#bleachers fic

[bootyshortsjacob]

Can you show what that collage thing is? And if they're in high school do they stay the same with the actors and we imagine them younger or did you find young people to be them?? I'm sorry if im rambling lol.

So, I tried to imagine them young and I was like eh, we know what they look like older. So I was like, just find some people that has the same face structure or what I think embodies them as teenagers. And for like all the main couples they have their own little collage, like Homelight, Hughie/Victoria, Butcher/Becca, ATrain/Popclaw, Maeve/Elena, MM/Monique.

But it is a Starlander, Homelight story lol. Idk if u wanted me to include the faceclaim ideas. Ig if you ask again, I'll do it.

[littlestarbigsky]

thinking abt soda being scared to death in the student section the first time darry goes down on the field at a football game

[literary-chameleon]

Song: Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call by Bleachers

For more Black brothers angst you can read my fic here.

[vinelark]

Can we get a wip Wednesday in honor of don't take the money being my top listened to song of the year? (Absolutely no pressure!! Have a lovely lovely Wednesday!!)

a little wipwed! the section i’m working on now is one i’m trying not to spoil, but here’s a snippet from an earlier scene 🫡

—

“And the guy,” Kon says. “The one who did this. You got him, too?”

“Oh, yes,” Nightwing says. And that tone is one Kon recognizes: satisfied with a vicious edge, just a flash of steel underneath each word. The last time Kon heard that was in the basement. Tim saying, Wanna check my work? with blood on his teeth. “We got him.”

[cr3stawrites]

merry christmas, please don’t call—firecracker and billy core i fear.

lemme just…

“Oh golden boy, don’t act like you were kind. You were mine, but you were awful every time.”

we need to talk about it THIS line specifically. billy was firecracker’s true love, as much as she wanted to not believe it during their arguments. billy was hers in a way but not in a faithful way at all.

he was awful to her every time she said something about his groupie activities, he was never kind to her during their arguments, yet he still sees himself as the golden boy of the band — when in reality he’s nowhere near that.

“But you should know, that I died slow.”

firecracker literally died EACH TIME that billy was being billy. that each time she caught him, a part of her died, her dignity, her heart. it died, each and every time.

not to mention that each argument also took a piece out of her — and by the time chicago comes around, firecracker is just drained. she cannot go on like this. but she still stays.

and it’s because she loves billy, and she genuinely thinks he can get better. so as the years go on, part of her dies—because she still stays.

“Just one ticket out of your heavy gaze. I want one ticket out of your carousel.”

self explanatory. firecracker wants out, she wants out of being under billy’s heavy gaze of being ‘his girl’ but also being cheated on constantly.

she wants desperately off the carousel that she agreed to be on all those years ago. the carousel of being billy dunne’s girl—but not really being billy dunne’s girl.

“Merry Christmas, please don’t call.”

and by chicago, and when firecracker finally cracks, she doesn’t want billy to call her at first once she ends things with him. she doesn’t want him to call her, contact her, nothing. not until he gets his shit straight.

yet, billy does call, on christmas no less. and when firecracker finds out it is him and is about to hang up, he tells her merry christmas— and firecracker can hear the regret in his voice, but she’s not ready yet, it had only been two months. so, as she hears him say so, she replies back with;

“merry christmas billy, please don’t call.”

*bows* that was my first song analysis, i hope you guys liked it🥰

[glorf1ndel]

congratulations! please, glorfindel and/or ecthelion? :3c

Thank you! Here, I wrote a sappy little Glorfindel/Ecthelion marriage fic for you. <3

Green and Yellow

On ordinary days, Ecthelion only ever wore silver, blue, or black. One would be hard-pressed to find him in any other color. His friends joked that he only wore the colors of the moon and night sky. But today was no ordinary day. It was Ecthelion's wedding day, and he was clothed in... Green and yellow.

