#and then i actually listened to the lyrics and was like WHAT!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thoughtfulfiction · 2 days ago

Text

While We’re Young

Author’s note: Anon requested, Hope you all enjoy!

“Wait,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence in the car. You twisted one of your hoodie strings around your finger, tightening your grip on it and staring at Justin as if the realization had just crashed into you. “What if they don’t like me?”

Justin glanced over, his brows furrowing before his expression softened. His hand found its place on your thigh, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern through the fabric of your leggings. You were convinced that his soothing touch could change lives. “They’re going to love you,” he said simply, as though it wasn’t even a question. “My mom’s already planning to interrogate you about your favorite foods so she can cook for you. That’s her love language.”

You wanted to believe him, but your mind was already racing. “I mean, what if they think I’m not good enough for you? Or—oh god—what if I say something stupid and embarrass myself? Bad first impressions are impossible to recover from, and if this doesn't go the way we hope…” You trailed off, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

At the next stoplight, Justin leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “First of all, you couldn’t embarrass yourself even if you tried. And second, I’ve seen you charm complete strangers. My family doesn’t stand a chance.”

Despite his confidence, your nerves didn’t fully settle. “Thanks, babe,” you murmured, managing a small smile. “But what am I supposed to do with the next thirteen hours? That’s so much time for me to go through worse case scenarios.”

“And to make me listen to your Sad Girl playlist,” Justin switched gears to remind you, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed, connecting your phone to his car’s Bluetooth, taking a break from your negative self-talk. The opening chords of your favorite melancholic ballad filled the car as you leaned back in your seat.

Justin groaned dramatically but didn’t complain. Instead, he reached over to squeeze your hand, the warmth of his skin a quiet and comforting reassurance that you’d carry with you all the way to Eugene.

The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.

Justin pulled you out of your thoughts when he asked, “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”

“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good. I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”

You opted to sit in the car and eat, giving him a long winded breakdown of what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.

“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane. And definitely take me to Nike. It honestly feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.” You note with a laugh. If Nike made suits, he'd definitely be first in line.

He gave you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning while helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”

You laughed so hard you nearly choked on your fries, swapping spots with him after lunch so he could take a break from driving. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and they smell like you. Anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”

“Nice save…Catwoman.”

You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood, actually. Take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich, so I take from you and...give to me. The poor.”

“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free, but that is a pretty solid comparison.”

After about 8 hours of you being on aux, you decided to cut him so slack and let him take over on music as you continued to drive, mouthing the lyrics of the latest song that was playing from his phone, quickly getting lost in the rhythm.

He glanced over at you, chuckling softly, nodding his head along to the beat. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”

“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. Hate to admit it but this is kind of a banger." You smirked, tilting your head toward him. "You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”

Justin immediately starts shaking his head. “No shot. You’re not doing this to me.”

You turned up the music, singing loudly and deliberately off-key as he sighed deeply, his head dropping back against the headrest. But to your surprise, he joined in during the chorus. Both of you were screaming the lyrics to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard, the car practically vibrating with your energy.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he said, holding out his pinky.

“Deal,” you laughed, locking your pinky with his before refocusing on the road.

A few hours later, Justin motioned for you to take the next exit. “Let’s hop out right here. I want to show you something,” he said cryptically.

The stop turned out to be a scenic lookout, the perfect place to watch the sunset with Mt. Shasta looming majestically in the distance. Justin laced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked toward the edge, stretching your legs after hours in the car.

“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, mesmerized by the golden and pink hues painting the sky.

Justin turned to you with a warm smile, his eyes full of something that made your stomach flutter. “Yeah… me too.”

You smacked his arm, keeping your gaze on the horizon. “Justin, focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”

“Sorry, I just got really distracted by the view in front of me. It’s kind of become my favorite.” He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. His beard—something that came and went whenever he felt like it—tickled your temple, making you smile.

Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still stealing your breath even after all this time. His green eyes were softer in the glow of the setting sun, flickering between your eyes and lips as if he couldn’t decide where to focus.

“You’re my favorite view too,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while...the rest of my life even.”

The words hung in the air, fragile yet heavy with meaning. His brows lifted slightly, and for a moment, you worried you’d said too much. You hadn't even meant to say that last part out loud and you almost backtracked. But then, his lips curled into a small, hesitant smile, like he was processing the weight of your words.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and steady. His hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “You—you see us doing this? Getting married, spending our lives together?”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart ache in the best way. “Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”

Justin didn’t respond immediately, but his actions spoke louder than any words ever could. His hands slid to frame your face fully, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as if memorizing every detail. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and deliberate, like he was pouring everything he felt but couldn’t say into that one kiss. It wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was the kind of kiss that made the world fade away until it was just the two of you.

His hand gently cradled your head, holding you in place as if he was afraid you might slip away. You gripped the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, your heart racing as the kiss deepened. There was something so raw, so unspoken in the way his lips moved against yours—it wasn’t just passion; it was promise. Everything you saw, this bright beautiful future together? He saw it too.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting together. He let out a shaky laugh, his hands still cradling your face. “I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with either,” he admitted, his voice hoarse but filled with a quiet certainty. “Until now.”

The kiss lingered for just a moment longer, both of you savoring the connection, the sound of your heartbeat matching the rhythm of your breath. When Justin finally pulled back, there was a brief moment of silence, a quiet understanding between you. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, giving you a small smile before pulling away completely to open the door of the car.

“I think we’ve stalled long enough,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual but still carrying that calm confidence you admired. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both shared a laugh, though it felt a bit nervous on your part as the reality of the day hit. You had no idea what to expect, but you knew this was a big moment for Justin—and for you.

Justin took the keys from your hand, giving you one last reassuring squeeze before getting in the driver's seat. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the jittery nerves you hadn’t even realized you were holding onto.

The final leg of the drive felt like it stretched on forever, even though only a few hours had passed since you were on the mountain. There was something different in the air now. The soft, quiet hum of the road felt more like a countdown to something important.

Every few minutes, Justin would glance over at you, a soft smile curling at his lips as if trying to reassure himself just as much as you. His hand eventually found itself encasing yours, his thumb making lazy circles over your skin. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence, calm and unwavering, was more than enough.

When the exit for Eugene finally appeared, you felt your pulse quicken. This was it. This was the moment.

“Here we go,” Justin murmured, his voice somehow more steady than his movements, as he guided the car off the highway and toward the familiar road leading to his childhood home.

The transition felt sudden, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet moment of realization that everything you’d shared so far had been leading to this point. He was letting you in. You were meeting the people who mattered most to him, the ones who had shaped him into the man he was today.

As you approached the house, you could see the familiar outline of the porch, a few trees swaying in the breeze, and a small garage you guessed held memories of Justin’s childhood. The house was modest, but there was a sense of warmth and familiarity that seemed to radiate from the front door, even from the car.

Justin slowed as he approached, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours one last time before he parked the car. He looked over at you, eyes soft but serious, like he was searching for your reassurance.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with both excitement and nerves.

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah. Ready.”

And with that, the two of you got out of the car and walked toward the front door of his family’s home, the journey that had brought you here feeling like both an ending and a beginning.

The door swung open before you even knocked, and there stood his mom, her arms outstretched.

She was gorgeous, her dark hair a stark contrast to Justin's much lighter features. But she wasn't interested in him at all, making a beeline for you straight away. “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than he said! I’m Holly—come in, come in!"

You barely had time to process her words before you were enveloped in a warm hug, her energy immediately putting you at ease. Over her shoulder, you spot Justin’s dad, Mark, standing on the porch with a reserved smile, and Justin’s brothers are leaning against the doorway, smirking. Justin laughed softly behind you, side stepping you and his mom. "Alright, let her breathe please? It'd be helpful if she made it through this entire night without suffocating," he jokes as his mom pulls away, rolling her eyes as she gives him a hug.

A younger guy who looks almost exactly like a mustached version of your boyfriend greets you next. "Hi, I'm Patrick. Glad Mitch wasn't lying and you are a real person, but pro tip? You're way out of this dork's league," he says with a serious face, nodding his head towards his older brother.

Justin glares at him and doesn't respond, muttering something under his breath that only Patrick catches as he bursts into a fit of laughter. You give Mitch a hug—the familiar face of Justin's older brother a welcome sight. He was a first-year orthopedic surgery resident at UCLA, the perfect situation for him and Justin to live together again. You'd been able to meet him on several occasions which proved useful in easing your nerves about meeting everyone else. “How was the drive? Are you guys staying at the ranch tonight?”

“We are,” you replied with a smile. “I’m really excited to finally see this infamous place.”

Justin’s dad steps forward, his handshake firm but warm, his eyes studying you with quiet curiosity before his face softens into a welcoming smile. “Don’t let these two scare you off. We’re happy to finally meet you. Let's head inside, I think Holly already has the baby pictures set out and ready for you to go through," he smiles, patting Justin on the back as his son shakes his head.

"You're lucky your dad talked me out of making a PowerPoint Presentation because we were seconds away from watching a pre dinner slideshow." Holly says to him with a small smile as everyone steps inside.

