this vantage, I’ll admit, but the concept of Tea up on the roof? What’s next? Derbys with carousel horses?”

    “At that rate, I might as well build a proper dance studio up here-choreograph an entire routine, props and all! If you find this bizarre, a cousin of mine practically lives by ‘laughter being able to raise your spirits’. Half of the time dinner has to be hoisted up to the ceiling for him, having been laughing all day!” The fox-like smile Al wore could have been interpreted as jest or earnest. 

    “They must have been who you get your jokes from; can’t say I have quite as colorful of a family. Hazard to guess what they must be like outside of formal gatherings…”

    Albert could sense a slight shift in mood, but continued with him back and forth on various topics for quite a while. The mention of Winter Break reminded Albert of something.

    “If it isn’t too personal to ask, since we’ll all be coming home for winter break, what is your family like? I don’t wish to assume, but maybe someone has been your inspiration for your zeal for rules?”

    “Well, of course you might know of The Queendom of Roses’s most famous healers: my father and Mother. She’s well regarded in our town, and as her son I have an image to uphold.” Image to uphold. The phrase Albert would utter to himself to maintain his nerves at orientation echoed in his head as Riddle continued. “The only way she saw fit to do that was schedule everything to the second, every lesson, every calorie…”

    “Not to speak ill of your mother, but growing up must have felt...suffocating. I can’t say I’ve had the experience of a parent so…invested in their child’s life. Her adherence to rules and regulations has probably saved countless lives, but applying such a stringent adherence outside of the medical field seems a tad counterproductive. Life is a lot less...predictable. There are so many variables and not everyone adheres to the same standards, medically or otherwise.” Al seemed to acknowledge something he didn’t want to completely divulge. “To have the flexibility and willingness to cooperate, at least from what I’ve read, better shows the character of a great leader.”

    Riddle sat and pondered over the critique. On the one hand, Al did commend his mother for her enforcing of rules and her prowess as a healer. Though, it still felt like a slight attack at his mentioning of life’s unpredictability.

    “She is an amazing healer. Both she and I have found that rules and laws are what help remove as much unpredictability as possible. Those who can’t follow the rules can’t lead, and whoever is the strongest ends up being the one to come out on top and rule, so it stands to reason that they are the most correct, because whoever rules, creates the laws. It’s not that I want to be harsh, it’s just for their own good! If I offer leeway in any fashion, then they’ll assume all the rules are out. Then everything just dissolves into madness!”

    “You don’t think everyone’s a little mad, in their own ways? One man’s method and all that?”

    “Are you sure you’re not more of friends with Che’nya? That sounds exactly as roundabout and silly as something he’d say,” Riddle puffed his cheeks in frustration.

    “I’m not a psychologist, and please forgive any rudeness but, this sounds…rehersed. Do you think what you’re saying are your own words? Or is someone else saying them, through you?”

    Riddle flinched at the question. He wasn’t sure where to be more offended-the idea that his decisions aren’t his own, or that maybe, Albert might have rang more true than he’d outwardly ever admit.

    “Of course they’re my words, I’m the one saying them!” he huffed and turned back towards his tea. “I could ask you a similar question about what type of home life you come from that gives you the sense to ask such questions.”

    “You’ve divulged so much about yourself, all ready, It would only be fair I reciprocate:

“I actually have family mostly in The Shaftlands. We grew up in the City of Altus, rather normal, actually. Father traveled extensively, Mother made the home, but a few months ago that…changed” Albert stated.. His eyes trailed from his guest to his own tea before continuing.

    “I’ve been maintaining the home while Father’s been working. It sort of came to a head about halfway through last year; I actually had to take leave from school to come home. I’d stayed home for the rest of the semester until the dust settled, on top of completing schoolwork. While they still passed me with my scores, administration probably wasn’t rather impressed at my physical absence my first year at Royal Sword...I think the change of scenery to Night Raven College has helped quite a bit. I hope that answer satisfies.”

    Riddle somewhat deflated at such an answer, and with a sigh, placed his cup back down. He ran a hand through his hair, not sure of what to say. He broke the silence by scrambling up and bending at the waist in a bow.

    “I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware. I won’t ask the details, but more than anything else I’m sorry for my indignation. If my pride hadn’t got the better of me I wouldn’t have made you tell me something that sounds so personal,” Riddle peered back for a moment, the threat of tears welling in his eyes.

    “ I have to apologize, myself; I feel I’ve come off as arrogant in what I’ve probably made to feel like an interrogation. I do enjoy your company and I don’t wish to offend. As host I should have done more to be more mindful,” Albert replied, with a bow in turn. “If you’d like, We can stifle this part of the conversation. And, iff you’d prefer we finish up, I’d welcome you indulging me more about Rose Queendom’s customs while I pack.”