"Can't I just wear white?" He had asked Glorfindel, his future husband. White was a popular color at weddings, after all. Yet Gondolin had a custom that when Elves of different houses married, they wore each others' house colors to their wedding. Glorfindel found this delightful, but he looked good in any color. By contrast, yellow and green washed out Ecthelion's skin and made him look like a wilting daisy. Of course, Glorfindel had begged, pleaded, and promised to wear silver and blue himself, so Ecthelion had agreed to honor Glorfindel's house colors.

And now the time had come for them to walk down the aisle together. That was another tradition among the Gondolindrim, one that Ecthelion appreciated. Instead of one spouse waiting for another at the end of the aisle, they would stride toward the officiant together. Ecthelion and Glorfindel had planned the ceremony such that they would climb a hill together, to find the wedding party and their officiant, King Turgon, waiting for them at the top. So Ecthelion met Glorfindel alone at the bottom of the hill. Glorfindel looked stunning, wearing a silver suit, with his hair tied up in a blue bow.

What Ecthelion did not expect was Glorfindel's reaction to his outfit, a long yellow and green robe with an elegant train. Suddenly, Glorfindel clasped his hands to his mouth and began to sob.

“That bad?” Ecthelion quipped.

“What? No!” Glorfindel laughed a little, wiping his eyes. “You just look beautiful.”

Ecthelion could not help the smile that crept onto his face.

“I always knew you were a charmer.”

Glorfindel reached for his hand.

“Let’s get married?” He asked, as if there were a question in Ecthelion’s mind. But the Lord of the Fountain had no doubts. Even this green and yellow outfit was all right, if it meant he could hold Glorfindel’s hand for the rest of their lives.

“Let’s get married.”

[extraalligators]

Merry Christmas/Please Don't Call

You were mine

but you were awful every time

Remarkable how cute she still was.

How long would this last before it went the way of Dr. Girlfriend, Queen Etherea?

The very lovely persona curled up in the limousine beside him was Dr. Mrs. The Monarch, consummate professional, love bite peeking above the collar of her uniform notwithstanding. 43 years old, smoker of imported cigarettes, master of the smart-ass remark. She was a fantastic actress, she had nearly everyone fooled but when he squinted it was still Sheila he saw hiding a yawn behind her hand.

"You know, Sheila—"

"Please don't call me that."

"Tetchy."

"It's just not very professional."

She rolled her eyes. She obviously wanted to say something nasty to him but she just pinched the bridge of her nose like she had a headache. 

"I apologize. Madame councilwoman."

"Don’t call me that either."

Her voice was starting to go. Coming down with something or just exhausted? Hard to say.

"Feeling all right?"

"Not really."

She stared off out the window a while, watching the snow dusted city pass them by. After a minute she dug in her bag and produced a cigarette and a lighter but before he could scold her, she put the cigarette back in the pack.

"Hamilton? Do you wanna stop and have a drink?"

That was how Phantom Limb found himself in a nondescript bar on the lower east side, listening to Christmas music from the bartender's tinny speaker and letting his traitorous ex-girlfriend buy him a drink of her choosing. Just this once.

Her taste was as awful as ever, something that tasted like cough syrup. He drank his and let her order him another. He wanted to see if she would reveal any more about what was going on inside her head.

She didn’t. Mostly, she talked about some movie she’d seen, so he just watched her legs. She crossed them, uncrossed them. The little scar on her knee from the time she scraped it on the headboard of the bed while they were...still perfect. The boots helped.

She pulled her skirt down like she knew what he was doing and he came back to the conversation just in time to look as if he had been present for the whole thing.

"So it turns out she wasn’t after the safe deposit box at all. She wanted to kill him so the ghost of the mafia don from the first movie could move into his body."

"Someone actually made two of those?"

"Three. Come on, you watched the first one with me."

"I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about."

"We watched it on our second date. You had it on the laser disc."

"I’m certain you're mistaken."

She had a funny look on her face and he couldn't tell if it was wounded pride or hurt. Did she just want the satisfaction of being right?

"I know you did, I watched it about 30 times."