Patrick's voice cuts through everyone's laughter, "she's not even kidding, it was about to have music included and everything but dad saved you. I was about to give her some of the best material." He looks over at you, overenunciating for emphasis. "Two words: bowl. Cut."

"See what I have to deal with?" Justin whispers, gently pulling you into his side. Mark and Holly exchange knowing looks but don't say anything.

The house smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread, like warmth itself had settled into the walls. Framed pictures lined the hallways—some faded with time, others vibrant and new—each capturing a story of childhood adventures and hard-won victories. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the cozy living room. This wasn’t just a house; it was a sanctuary, a place where love was stitched into the very fabric of its foundation.

On the table in the living room is a stack of photo albums from when Justin was a newborn all the way up until his senior year of college. Countless memories were shared in these frames, a clearly busy but joyful childhood filled with love, laughter and lots of sporting events of all kinds. You could see that this family valued quality time with each other and the home you were in radiated warmth and love.

You ran your fingers lightly over the plastic covering of one album, tracing the faded marker label: Justin – Year 3. Inside, a chubby-cheeked toddler grinned back at you, his tiny facial features stretched in a mischievous but slightly forced smile.

“He never changed,” Patrick teased. “Still hates cameras.”

His words made you laugh a little because it was true, but you also saw something deeper. A boy who had grown up in a home where love wasn’t measured in trophies or contracts but in moments. The same boy who had fought to protect his private life in the face of stadium lights and national attention. You understood now—it wasn’t about secrecy. It was about keeping his people, the most important part of him, safe.

Your gaze flickered to Justin, his fingers tapping against his thigh—a telltale sign of deep thought. He wasn’t just reminiscing. He was remembering what it felt like to carry all of this, to be seen as something larger than life before he even had a chance to grow into it. And yet, here, he wasn’t the NFL quarterback. He was just...Justin.

"He was the starter by the end of that season, kind of became the hometown hero from then," Mitch sighs, sifting through some of the photos. "Things kind of got chaotic after that, with comparisons and people talking on social media."

"It was annoying," Justin cuts in, "deleted my Instagram after that. Only got it back around the draft for endorsement purposes." His words are dry, like it was painful or embarrassing thinking back to that time.

You had always respected, even admired, Justin’s need for privacy. But sitting here, surrounded by the people who had shaped him, you understood where it all came from: it wasn’t just about keeping the world out—it was about keeping his world safe. The weight of expectations, the relentless scrutiny, the unspoken pressure to be perfect—it had started young. He hadn’t chosen to be private. He had been forced to learn how to protect the things that mattered most.

And that’s what this house and his family was.

His one refuge from a world that always wanted more.

"Alright," Holly says, breaking you out of your epiphany, "who's ready to eat?"

This was a family you could definitely see yourself being a part of. Justin seemed so much more relaxed and at ease here which was a stark contrast to what you'd seen from him recently. His job was unforgiving, unrelenting. And the fans? You thanked your lucky stars daily for the fact that Justin wasn't on Twitter, especially after the Houston loss. This is where he belonged, these were his people. They didn't care about the stats or the money or everything that came with it and that's exactly how he wanted to be treated. He had a home in these people. He'd only found that comfort and peace one other time since he left Eugene.

And that was when he met you.

Dinner went on seamlessly, Mark joking asked if you two had a wedding date set after watching his son not-so-subtly check in on you throughout your stay. There were inside jokes, little moments of laughter from your relationship with Justin like how you had to adjust to his crazy hours in the facility from Monday-Wednesday but Thursdays were the days that really mattered, it was just the two of you. And sometimes Mitch and Isabella. But those were the days that brought you even closer, those little moments, just like this one that brought you so much joy it felt like you'd explode. There was easy laughter, Patrick telling some story about Justin being so private and how much he likes to keep to himself that he never thought he'd see this day. You spoke up and reassured him that you think you've successfully peeled back some layers and found your best friend in the process. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Mitch giving Patrick a nudge. Even Mark cracked a little smile, but all you could focus on was Justin's subtle smile that spoke volumes, in his own unique way. After everyone was finished with their meal, you found yourself in the kitchen with Holly, helping her plate dessert while the guys debated football in the other room.

“He’s different with you, you know.” She nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel before leaning against the counter.

Your hands froze mid-reach. A small knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. “Different good or…?”

She smiled, her eyes soft with something unreadable. “Good. Really good.” There was a wistfulness in her expression, something unspoken lingering in the air. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking. “Oh?”

“His grandma. My mom,” she said, voice quieter now, like the weight of memory had settled over her. “She was the only one who could ever get my dad to slow down. He was always moving—always thinking about the next challenge, the next goal. But with her, it was…different. She had this way of pulling him back to the present, reminding him that love isn’t measured in achievements. That life isn’t just about what you do—it’s about who you share it with.”

Her eyes met yours then, her meaning unmistakable. “Seeing you and Justin felt very similar to seeing them together again. It’s really nice to see him be with someone who helps him to reel it in a little.”

Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest. You swallowed past the lump in your throat, forcing out a small laugh. “Well, he’s still a workaholic, so I might not be that good at it.”

Holly chuckled. “That’s just who he is. But I see the way he looks at you. The way he’s always checking in. You’re his home. His safe space.” She paused, and added softly, “And that’s all a mother could ever want for her son.”

You blinked back the unexpected sting of tears and watched as Holly swiped at her eyes. Before you could really process what you were doing, you were hugging her again. All the nerves and tension from earlier have completely vanished. Justin might not say much, but his actions had always spoken volumes. And now, hearing it from his mom—knowing that she saw it too—meant more than you could put into words.

The two of you walked back in with trays holding little bowls filled with apple crisp and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top with caramel drizzle.

As Justin watched you, something settled in his chest—a feeling he hadn’t even known he was searching for. His mom was smiling at you in that way she only did when she had already decided someone was family. His dad—usually quiet, reserved—nodded along to your words like he genuinely enjoyed the conversation. His brothers, relentless as ever, had already started pulling you into their teasing.

And there you were. Sitting beside him, laughing like you belonged here. Because you did.

An hour later, after lingering goodbyes and a few last jokes, you walked side by side to his car. As Justin slid into the driver’s seat, he exhaled slow and deep. A weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying finally lifted. Maybe it was the fear of his two worlds colliding. Maybe it was the quiet, unspoken worry that you wouldn’t fit into this part of his life.

But you did. Seamlessly. Effortlessly. Like you were always meant to.

“Well,” you said, patting his thigh with a teasing grin, “that went great. Can’t believe you were so freaked out.”

He turned to you, feigning offense before shaking his head with a laugh. The sound of it filled the car, warm and easy. You joined in, your laughter melting into his as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

This. This is what home should feel like.

Justin leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Told you they’d love you,” he murmured.

But as he pulled back, hand still wrapped around yours, the thought hit him like a slow-burning realization.

I think I might love you too.

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fic

152 notes · View notes

communist-hatsunemiku · 2 days ago

Note

this might be a strange take but as someone who was groomed and who had what i would call an "elitist" mindset towards it, zako really seemed like it was about that mentality. of knowing you were playing with fire but feeling like you were above it. and for that i was really attached to it for the 2 hours it was out. the more logical side of me KNOWS its more likely a play off mimukawa nice try but i would love to believe it was meant to cater to a different audience than loli-cons. what's your take on the fiction vs reality of it? do you think westerners are just overreacting

I think you're interpretation of the song is valid, and pretty interesting tbh! I had not thought about that at all, and it's a case for letting people interpret the song in their own way. Instead of kowtowing to the loudest, most offended people. I also think the fact the creators literally took down the song amid backlash is pretty strong evidence they didn't make a song "for lolicons". They obviously did not anticipate this reaction, Channel admitted to having reservations, and tried to make Yuuki somewhat older-looking in the video. Whether you think she does or not, is up for (good faith!) debate. I do think she does not look like the literal box art version of the character, but that's kind of beside the point.

there is no fiction vs. reality debate because there are no real human beings harmed in the making of this song. Like, full stop. The "well kaai yuuki has a child VA" shit doesnt hold water cuz that person is an adult now anyway, and there are plenty of other songs featuring her that go wayyyy beyond this one. Like it's just something people reached for out of convienence. Same for "it violates her TOS!" like no one gave a fuck about Kaai Yuuki's TOS before it became a convenient cudgel in this particular situation.

The thing is, no one can have conversations about stuff like this in good faith because you are immediately labeled some kind of monster for trying to have any kind of nuanced opinion. Any dissent from "this song/movie/book is irredeemably evil and your sick for defending it" is taken as proof that you are a pervert monster. It's such a clear example of people, willfully and gleefully, diving into reactionary thinking without a shred of thought.

When really, I do think having an actual conversation about lolicon causing you discomfort is totally normal, and it's a pretty reasonable response to this stuff! But people can't just say that, they have to burn the whole thing to the ground, in the name of "protecting kids" or whatever bullshit they come up with. I don't actually like a good portion of Miku art for the same reasons people didn't like Zako! There was art going around on twitter of Miku with a literal binkie in Her mouth like a baby, and that shit was kind of weird! But I just didn't engage with it, that's it. People whipped each other up about the "harms" of this song, when simply not liking or engaging with it at all would have been the normal thing to do.