    Albert wouldn’t be able to hear, but Riddle sighed in slight relief at the offer. He gave a short nod and began assisting in cleanup, chatting about local food specialties and holidays. The two made short order of cleanup, and Albert finally untied the safety lines from both of them. Once free he rifled through his school bag, producing his umbrella; said instrument had been equipped with an additional accessory: a sturdy cord attaching a metal rod to the umbrella shaft.

    “Oh, if it’s going to rain, I have my own umbrella-” Riddle started. Riddle checked his watch for the time, as well, but couldn’t make out why it should have been well over an hour past what the face was showing.

    “No no no, it’s not raining, This is our way down,” Al replied. He opened the instrument, and stepped on the metal rod. “Place your foot here, hold on…” Riddle obeyed, skeptically waiting for further instruction. “You close your eyes, and jump!”

    Riddle flew along with Albert’s momentum off the side with a yelp. He didn’t let go, but his balance he found difficult to maintain. Closing his eyes wasn’t an option anymore, of course, as he was immediately fixated on the ground they wouldn’t meet. He looked back to his pilot, who was all smiles.

    “I always enjoy this-my favorite thing to show new friends! Not much different than a broom, though I’d prefer this to broom-stick saddle sores,” he laughed as the two floated back towards the main campus. Riddle checked his pocket watch once more, now even more curious as the time had not progressed since the last time it was checked.

    “I believe my watch must be dead, could you check on it? I should have asked earlier but I’m afraid I might be late back.”

    “Well, let’s see...Well, it is about 5.30PM, so I would imagine, at least by The Queen’s Rules, you are still in time for dinner,” Albert stated.

    “But, surely we’ve been having tea for quite longer than that, right?”

    “Oh certainly, it’s that I’ve afforded us an extra hour. Everyone at this school has a unique magic to either them or their families, mine happens to allow myself and up to three others that I can touch to have time frozen around them. I call it ‘Step in Time’. Once we land, the hour I’ve frozen will be done and time will resume as scheduled.”

    “That’s a rather interesting type of magic, really,” Riddle replied. “To have even an extra hour to do anything without disturbing your schedule…”

    “-Give or take five minutes. But, If I couldn’t find time to perform academically as well as better make Yuu and I’s dorm more of a home, then what kind of personal assistant could I ever hope to be, after graduation?”

    “Thank you again for answering my invitation. I can see this year starting out a bit rough, but maybe this is the start of a turn to a brighter direction?” Albert stopped at the Mirror to Heartslabyul to see Riddle off.

    “And...Thank you. For inviting me, for feeling free to speak with me, this rose syrup…” Riddle started. “And for offering some perspective. Thank you.”

    “Not a problem-I do hope I made today enjoyable. And willing, you are more than welcome to ask to join me again. Can’t say I’ve had many an opportunity to make a friend yet at Night Raven College.  If I may, though, leave you with something to think about? A riddle, in a way: We ponder why the Caged Bird sings. But What does the Caged Bird ponder, with an open door to a world it didn’t know was outside its cage? Have a good rest of the night.”

    At that Albert turned and disappeared from sight. Riddle returned home, silently pondering the ‘riddle’ assigned to him. His concentration was broken by a resident bringing in the mail. They cautiously offered a letter from administration and fled. He opened to read it, and found the contents infuriating.

    “THOSE TWO WANT TO DO WHAT??”

    Another evening splashed oranges and yellows in the sky by the time Albert had returned back to his dorm. He was immediately confronted by Ace leaning against the wall, with Deuce, Yuu and Grim behind. Ace wore a sour face before straightening out.

    “So, how was your afternoon with Riddle? I got to see you both in the Hall of Mirrors, earlier. Did he yell at’cha the whole time? Keep nitpickin’ everything? Lemme guess, you had to make nice to him all day to let us back in?” He rambled. “Not that it’s gonna matter-Deuce and I are challenging him for the title of Dorm Leader, tomorrow. When we win, We’re making him apologize to Us, and you for whatever he’s made ya do today and yesterday.”

    Albert stood quiet for a few moments. He sharply sighed, snatched his umbrella close and marched over to the redhead.

    “Now see here, Ace. Let me make one thing quite clear,” He growled, forcing Ace to the wall while wagging the umbrella between them. He stood there quiet with a now sweating freshman darting his gaze looking for an escape. Al’s tense expression flipped as quickly as before, this time to a calm grin. “I never explain anything~”

    He pulled back, giving Ace room off of the wall. He tugged at his jacket to straighten it and continued his march towards the kitchen. He whipped his phone from his pocket to show the group the email Yuu had sent.

    “Yuu’s kindly relayed what you all would like, of the recipes you’ve all found, today. I’ll call for dinner when it’s ready.” With that he retreated into the kitchen to kickstart the meal.