"I would absolutely remember that."

"You wouldn't. You were in Greece on some guild thing. It was gonna be our first Christmas together but..." She shrugged.

"Pining away for me the whole time?"

She gave him a disgusted look.

"I had a broken arm. I slipped on that stupid Persian rug and almost cracked my head open."

"I don't remember any of this."

"I do. You gave me the ugliest tennis bracelet I've ever seen in my life, kissed me goodbye and told me 'try to be less clumsy next year'. I didn't see you until like Feburary."

"That was my mother's. And it was mid-January at worst. Look, I just don't remember the particulars-"

"Because you were in Greece." She finished her drink. "At least you got a good tan."

He paused, not sure how far he was willing to take this conversation.

"Don't act like you were kind, Sheila."

Her head dipped, her lips pursed. Her hair fell into her eyes and she didn't bother pushing it back. Lost in thought? For the briefest moment, he had no idea who he was looking at.

"Well, I would have never done that to you." She said quietly.

He swallowed and hoped she didn't notice the look on his face. He smiled even though the cheap alcohol and the conversation were making him feel a bit ill.

"You got me back with that tracking chip."

She shook her head as if she were an actress who stumbled on a line and smiled back, grateful for the out.

"It still works, you know."

When they stepped back outside, the sky was slate and it was so cold he could actually feel it in his insensible fingertips. Sheila swore under her breath and paused to dig in her purse for her cigarette. She lit it and handed it to him wordlessly. He took a drag and handed it back. Her hands were shaking.  

He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders, and she looked up but didn't say anything. No smart-ass remark for that.

She didn't take it off in the car either, not until they arrived at her...hovel? Halfway home for wayward henchmen? She swore the place looked less haunted lately, but he had seen her looking at wallpaper on her phone. All butterfly themed. Atrocious. She went to slip it off and he stopped her.

"Keep it. I'll never forgive myself if you catch your death."

"Are you sure? It’s like fifteen feet."

"Think nothing of it. Just be a dear and get it dry cleaned before you return it."

She rolled her eyes but he saw her hiding a smile as she shut the door behind her. He watched her saunter up the walkway. He liked to imagine she was walking slowly for him, even though it was more likely she was just tired. Still had the ass of a twenty-five year old. She pulled his jacket a little tighter around her shoulders as she fumbled with her house keys. The Monarch could chew on that for a few days.

[labyrinthhofmymind]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61572592

surprise! i wrote a mini wolfstar fic in honour of christmas (even tho i’m posting this in jan LOL)

it’s very angsty and heavily inspired by the song ‘merry christmas, please don’t call’ by the bleachers which i’ve been OBSESSED with.

feel free to check it out, hope you guys like it <3

[sweatersadkitty]

i am a grace chastity is on the aromantic spectrum but NOT on the asexual spectrum truther.

happy halloween, bitches

[bootyshortsjacob]

WAIT! HIGHSCHOOL? I need to know more!!! Pleaseeee Annieeee!!!

OKAY! So, at first it was like a breakfast club one shot, but then there was too much background being added for the short chapter. So, I added more chapters and like... now its at 200k words.

And I'm not even at the spot where the detention is supposed to start 😭

[winter-angst]

It will be a melancholic Christmas.

Thanks Bleachers

[gojooooo]

i love a hypothetical students au or similar situation and sukuna looks gorjus as hell or his arms are showing so someone tries to rizz him up by complimenting his tattoos but sukuna is busy staring at yuuji from a distance who’s like smiling and talking to nobara and megumi so he distractedly replies “yeah thanks” as he keeps looking at his crush. so yes in short i love the idea of people wanting sukuna’s attention/him potentially being able to have anyone (but wait don’t misinterpret, he absolutely isn’t a fuckboy in my eyes, quite the opposite actually) but his mental capacity is entirely reserved for yuuji. he only has eyes for yuuji. he only cares about what yuuji is doing. is something about yuuji? no? then he’s lost interest.