Freak outs like this do not protect anybody from anything. My big hot take is that having a moral panic about literally anything has more potential for actual harm than whatever it is people are panicking over. You simply cannot make rational, thoughtful decisions that prioritize protecting people from abuse when you are in a panic, or listening to people who are in a panic. You just can't!! It's not how shit works!

I know I have other asks about this, but I'm kind of trying to answer here, definitively, and let the topic dissipate. I'm glad I got the video downloaded, and we'll see what they release to appease all the weirdos who freaked out about the song. People objected to both the video and the lyrics themselves, so I don't know how they're going to come out with a new version that isn't radically different than the original. We'll see.

#vocaloid #zako #hiiragi magnetite #I myself am getting annoyed at constantly litigating this song but i liked this ask and appreciated it

88 notes · View notes

finelinevogue · 2 days ago

Text

talk to me

summary - aaron is vulnerable after his family is taken from him, only you are brave enough to confront him

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau-gf!reader

word count - ~1k [very angsty…not my usual happy writing]

“Why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

The same question ran through your head over and over again, like it was some godforsaken lyric you couldn’t stop repeating.

Only it wasn’t a lyric.

It was something Hotch had said on a case today.

Granted it was about the unsub you were catching, but you couldn’t stop going over and over the double meaning to his words. You couldn’t stop wondering if that was Hotch’s cry for help.

You were currently driving to his apartment.

It was rough for you and Aaron right now.

Aaron getting stabbed was traumatic enough for you, but for Aaron to go through that as well as losing his family and all control? It was devastating.

You and Aaron had been together for over a year, making it work with being in a relationship whilst balancing his role as a dad. Aaron was doing the extreme best he could and you were so proud of him.

But you could see the emotional toll it had taken on him these last few weeks since the incident.

It was so clear that Aaron believed he was a terrible father and he was punishing himself for it.

You were really worried about him. You cared for Aaron a lot and it was heartbreaking to think that he was keeping such self deprecating thoughts to himself. He should know better.

You pulled up outside his apartment and quickly went into his apartment.

It didn’t take long to climb the stairs and reach his door.

You hesitated.

What if you were overthinking? What if he was actually alright and by you confronting him would just plant doubting seeds?

Swearing to yourself, you knocked.

A minute later and Aaron undid the latch and opened up.

“Hey?” He clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hey.”

“You coming in?” He opened the door wider.

“You’re not going to ask me why I’m here?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest accusatorially.

“Do I need to question why my girlfriend is visiting?” He furrowed his brows.

“You normally would,” You answered, “But you already know why I’m here.”

You pushed past him and walked into his apartment. This conversation was not meant for the listening ears of everyone on Aaron’s apartment floor.

He closed the door with a sigh and clicked the latch again.

Aaron came and stood near you, hands on his hips as he awaited your next move. You could tell by his body language that the direction this conversation was moving in was making him really uncomfortable.

Well that was fine with you.

“So…”

“So what?” Aaron looked down at his shoes before looking back at you.

“We promised never to profile each other.” You said.

“And yet here you are.” He challenged you.

Aaron was getting defensive and you hadn’t even started the conversation yet.

You knew that getting through to him would be hard but you sometimes forget how many solid walls and foundations this man has built around himself. One chisel at a time might not be enough.

“Don’t do this, Aaron.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Push me away!” You shouted, flailing your arms up.

“I’m not…” Aaron looked off to the side.

“Aaron. I know you better than you think I do. Don’t push me away when I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.” Aaron said bitterly, still not raising his voice. Sometimes his cold shoulder was worse than his angry tone. You’d seen strong-willed men crumble at their knees under Aaron’s glare.

“Stop being so stubborn.” You groaned.

“Well stop profiling me.” Aaron bit back.

“I’m not profiling you, Aaron. I’m simply being a good friend. I’ve noticed that my boyfriend is constantly sad and says things that make me… nervous - that’s not profiling.”

“Stay out of my head.” Aaron warned.

There was no going back from this.

If he broke up with you then so be it, but you weren’t taking any chances. Not when Aaron’s mental or emotional stability was on the line.

“What did you mean today when you said, ‘Why hasn’t he killed himself yet?’ Hmm?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Aaron shook his head, “I said stay out of my head.”

“Were you asking it about the unsub…”

“Don’t.” Aaron shook his head.

“Or were you asking about yourself?” You questioned the one thing that had been constantly on your mind ever since he’d said it.

“No.” Aaron shook his head, eyes tearing up slightly.

“Aaron, honey, it’s okay to be sad –.”

“I’m not sad, I’m devastated!” He shouted. It took every fibre of it being not to flinch and send the wrong message.

“Honey…”

“No. You want to truth? I’ve questioned what the point is anymore, of course I have. My son has been taken from me in the most cruel way possible and I can’t do a goddamn thing, so I’m sorry if I seem a little more sad than usual.” His words dripped with venom.

His breath was uneven and heavy after he’d finished, almost like he was holding himself back from letting out more.

“Is that it?” You said bravely.

Aaron’s gaze pierced yours. His honey eyes so focused that they had lost their spark.

“What?”

“You want to shout at someone? Then shout at me. You want to make someone cry? Then make it me. You want to punch a wall? I’ll stitch your hand up after. You want to cry? I’ll be here with the tissues.”

Aaron’s body physically deflated as you spoke.

You weren’t done yet though.

“You think that this is a burden you carry alone, Aaron. Well it’s not. Yes it’s your family that Foyet is targeting but you are not the reason that Foyet turned out to be the way he is. You are not solely responsible for his escape or any of his devious plans. So if you want to be devastated, then fine. In fact, I’d welcome you to show your heart on your sleeve for once. But don’t for one second think of doing something stupid. Not when I’m right here.”

Aaron dropped to his knees then head hanging low as his body shook from his tears.

You had hoped it would come to this. Not that you enjoyed seeing Aaron upset, but you appreciated seeing him be vulnerable with you.

It meant that he still felt safe with you.

“I’m sorry.” He kept repeating through his sobs.

You moved quickly to kneel on the ground in front of him, pulling his body into yours so you could hold him tight.

Aaron’s love language was physical touch, so physical touch you would give him. If he thought he was anything less than loved by you then you had failed as a partner.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

You kept reassuring him, keeping your hold tight on him whilst rubbing his back comfortingly.

<.><.>

[bonus]

You stayed on the floor with Aaron for over an hour.

He needed the time to cry and let everything out, whilst knowing he had someone next to him to keep him safe.

You had eventually both made it to bed.

Even though you didn’t have any of your work clothes here and your car was definitely violating parking rights outside, you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave Aaron. You didn’t want to leave him.

He was currently resting his head on your chest as he slept, his body breathing on heavily. You were sat up in his bed, stroking a comforting hand through his hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around you so you couldn’t be taken from him.

It had been a tough day, but you had reminded Aaron that there’s always a reason to keep going at the end of it.

#aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch angst

99 notes · View notes

colossrat · 8 hours ago

Text

Is the captain insane or just brain rot?

Batman has several children, and even so it is very difficult for him to keep up with the new slang or memes of the generation. So the fact that Captain Marvel, a guy who appears to be between 25-30 years old (but theoretically has bazillions) stupidly knows a lot of these jokes, doesn't enter his mind and he finds himself constantly just questioning the sanity of his co-worker.

Because it's all so absurd, he can't tell anymore when the captain is just being himself and dropping the most meaningless piece of lore in the world, or if he's reciting a tiktok meme

several league members don't really know, at least not the older ones

After a mission, Marvel is talking to cyborg. Is the topic about dating? teachers? Superman is listening in the background while he has his own conversation with Batman a little away, so he's not really listening.

But something catches his attention, and it's the captain's choked tone of voice, almost as if he were crying

Marvel: oh my god, oh my shayla, no... ;(

Supes go pale and tune off from the conversation that he is not part of, feeling that he has just invaded the privacy of his colleagues

Batman: superman? whats wrong?

Superman: I-- I think I just overheard the captain lamenting about an date he had with a teacher called Shayla… he was crying, i think… I feel horrible, I didn't listen on purpose---

Batman:

Batman: who that fuck is shayla?

billy was just joking, because actually his teacher made him change seats in the class so he wouldn't be sitting next to freddy anymore, since they talk like hell, and he was demonstrating to cyborg how shaken he was by reciting "oh my shayla"

Then there's that time where Voltage (Freddy or Lieutenant Junior) is with them during a magical mission, and out of nowhere the two start communicating using "u i a", in rhythms that resemble morse or binary code…

Marvel: u i a i u i-i a-i?

Voltage: u i a i u-u i i a-i.

and they both start laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world

Zatana: Is this an extinct language or something?

Dr. Fate: I would also like to know… I think I'll have to do some research, but maybe it's an ancient, witchy language. I didn't know that the captain was teaching witchcraft to his apprentice.