[ragnarokhound]

how goes your wip

The bad news is, werewolf wip is on hold because I have lost control of my life.

The good news is, I am almost done with the reason I lost control of my life. the worse news is that it's aob:

“Jason, what is this?”

Jason looks up at Tim from across the kitchen table in Wayne Manor, brows scrunched and mouth twisting around his own mouthful of omelet in a grumpy frown. He doesn’t bother swallowing first, and bits of egg fly out when he replies.

“The fuck’s it look like?”

Tim eyes him, kinda grossed out, but mostly confused. It’s too early for this. “It looks like you made me breakfast?”

Jason looks between Tim and the frankly beautiful ham-and-mushroom omelet steaming on the plate he’d put down in front of Tim about two minutes ago. Tim had been so absorbed in his coffee and waking up, that he hadn’t quite clocked it at first. That it was very likely meant to be for him.

“If you don’t want it—” Jason says, a weird note in his voice as he reaches out.

Tim hauls the plate in close, grabbing the fork and hunching over it protectively. “That’s not what I said.”

[94badbye]

i love friends to lovers. i love it. some people think it's boring and unrealistic, but friends to lovers can be so pretty, so tender, so scary but also so undeniably beautiful. i'm so fond of it

[khruschevshoe]

Captain Oluwande Jimenez

When I fall asleep I can see your face

What I lost in you I will not replace

And if you see me in the darkness

I hope you know I'm not alone

I carry you with every breath I take

I won't let up, I won't let up

Until the wind is gone

-Bleachers, Like A River Runs

The idea surges in Olu's chest: him as co-Captain would mean that he's in charge. No one would ever be able to tear Jim or Archie away from him again. No one could even try.

Olu wants that guarantee more than anything. He wants to be able to continue pirating with this crew, with this family, while guaranteeing as best he can the safety of all of these people he's come to love. And yes, he's not the most ambitious type, but if he can take a position that maybe tampers down some of Stede's more outlandish ideas and allows them all to keep the jobs and the lives they love?

There are only two people who could stop him.

Olu looks to Jim and Archie. “Would you two be okay with that?”

“You being a co-captain?” Archie lets out a delighted laugh. “Man, I can think of no one better! You’re the best leader I’ve ever met!”

And Jim, Jim who hates authority, Jim who is the first person to call out Stede and Blackbeard for being shitty captains, Jim looks to Olu as if he’s hung the sun.

“Jim?” Olu asks, voice tender, because he thinks he knows their answer but still needs to hear it anyway, because he refuses to accept the position if it means that Jim will ever look at him with fear in their eyes.

But Jim has no fear. No hesitations. “It would be an honor to sail under you, Oluwande Boodhari,” Jim says fervently, pledging themself to the cause more devotedly than they ever signed up for Nana’s revenge mission.

-aletterinthenameofsanity, let's take a chance, baby, we can't lose (it's the one thing you can choose)

Captain Oluwande my beloved! It was so exciting getting to see his relationship with Jim and Archie develop into something incredibly solid, fun, and absolutely devoted. Possibly my favorite OT3 of all time (tied with maybe Parker, Hardison, and Eliot from Leverage, if that). They would all cross the sea for each other (and have, multiple times)! This fic is the one that focuses on their matelotage ceremony and it is the sweetest thing in the world.

@polikate @possumsmushroom @angxlwiings @yuenity @bricksbloggyplace

[vinelark]

so i’m listening to bleachers as a relatively new fan, and i hear “but back the secrets” and something starts nagging in my brain until i go WOAH and run to the author notes of bbts to check and i was right!! so i guess this is to say, a) super cool music taste, b) did you choose the title bc the lyric goes fucking hard or does don’t take the money relate to the fic in any way?

hi! love that the title jumped out at you in the wild like that, and hell yeah for listening to bleachers in general. i rambled a bit about my thought process re: that lyric/song here; tl;dr is that i picked it a bit more on vibes than literal lyrics meaning--also i just love the way the line sounds. very pleasing.