And then there's Batman discreetly writing down all the lyrics they say. he will question constantine or jason blood later to see if it mean something to them

everything gets more confusing when these codes start to have pop music melodies, not that they recognize these songs at first

And a time when John Constantine is explaining something at a meeting for the league, something about fusing magical objects that were stolen. and the captain is almost combusting to keep from laughing.

Constantine: So in theory, the thieves took the hyperball staff and put it together with the cursed sapphire stones, and put that together with what they gathered from the cord wand and sickle feathers--

Marvel: and then they became hyperphires-corckle? like, HPCK?

Constantine: what in the bloody hell is this?

Marvel: -- nothing… no, no, I confused the objects-- it's nothing. it was from-- another category of magical objects, there is no correlation, you can continue.

He simply couldn't get the PPAP thing out of his head, and the gestures that John made to symbolize the objects coming together reminded him of that iconic clip (pen pineapple apple pen)

the magicians' heads are racing to understand what a hyperphires-corckle is, and so is the heads of everyone in that room. except for Barry who is shaking to keep from laughing since he understands where the captain really came from with that.

Hal is looking at him confused. He was off Earth for so long that they created a whole system of new magical objects? Not that he was already aware of the old ones. fucking magic.

and sometimes there is no context at all, marvel will simply drop one:

Marvel: gegagedigedagedago...

Wonder woman: What did you say, brother??

Marvel, completely seriously: Abin mery alongtameago...

Hal: Is he insulting us...? wait marry? married?!?

Marvel: wede wude--

Flash: I think he's possessed, I'm going to call John and Batman!!

One day, there is an alien invasion. they are green, thin and bald. Billy can't help but say:

Marvel: Oh my Olympian gods, they are of the "dame tu cosita" kinda alien no way!!

Hal: Now you HAVE to be kidding me. Ring, what the fuck is he talking about?

and the ring responds by saying that they are aliens X from planet Y with characteristics of being tall, thin, green and friendly

Flash: friendly? they are invading the earth!

Marvel, joking: maybe they just want to dance and have "nossas cositas"? lol, you know their stuff

Green Lantern's ring glows and says "this species is known to visit other planets in search of dance partners for entertainment"

Marvel: oh.

And then Marvel is pushed to dance with them next to Green Lantern since apparently they both have knowledge about the race and how to entertain them?

Marvel is a horrible dancer, the movements he makes are humiliating (yes, the moves in the meme), but it doesn't take long for the aliens to ignore the green lantern and imitate the captain, completely amazed by his dance. forgetting the invasion and forming a dance circle around him

Batman: I think I'm having a stroke.

Flash: I don't know how I'm going to look at his face after this…

Hal: I can't believe they didn't even care about my dancing…

Wonder woman: I thought your dance moves were very good, green warrior.

Hal: thanks Di...

Voltage, who for some reason is there, recording: this is going to be a hit on my tiktok.

Shayera: this is too humiliating to see, I'm going back to the watchtower.

Martian Manhunter at some point joined the dance circle. he is not part of that race, despite strangely having certain physical similarities. he just found it very entertaining

Marvel was very happy to have him there, he doesn't like to be embarrassed alone. The gods in his mind are giving him migraines cause they're laughing so hard

And also, the Martian is someone who can understand the captain's jokes, since he has a lot of access to watchtower technology and he doesn't do much when he's not in action, so he ended up becoming an iPad kid

but he avoids showing that he understands because despite recognizing it, he is very very shy

Cyborg also understands since he is literally connected to the internet 24/7, but he plays dumb because he doesn't want to look unprofessional and childish, not in front of his bosses at least

There was a time when Marvel came out talking about a toilet monster eating people in Chicago. flash thought he was talking about that skibidi toilet meme or something and commented about it with the league. It took a good few minutes for Marvel to convince them that it was true and that he needed help.

In the end it really was a giant toilet monster that was eating people and teleporting them to random sewers around the world.

One day, Marvel spends hours talking about a magical bipedal tiger that drinks tea. he actually spent HOURS talking about interesting facts about this tiger. No one was paying much attention, thinking it was some meme or joke that they weren't aware of.

He said that the tiger was a stuffed animal, an attraction at the zoo, a zoo employee, a super old cartoon icon, an explorer from another dimension and a lot of other things at the same time. Obviously they thought it was a lie?? or just not real

Several times at other times, days or weeks, Marvel commented on this tiger. Did they start to think it was some kind of series? maybe

until a moment came when the fucking tiger appeared at the watchtower, having tea with the captain. He had a green plaid suit and a posture fit for royalty. He greeted all the heroes who passed by with great respect and grace. They no longer know what to believe coming from the captain

But how the fuck were they supposed to know that a tiger named Mister Tawky Tawny was real and was the captain's best bestie friend forever ever?

75 notes · View notes

tinfoil-jones · 7 hours ago

Text

Jerk Ford AU: Eloquent as F***

At the end of the day Jerk Ford is still a Stanford Pines, and while he isn’t a theatre kid like his twin brother, he still has a flair for the dramatics just like his canon self.

A little known fact (little known until it’s too late), Jerk Ford is really good with words and wordplay! It's something a lot of his variants don’t usually pick up at first because he speaks to people with casual, common, and crude language.

Here’s an example of how he normally talks to other Fords (and most people):

Another AU Ford: You’re a blight upon the name 'Dr. Stanford Pines'. Jerk Ford: And you’re a bitch whore, anything else obvious you want to say? Big ego having ass.

It takes a lot to get a rise out of Jerk Ford, because as previously stated you can’t be mean to Jerk Ford, he sees it as a contest of who can be a bigger jerk and he’s always the biggest jerk. In an unforgiving multiverse full of monsters, demons, and aliens, where he’s pretty low in terms of physical abilities just compared to other versions of himself, his wit and biting words were his only real offense and defense. So if really wanted to verbally tear somebody apart, he could.

Here’s an example of a situation where Jerk Ford would flex his real, actual oratory skills:

Not a lot of Fords have asked Jerk Ford about his brother, but a fair portion of the one who actually did questioned why he was so lenient towards his twin brother who ruined his life twice (the college rejection, the portal incident). And usually Jerk Ford would just roll his eyes and say something along the lines of "Why are you worrying about someone else's brother?" Because he knows his alternates don't actually want to see his point of view, they just want to argue against it, because it goes against their own idea about their relationship (or lack thereof) with their Stan.

But, let's say there's a Ford out there who either manages to get a rise out of Jerk Ford, or who is willing to seriously consider an alternate viewpoint (both unlikely).

(The following is specifically if the motion machine is used as an argument)

"I was mad. Of course I was mad! From my perspective, the person I trusted most in the whole world had sabotaged and betrayed me! And I had to take his word for it that it was an accident and not on purpose! We are the same person, of course I know how you felt because I felt the same. Where we differed is that I asked myself a question; do I want to be angry and have my brother, or do I want to be angry and be alone? I chose my brother, and I was angry for a while, and believe me I gave him s**t about it for years, but I got over it. If you asked yourself the same question... you made the wrong f***ing choice, because you chose being right over being happy. That's why you're a genius, with near limitless potential, yet you're still a miserable fool who never got over it. No wonder you don't care about going home. There's only one person who would still be waiting for you all of this time later, and you're still putting your pride first."

---

Reminder that The Artist has a playlist for Jerk Ford. Although this is a playlist about him and not necessarily what he would listen to.

While he likes Kendrick Lamar's music, it's not genre that catches his fancy; he likes artists who are good at wordplay and use inventive lyrics, just happens to fall under rap and hip hop because wordplay is a big part of rap.

#Jerk Ford #Jerk Ford AU #He hides his wit behind what is considered a juvenile manner of speaking #But he was the debate team champion for all four years he was in high school so of course he has a way with words #Also it's how he roasts people #All of this wit and charisma and he chooses to use it to be a d*ck #You don't even want to know what he does when the Fordverse uses Jerk Ford's negative traits as an argument that he is 'secretly a Stanley'#You want to see Jerk Ford actually start swinging?#That's how #stanford pines #ford pines #grunkle ford #stan pines #stanley pines #grunkle stan #gravity falls #gravity falls au

44 notes · View notes

haytan · 3 days ago

Text

WILDFLOWER | G.A

inspired by billie eilish's wildflower. I think you can already predict that it's very angst. I cried writing this and I love it even more because of it.

𓍼 WORD COUNT: 3390

𓍼 SUMMARY: after listening to Two People on Good Riddance tour something invades you, like a fever.

𓍼 WARNINGS: angst, good ending...

good riddance had been out for a few months now, yet you still remembered the nights when gracie came home late from the studio. it might have seemed like a bad thing, but she always found a way to make it up to you—small surprises, late-night apologies that always ended with her between your legs—so, in the end, it was never really that bad.

one of the things you admired most about her was her honesty, especially when it came to her feelings. while working on the album, she never let you forget how much she loved you, how important your relationship was, and how those lyrics were nothing more than echoes of old wounds.

more than anyone, you understood what this album meant to her. it wasn’t just a way to express everything she had been through, but the first project that was truly hers, a piece of her heart laid bare. and you had been there for every part of it.

before love ever crossed your mind, you and gracie were just friends. and you had the luck—or maybe the curse—of knowing her ex-boyfriend, of watching them grow together and, eventually, fall apart.

it should have been easy to let time wash it all away, to accept that the past was nothing more than that. you had promised yourself it wouldn’t matter anymore. you had promised gracie, too.

but then two people started playing.

and when gracie sang that one specific line—

"and you know, you know every inch of my body"

that was when the tears started falling, before you could even think about stopping them. that was the night you started seeing him in the back of your mind again when you started feeling like you were burning alive.

but you knew she didn't mean to hurt you.

so you kept it to yourself.

…

the next morning, usually filled with kisses and silly conversations, is ruined by a tension that settles between you like something unspoken—thick and heavy. the air inside the apartment feels too still, as if it’s holding its breath, waiting for one of you to break the silence.

gracie leans against the sink, absentmindedly stirring her tea, though you’re not even sure if she actually intends to drink it. her fingers tap a slow rhythm against the ceramic mug, eyes fixed on some distant point.

you sit on a stool by the counter, arms crossed, so close yet so far away. the hum of the fridge, the faint ticking of the clock on the wall—everything sounds too loud in the midst of the silence between you.

"are you really not going to talk to me?" gracie finally says, her voice quieter than usual but heavy with frustration.

you exhale through your nose, hearing your own heartbeat echo inside your head. "i don’t know what you want me to say."

"i want you to say whatever it is that’s bothering you."

you shake your head, staring at a spot on the floor. "it’s nothing, gracie."

she laughs, but there’s no humor in it. "liar. you shut down the moment we got home. you barely looked at me all night. just tell me what’s going on!"

"i already told you—i’m fine."

"no, you’re not." she leans forward slightly, exasperated. "and i’m tired of pretending i don’t notice when you’re upset just because you refuse to talk to me."

your chest tightens. part of you knows she’s right. but another part—the one that’s been burning since last night, since that damn song and the way it made something ugly take root inside you—wants to resist.

you run your hands through your hair, a habit stolen from her. "maybe i just don’t want to talk about it, okay?"

gracie shakes her head. "god, why do you always do this? why do you always push me away when something’s wrong?"

"because i don’t want to fight with you!" you snap, your voice rising as your patience wears thin. "i don’t want to ruin the morning or… or make things weird before your show!"

gracie exhales sharply, setting her mug down on the counter harder than she intended. "and you think not talking makes everything better? because right now, it just feels like you’re shutting me out."

you press your fingers against your forehead, breathing heavily. "i just need time, okay?"

"time for what?" her voice wavers now, a trace of hurt seeping in. "for me to stop asking? for me to just sit here and pretend i don’t see that you’re upset?"

"for me to figure out how to talk without sounding like an idiot!"

that makes her pause. the tension between you crackles in the air, the silence stretching too long.

gracie swallows, the sound making you shiver.

"you know what? forget it," she says, turning back to the sink and picking up her tea.

you close your eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. "gracie—"

"no, i get it." she cuts you off, taking a long sip. "you don’t want to talk. fine."

gracie turns back to you, searching your face for some sign of regret, but she finds nothing but confusion.

"in the end, i’m always the only one trying to fix things," she says before walking away, the sound of her heavy footsteps echoing as she climbs the stairs.

you stay there, sitting on the stool, staring at the empty space where gracie stood just seconds ago.

your fingers grip the edge of the counter, and you let out a shaky breath, frustration still pulsing beneath your skin. this wasn’t how you wanted the morning to go. this wasn’t how you wanted things to be before her show.

but now it’s done.

you rub your face, trying to clear your thoughts. but everything feels blurred, tangled—a mess of emotions you don’t know how to unravel.

the apartment suddenly feels too small. the air inside it, too heavy.

you need to get out.

standing up quickly, you grab a sweatshirt draped over a chair and shove your keys into your pocket. the soft click of the door unlocking echoes through the apartment, but there’s no sound from upstairs. no attempt to stop you from leaving.

a part of you wishes there was.

you walk down the stairs slowly, hands buried in your pockets, with no real destination in mind. you just keep moving.

the cold morning air hits you the moment you step outside, and an immediate urge to cry swells inside you. your nose starts to sting, your eyes well up, and before you know it, those words are replaying in your head again.

"and you know, you know every inch of my body."

you know she loves you. you should let this go, shouldn’t you? but he lingers, always there, in the back of your mind.

last night, when gracie wrapped her arms around you, kissed the nape of your neck, and told you she loved you, you wanted to turn around, hold her tighter, tell her you loved her more, and start a silly argument over it.

but every time she touched you, all you could think about was how he felt.

had gracie ever looked at you and seen him? in the dark of the bedroom, between kisses and whispered promises, had a part of him ever slipped into her mind?

and if, just for a moment, she had wished it was him instead of you?

you try to push the thought away, try to hold onto the certainties gracie gives you—the way she reaches for your hand without thinking, the way her eyes light up when she talks about you, the i love yous that sound so real.

but doubt creeps in, spreading like a loose thread unraveling everything.

what if they’re not?

what if, deep down, you’re only here because he’s not?

the thought tightens in your chest. you swallow hard and keep walking, unfamiliar streets closing in around you.

but nothing feels as endless or inescapable as the maze inside your own mind.

…

the lights dim, and the crowd erupts into cheers. the air is electric, pulsing with anticipation, and gracie feels it thrumming through her veins. she grips the microphone tightly, fingers trembling just slightly, but she forces herself to take a deep breath. this is her moment—her show. no matter what happened this morning, she needs to push through.

but she knows better than to think she can just shut it out.

as she steps onto the stage, her eyes scan the audience, moving quickly over the sea of faces. the adrenaline in her chest spikes as she catches sight of you.

standing near the back, hands buried in your pockets, shoulders drawn tight, looking at her like you’re not sure whether you want to be here or not.

the moment stretches between you, thick with words left unsaid.

gracie knows that for months she has been exposing you to these painful memories embedded in her own songs. but she also knows that they are past pains, without weight or meaning, and she expected you to know that too. if something was wrong, you would tell her. wouldn't you? but as she stands there, watching you from the stage, doubt grips her chest.

did i cross the line?

abrams swallows hard, forcing herself to keep moving, to wave at the fans screaming her name, to smile like she’s okay. but her mind is already somewhere else, stuck in the heaviness of this morning, the way you looked at her, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you as you left.

she drags in another breath, stepping up to the mic as the opening chords of the first song hum through the speakers. the setlist is the same as always, but tonight, everything feels different. she wonders if you can feel it too, if the weight pressing down on her is pressing down on you as well.

and then the next song starts.

the one that ruined everything last night.

the crowd sings along, voices blending with hers. her gaze, however, is locked on yours. she sings the line without hesitation, without breaking, watching the way your jaw clenches, your eyes darkening just slightly. she wonders if you can tell that she’s looking at you. if you can hear what she’s trying to say through the words that once meant something else.

i didn’t mean to hurt you.

it’s just a song. it’s just a song.

but that doesn’t make it any less real, does it?

the song ends, the moment passes, and yet, the weight lingers. the rest of the show blurs together—flashes of movement, chords, applause—but that moment stays lodged in her ribs, burning like something she doesn’t know how to name.

by the time the final song fades, the crowd’s cheers ring in her ears, and gracie barely remembers getting through it. sweat clings to her skin as she steps backstage, her heart still pounding too fast, and she doesn’t know if it’s from the performance or the way you looked at her.

she doesn’t have time to figure it out before she hears movement behind her.

turning slowly, she finds you standing there, just a few feet away.

you’re still wearing that same guarded expression, the one that makes something in her ache, but there’s something else beneath it now. something hesitant. something like regret.

she wants to say something, anything—but what is there to say?

where were you?

are you okay?

i’m sorry?

but before she can choose the perfect false words, you take the first step. "we should talk… at home."

"yeah, definitely," she says almost automatically.

you hold each other’s gaze for a moment, both fidgeting with your hands—shared habits.

the ride home is silent. the radio plays some random melody, but neither of you really listens. gracie keeps her hands on her thighs, fingers restless, resisting the urge to reach out. she doesn’t know if it would be welcomed. if she still can.

on the other side, you stare out the window, your hand so close to hers. close enough that if one of you just…

but no one moves.

back home, the silence is just as heavy. gracie drops her bag on the counter but doesn’t step away, fingers gripping the marble as if she needs something solid to hold onto.

this time, there are no distractions. just the two of you and the space between you.

"can we talk now?" gracie asks, her voice low.

"yeah," you answer hesitant. but it takes a moment before you can actually speak.

gracie’s breath seems caught in her chest as she waits, and you hate it—hate how uncertainty spreads across her features, like she’s bracing for something bad. but the truth is, you don’t even know how to put what you’re feeling into words.

you run your tongue over your dry lips before finally saying:

"that song last night, two people… it really fucked me up."

gracie blinks a few times, surprised by the raw honesty in your voice. she swallows hard before responding.

"i didn’t…" she pauses, the words dying before they fully form. "i didn’t mean for it to hurt you."

"i know." you squeeze your fingers, letting out a heavy sigh. "but it did."

gracie nods slowly, eyes fixed on you, unsure of where to step. "you never said anything before. about the song, about…" she hesitates. "him."

"because i thought i was fine," you admit, your voice coming out rougher than you intended. "i thought i had let it go. but hearing it—hearing you sing it—just brought everything back, and i hated it. i hated that it still gets to me."

gracie stays silent for a moment, her gaze locked on you like she’s searching for the right thing to say. then, in a hesitant, almost resigned tone, she asks:

"do you want me to stop singing it?"

do you want that?

"because if you do, i will."

"of course not," you say, shaking your head. "that’s not the point, gracie."

"then what is the point?"

"i don’t fucking know!" tears start streaming down your face, and suddenly, you’ve never felt more exposed than now. "i’m sorry…" you bring your hands up to your face, as if trying to hide somehow.

gracie doesn’t think. she just moves.

before she can second-guess herself, she closes the space between you, wrapping her arms around your trembling frame. you tense at first, your body stiff against hers, but then, slowly, you sink into it.

your hands clutch the fabric of her jacket, desperate for something to hold onto, something solid in the middle of everything unraveling inside you.

gracie presses her face into your hair, eyes squeezing shut. "hey," she whispers, voice barely steady. "it’s okay. you don’t have to be sorry."

but you shake your head against her shoulder, fingers tightening. "i hate this," you choke out. "i hate feeling like this. like i’m stuck. like i—" your breath catches, breaking apart in your throat.

gracie pulls back just enough to look at you, cradling your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing the tears from your cheeks. her gaze is searching, pained, but steady. "then don’t do it alone." she almost whispers. "let me be here. let us figure this out together."

"look at me," she continues, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers.

your breath hitches. "gracie—"

"i love you."

you swallow hard, eyes flickering between hers. "i know that you love me."

"no." her grip tightens, not to hold you in place, but to make you feel her, to feel the weight of what she’s saying. she looks at you like she’s searching for something deeper, something that words alone can’t reach. "i don’t want you to just know. i need you to feel it. i need you to feel it in every vein in your body, how much i want you, how much i love you, y/n."

your chest tightens, throat burning with unshed tears.

"you’re my baby, my girl, my fucking adorable, sweet princess," she breathes, her forehead resting against yours. "i’d give you the whole damn universe if you asked me. and i’m sorry for not noticing how hard this has been for you."

"you don’t have to do anything," you shake your head. "it’s not your responsibility. it’s not your fault."

gracie lets out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with her thumb. "i’m your girlfriend, of course it’s my responsibility. but it’s not just that—i want to. i want to be here. i want to hold this with you."

you let out a shaky breath, your forehead still pressed against hers. the warmth of her hands, the closeness of her body, it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

gracie watches you, waiting, giving you space even as she holds you close. there’s no rush, no expectation. just her, just this moment, just the steady rhythm of her breathing mixing with yours.

"i don’t know how to stop feeling like this," you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

"you don’t have to figure it out all at once. we’ll take it one step at a time. no pressure, no rush. just us."

you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself lean into her, feeling the warmth of her presence wrap around you like something safe, something solid.

then, after a beat, you whisper, "say it again."

gracie pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. "i love you."

you shake your head. "no. the whole thing."

her hands tighten around your face, eyes dark and unwavering as she speaks again, voice like a vow:

"i don’t want you to just know how much i love you. i need you to feel it. in every breath, every touch, every part of you. you’re my baby, my girl, my sweet, adorable princess. and i’d give you the universe if you asked me."

tears slip silently down your cheeks, but this time, they don’t feel heavy. it’s love, because of love.

gracie catches one with her thumb, her smile turning just a little teasing, a little mischievous. "and i’m never singing two people again unless you say it’s okay."

you let out a breathy, tearful laugh, shoving her shoulder lightly. "i never said that."

she grins, eyes crinkling, before she leans in and presses the softest, most deliberate kiss to your lips. like a promise. like a beginning.

gracie doesn’t pull away right away. she lingers her lips barely brushing yours, memorizing the shape of you, like she’s making sure you feel every ounce of her love in that kiss. when she finally does part from you, it’s only far enough to rest her forehead against yours again, her breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

"you okay?"

you nod, a little shy now, a little overwhelmed but in a way that doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

she smiles, thumbs still tracing light patterns on your cheeks before one hand slips down, lacing her fingers with yours. "come here," she says, giving your hand the gentlest tug.

abrams leads you to the couch, pulling you down with her, and before you can even think, she’s tucking you against her side, wrapping you up in warmth. it’s so easy, so effortless—the way your body finds its place against hers, the way her arm fits snugly around your waist, like you were always meant to be here.

"do you wanna talk more?" she asks after a moment, her voice soft. "or do you just wanna stay like this for a while?"

you don’t answer right away. instead, you shift, pressing your face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in. she smells like vanilla and something distinctly her, something comforting.

"this," you murmur against her skin. "just this."

gracie hums, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "okay, baby. just this."

and so you stay there, tangled together in the quiet, her fingers trailing lazy patterns along your back, your hands resting against her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

it’s not perfect. there’s still a lot to talk about, a lot to work through. but for now, in this moment, in her arms, you feel safe.

and that’s enough.

guys…

thanks for reading <3

back to nav

#˚🐇⋆hayfics!!#gracie abrams x reader #gracie x reader #angst

41 notes · View notes

bunnwich · 2 days ago

Note

I just found out a Prince of Egypt Musical exists, and one of the addition songs— 'footprints on the sand'— really gives me Leona vibes

(Spotify link to the song)

https://open.spotify.com/track/40PqpFQdrylghRZgY36W8G?si=wATkespmQyar931PNnNc8A&context=spotify%3Aalbum%3A7MOGTYjo3ifwHDBf0EBE71

(Genius lyrics)

https://genius.com/Original-west-end-cast-of-the-prince-of-egypt-footprints-on-the-sand-lyrics

So since you're— at least in my view— one of the Leona experts, I was wondering what your thoughts would be on it!

Not that it fits perfectly; no song ever really fits 100%, after all. But I think it has strong Leona vibes

Leona VS The Weight of Insignificance

(Ahhh sorry I am just getting around to this.;-; BTW DFGHJK I’m flattered that you consider me a Leona expert??)

So this is pretty cool because I didn't realize there was a Prince of Egypt Musical? I’m a big fan of the animated movie and of musicals so I’ll have to listen to the rest someday!

So, I think in general the theme of “Footprints in The Sand” is about the idea of “trying to leave a mark” in life, but feeling like it won't matter in the long run and also exploring the insignificance that we all feel as people.

That being said, I can see why this song made you think of Leona! It brought up some feelings about what being second-born in a royal lineage means and how that can make someone feel insignificant just in concept. The spare heir if you will.

It's interesting because it also made me think about how Leona has such complicated feelings about his title too?

Like on the one hand, he feels like he's “forever in the shadow of Falena” but at the same time, I DO think a small part of him secretly enjoys the mobility of not having the reasonability of king and therefore the first few lines of the song before it fades into him sounding more melancholic made me think of this.

(AND ALSO since we’ve seen how he would handle being king in his Chapter 7 Dream OOF.) My thoughts on that: X

The second son– My father's wrong (THIS LINE TOO) It's got to be the easiest role on Earth Just play around Just play along Enjoy the bounty of my birth So what's today's amusement For this second son? Which one shall I choose from so many kinds of fun?

I think it leads back to the age-old conclusion about Leona’s character (that his dream really hammered home), is that being king is NOT what he truly wants and it more comes to feeling worthy as a person as if he has to “justify” his own existence of feeling useless. It’s more about the kind of attention he craves. To be useful, respected, adored.

The song mentions the fear of not leaving behind a legacy and feeling the weight of your own insignificance as a person. I can see how both the characters of Moses and Leona both struggle with “finding their purpose” and not being able to see their own worth like others who care about them do.

It made me think of the song (also in Prince of Egypt) “Through Heaven's Eyes” which I feel actually continues this theme. The idea that even if you can’t see your OWN value that everyone—has their own innate value as people—and that in itself is meaningful.

A single thread in a tapestry Though its color brightly shines Can never see its purpose In the pattern of the grand design And the stone that sits on the very top Of the mountains mighty face Does it think it's more important Than the stones that form the base?

For Leona—the people he acts as a mentor to like—Ruggie, Epel and Savanaclaw as a whole—have a pretty high opinion of him despite his flaws. And the fact that he can’t always see that and appreciate that value that he unconsciously and consciously brings to them reflects this. He has and will leave an impact even if it's not as “important” as a king. And he could do even more good if he actually tried to do so.

I think it’s a lesson we all struggle with TBH, the whole: seeing our inherent value as people and it’s def why I think Leona is a more relatable character than he first appears in twst. :3

Thank you for sharing with me though! I love finding stuff like this! I hope you have a wonderful day/night!💚

#leona kingscholar #twst #twst leona #lion talk🦁#twisted wonderland #ask

31 notes · View notes

multiheadcanons · 3 days ago

Text

THE MERCS AS SONG LYRICS BUT I WROTE THE SONGS THE LYRICS COME FROM AND THERES NO CONTEXT AT ALL BECAUSE THESE SONGS AREN’T ANYWHERE FOR YOU TO HEAR THE CONTEXT (MAYBE ONE DAY)

scout: “i’m teeny but you still look up to me so stay squeaky” i don’t know why when i go through my files that this line always stands out to me when i read it. something about it is cheeky; it’s a smart-ass, corny ass comeback to something i personally have heard most of my life. and i think scout would say “stay squeaky” as a warning too. keep your shit clean, because scout will know if it’s not. he’ll go out of his way to find out what dirt there is on you.

soldier: “and i won’t ask you to wait for me/i’ll be free all year, i guarantee” soldier is a man who moves to the militaristic beat of his own drum. he doesn’t really think he’s too far ahead, or behind, his peers. and he doesn’t need his hand held if he finds out he is either. he is content with himself. he is content even when he’s dead. and he’s always available. so nobody should be worried about him either. he can handle himself. damn. i miss you rick. you were a good man.

pyro: “you may not be the sun but baby, you are my star!” pyro is not my personal absolute favorite character (i think we all know who that is) but that doesn’t stop pyro from being one of my FAVORITE characters to write about! pyro is fascinating because i can essentially say pyro is whatever i want them to be, and as long as i’m hitting a few key points of what we do know about pyro i am well within the confines of canon. pyro is my star. they’ve grown to mean so much to me. but i’ve also never really seen a characterization of pyro that i have really liked and enjoyed; and i’m still not sure if i even like my characterization of pyro! but dammit, this pyro is my pyro. there are many others like them, but this one is mine. pyro is like an s-tier self insert.

demo: “when i get involved, it’s getting worse than intended” this whole verse that this line very specifically is in is soooo funny to me, personally. it’s explosive, it’s vicious, it’s humorous! it’s a lightning strike of so many sentences coming at you. and it’s demo the man. very particularly this line, because to me, if demo is in on something it’s about to go so far out of left field nobody will be able to stop it. he’s learned he is a man who can hear gossip, and shouldn’t get himself involved in it. doesn’t stop him from stepping in sometimes! sometimes you just need a little oomph!

heavy: “i find the bright to be a fickle kind” anyone here a legends of avantris fan? i initially wrote this while watching icebound in my car in the middle of a winter’s night, freezing my ass off because i didn’t want to turn my car on and disturb my neighbors. and i looked up, and the sky was crystal clear; and the moon was directly above me. so i wrote a love song to the winter moon, while listening to a bunch of dnd characters suffer in an icy wasteland. there’s something about big quiet men from already bitterly cold regions that i do think they have an emotional connection to the moon. to its fickle nature in appearance. and i think heavy thinks a lot about what the people who surround him say about him. something about the men he’s grown close with. they bode ill omens. he can’t shake the feeling.

engineer: “communion wine, do you think it’ll save you?” that man knows what he’s doing at all times. he has sacrificed many morals to get where he is now. and he knows there is no coming back. as nice as he may be. he’s an eternal ticking time bomb. it just depends on what’s going to blow up in his face first and take him from this realm of existence. and he knows he’s not seeing the pearly gates. he enjoys what he does far too much.

medic: “the keys lie somewhere between marrow and bone” i didn’t realize i actually wrote this song about the doctor until i went back through and read it. i actually innately understand the doctor because i am him frfr. i was genuinely going batshit insane when i wrote that, overcome and consumed by an obsession i could not and still can not let go of, and watching a lot of saw. and the only way i could let it go is when i get what i need. but it’s lodged so deep, i will have to break myself to get to it. the doctor is willing to break others to get it.

sniper: “i know what i am in.” snipes isn’t dumb. snipes is keenly aware of every decision he’s made that has gotten him to this point. the issue he finds with it is he doesn’t know where else he would go from here. he wouldn’t know what other decisions to make in the past to change what he became today. all he’s done is remain as truthful to himself as he could be; and he’s really banking on that being enough to get him by.

spy: “it sorts the foes from confidants.” spy is discerning, a purposeful and professional metaphorical button pusher. and it’s his dickish nature that is one of his best litmus tests to discern who he can trust and who he can’t. and if you’re not with spy, you are indeed against him. and he treats you accordingly.

#team fortress 2 #team fortress two #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #tf2 demo #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2

23 notes · View notes

flowerchild28 · 1 day ago

Text

6th Member part 2

Louis Tomlinson imagine

Warnings: fluff, crush

0.8k

part 1

We arrive at the venue early in the morning, and the contrast between us is almost comical. Zayn is grumpy, clearly not a morning person, while Harry practically bounces with energy, grinning from ear to ear. I, on the other hand, am still half-asleep after dozing off on Niall’s shoulder during the ride over.

Interviews have always been a whirlwind, but something about watching Louis in them always makes me smile. He’s effortlessly charming, tossing jokes left and right, sometimes veering into absolute nonsense just to get a reaction out of the studioer. And, of course, it works every time.

We’re seated in a line, the six of us, ready for another promotional interview. The fans are always excited for these moments, but they have no idea that we actually enjoy them just as much.

The interviewer starts with Niall. “What’s one of your favorite memories from the tour so far?”

“Oh, definitely the time we tried to teach Y/N how to skateboard and she nearly took Liam out,” Niall says, grinning. “I swear, I thought we were gonna have to cancel a show.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “Okay, first of all, that skateboard was possessed. Second, I almost took myself out, too.”

The room laughs, and the interviewer moves on. “Liam, if you could switch talents with any of your bandmates for a day, who would it be?”

Liam thinks for a moment. “Probably Zayn’s drawing skills. I’ve seen his sketches, and they’re unreal.”

“Zayn, what about you?”

“Definitely Y/N’s ability to write lyrics so fast,” Zayn says with a small smirk. “She can come up with a melody in, like, five minutes. It’s a little annoying, actually.”

I grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The interviewer turns to Louis. “Alright, Louis, you always have the best banter. But what’s something people might not realize about you?”

He leans back in his seat, pretending to think deeply. “Well, obviously, I’m the most responsible member of the band.”

That earns a collective groan from all of us.

“Louis, mate, you literally left your passport in a hotel room last week,” Harry points out.

“Details, details,” Louis says with a wave of his hand, his signature mischievous grin appearing.

I laugh at his antics, watching how effortlessly he controls the mood of the room. His quick wit, his energy—it’s magnetic. There’s something about the way he can make everyone feel at ease that makes me admire him more than I probably should.

The drive to the studio had been nothing short of chaotic. As soon as we stepped outside, Liam had challenged me to a race to the car, and, of course, he won, claiming the passenger seat with a victorious grin. That left Harry, Niall, and Zayn squeezed into the middle row, while Louis lounged comfortably in the back.

Since I lost, I had to squeeze into the backseat next to Louis, which was way too small for the two of us. Our legs kept bumping together, and I was too tired to even complain, eventually resting my head on Niall’s shoulder and dozing off while the boys chatted. Louis had been uncharacteristically quiet during the ride, though I could feel his occasional glances in my direction.

The interviewer finishes up, and soon enough, we’re back in the studio for a quick recording session. Today, we’re working on “Little Black Dress” for the Midnight Memories album.

I slip on my headphones and lean back against the couch, watching as Louis steps up to the mic first. His voice is raspy, effortlessly smooth as he sings the opening lines.

Little black dress just walked into the room…

I tilt my head, listening closely. There’s something about the way he sings it that makes me curious.

Once he’s done, he steps out of the booth, and I give him a knowing look. “Alright, spill. Who’s the song about?”

Louis smirks, grabbing a water bottle before flopping down next to me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I narrow my eyes. “Yes, actually.”

He just shrugs, looking annoyingly smug. “It’s a mystery.”

“Oh, come on, Tommo. You don’t just write about a girl in a little black dress for no reason.”

His blue eyes flicker to mine, and for a second, I swear there’s something in his expression—something teasing but also a little nervous. “Maybe it’s just about a feeling,” he finally says, his voice quieter. “About a moment that sticks with you.”

I study him, trying to figure out if he’s being genuine or just messing with me. But before I can say anything else, Harry jumps in. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s actually get some recording done, yeah?”

I roll my eyes, but my heart is still racing a little.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just Louis being Louis.

Or maybe, just maybe, there’s something more to it.

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson imagine #louis tomlinson fluff #louis tomlinson imagines #one direction #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson x you #self ship imagine #imagine #louis tommo #x reader #niall horan #harry styles #liam payne

22 notes · View notes

sturniololuvz · 14 hours ago

Note

chris is in love with a girl and he makes a song for her cause he is launching his music career (the song can be something from cigarettes after sex or arctic monkeys) and he shows it to yn and his brothers and it’s basically their reactions to it😭💗

awww! yessss

“For Her”

Chris sturniolo x brothers / sister

Warnings :none

Chris had been acting weird for weeks. Matt, Nick, and Y/N had all noticed. He was quieter, more thoughtful, constantly humming to himself, and disappearing into his room with his guitar. At first, they thought it was just one of his random phases—until the night he called them all together.

“Alright, listen,” Chris said, standing in front of his siblings in the living room, his laptop open. His fingers drummed anxiously on the table. “I’ve been working on something, and I want you guys to hear it first.”

Matt and Nick exchanged glances. Y/N leaned forward on the couch, intrigued.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nick said, smirking. “Are we about to witness Chris Sturniolo, the musician?”

Chris rolled his eyes but grinned. “Something like that.” He hesitated for a second before pressing play.

Soft, dreamy guitar chords filled the room, the kind that instantly made you feel something deep in your chest. The song was slow, almost hypnotic, like something from Cigarettes After Sex—smooth, melancholic, and deeply intimate. Then Chris’s voice came in, low and earnest.

“I see you in the quiet nights, city lights in your eyes…”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this.

“You’re the song that keeps playing, even when I close my eyes…”

Matt blinked, his expression shifting from amused to impressed.

“If I wrote down every moment, it still wouldn’t be enough…”

The song carried on, lyrics painting a picture of late-night drives, stolen glances, and unspoken feelings. It was raw, personal, and undeniably real.

When it ended, there was a moment of silence. Chris looked up, nervous. “So?”

Nick was the first to break. “Dude, what the—when did you get all poetic and shit?”

Matt nodded. “That was actually insane. Like, not even joking, that sounded professional.”

Y/N was still staring at the laptop, stunned. Then, she smirked. “Okay, be real. Who is she?”

Chris groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I knew you were gonna ask that.”

“So there is a girl,” Matt said, grinning.

Chris hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. And I… I don’t know. I just wanted to make something that said what I can’t.”

Y/N softened. “Chris, that was beautiful. If she hears this and doesn’t completely fall for you, she’s an idiot.”

Chris exhaled, relieved. “You really think so?”

Nick clapped him on the shoulder. “Bro, this is your thing. You gotta keep going with this.”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, for real. This is next level.”

Chris grinned, a little embarrassed but undeniably happy. “Guess this is the start of something, huh?”

Y/N smiled. “Yeah. And I can’t wait to see where it takes you.”

And for the first time in a long time, Chris felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sister sturniolo #se

30 notes · View notes

panthercakes-7 · 2 days ago

Text

Ruthlessness but it’s a teachers perspective (credits to: @coathanger-for-pasta for giving me the idea to make full lyrics:

(Listen to ruthlessness while reading for full effect.)

Strict teacher, Strict teacher, Strict teacher, Strict teacher

Strict teacher, Strict teacher, Strict teacher, Strict teacher…

In all my years of teaching

I haven’t had a class that has been this bad

I try to not raise my voice.

But damn, you crossed the line

I've been so gracious

And yet, you hurt the subs heart.

That's right, the substitute you made mad, made notes.

No…

I'm left without a choice and without a doubt.

Guess the pack of wolves is swimming with the shark now.

I've gotta make you charts, I need to see you suffer.

But before you go, I need to make you see now

Your class has seating charts now.

(Your class has seating charts now.)

Your class has seating charts now.

You are the worst kind of class 'cause you're not even great

A class who reeks of false righteousness, that's what I hate

'Cause you listen to me, but won't work and don't get the job done

I mean, you totally could have avoided all this had you just done your work

But no

You are far too noisy, this all has a price

It's the final crack, we're bound to break the ice now

You ignore the sub, then you slack on off.

Unlike you, I actually care about being here.

Your class has seating charts now.

(Your class has seating charts now.)

Your class has seating charts now.

…

And now it is finally time to say goodbye, today you move.

Unless, of course, you apologize

For the subs pain and all their cries

Teacher, we meant no harm

We only didn’t listen cuz’ we got distracted!

We took no pleasure in the subs pain

We only wanted to leave..

The line between naïveté and hopefulness is almost invisible

So open your books, the world is dark and

Your class has seating charts now.

Page 22.

Your class has seating charts now.

What have you done?

…

Sitting you next to people you don’t like.

…

I am your darkest moment

The teacher that always draws near

Any last comments?

All I gotta do is WAIT 10 SECONDS FOR THE BELL

WHAT?!??

(Teacher forgot the bell was about to ring.)

#ruthlessness #epic poseidon #poseidon #epic the musical odysseus #epic the ocean saga #epic the cyclops saga #epic the musical #epic athena #epic odysseus #epic the circe saga #epic the ithaca saga #epic the thunder saga #lyrics #memes #gay men

20 notes · View notes

chemical-ghoul · 3 days ago

Text

emily armstrong scientology thingo

That freak who wants Emily dead and thinks she’s married to Chester has me blocked so I can post whatever I want now thank the fucking lord 🙏

I've done tons of research on this topic and like… there is so much proof against Emily being in Scientology, people refuse to inform themselves outside of random articles or listen to people of the likes of Jamie Bennington, who is known for making up obvious vile lies about the band & who's own mother has a restraining order against him due to his crazy claims and stalkerish behaviour. Obviously we won't know anything until and unless Emily says something but I'm absolutely willing to bet she's either on her way out or has been out for a while.

If there’s anything wrong here please do feel free to correct me, I love learning about this topic.

For the things that still may qualify her being in the cult, other than her ~2013 & prior involvement from the gala (that brought awareness to this issue in the first place) the only CURRENT thing I can think of is probably her relationship with her mother--it doesn't necessarily mean she's in or out, but her mother is a higher up in the cult and therefore would probably want to provent her daughter leaving. Emily has discussed speaking to her mother as recently as September.

As much as I wish she wouldn’t, I understand why she would still want to connect with her mother even if she isn’t in the cult anymore. And she can absolutely do that, but if she wants to speak out about it it’d mean leaving her mother behind and becoming a suppressive person, which I doubt she would want to do. From what I can gather, she’s most likely left silently.

The only real proof of her ever being properly active in the cult at the time of me writing this, are from photos and other peoples retellings of her as a child (some of which explain just how uninterested she was IN actually being a scientologist), one completed task on her profile from 2007 & the latest being in 2013, when she went to a Scientology celebrity gala (probably the wrong name but i'm mind blanking) and there's been basically nothing since.

For the things against her being in the cult: For starters she has never promoted the cult. She's mentioned having a therapist in recent interviews and discusses mental health & anti religion SO much in her music. I don't think someone whose ideologies still line up with Scientology would have been as anti religion and pro mental health help as she is and has been. I believe a while after 2013, maybe roughly when 'Pleasure to Meet You' (Dead Sara’s 2nd full album) released?, is when her lyrics began getting more close to lyrics that a scientologist probably wouldn't write. Alongside this, since 2017, a few years after PTMY came out, fans have noticed changes in her attitude that make her seem a lot happier and less tired. I think this change is worth a mention, as the record that came out after 2017, Temporary Things Taking Up Space, is so lyrically against all of Scientology’s values it’s shocking a so called hardcore scientologist could even think to sing these songs.

Colin, Linkin Park’s drummer, has denied himself having any connections with the cult in a vague instagram comment, which isn't much but I do think if they want to stay quiet small instagram comments poking fun at people accusing them is a fine way to go about confirming anything. Mike spoke out about Scientology a year after he met her--which in most cases and discussions i've seen, would have a scientologist cut ties entirely with a person. She has associated with many people who have left the cult and spoken out about them, Mike being the most obvious example but Beck is a good one too. He left the cult many years ago and only spoke out about it years later due to fear of retaliation from the church. She’s also friends with Brian Bowen Smith who to my knowledge photographed Leah Remini for her book about Scientology.

Her being a lesbian also helps my case, but not by much because if anything it really depends on if she came out before she was in Dead Sara or not. They tend to allow famous people to be lgbtq without issue by the looks of things, but we aren't sure when she came out. Speaking of DS, they have performed at lots of events raising money and awareness for mental health including the charity Talinda Bennington (Chester's wife) set up after Chester passed away. Not really relevant but worth a mention, they’re also good friends with the band Badflower, who have songs that are very openly about mental health and abuse. I don’t see a scientologist being friends with someone like Josh Katz who can write and sing those words.

The people accusing her of being a hardcore scientologist (Cedric and his wife Chrissie? could be wrong about her name—also those shitty scientology youtubers who keep making videos on this subject that should really be dropped by now LMAO) are still yet to really show any proof she's still in other than claims which I don't think should be taken as 100% fact—none of this paragraph stuff should either but I think someone who’s been a LP fan for years and has always been very openly anti scientology may have a good outlook on the situation so this is my two cents.

#emily armstrong #scientology #emily armstrong is not in scientology #if she is somehow a scientologist she’s broke so many of their shitty rules it’s kind of funny LMAO #linkin park #dead sara #from zero #linkin park 2024 #linkin park comeback

21 notes · View notes